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girl4music · 24 days

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In celebration of XENA DAY I’m going to leave the link to this podcast episode that the She Nerds Out hosts did with Steven L. Sears right here and transcribe some of it for you that I find the most fascinating and validating in regards to how the TV show and TV ship inform and influence each other in that the story arc/plot/narrative always wraps around the characters of Xena and Gabrielle instead of the other way around.

The way Steven (yes, a straight white middle aged man) talks about Xena and Gabrielle is remarkable to me. He has such respect and reverence and just absolute sincerity when he talks about them both as individual characters and as a relationship dynamic that is primarily and predominantly romantic in his eyes. He confirms exactly why I will always highly praise the creators/cast/crew for what they did with this TV show and this TV ship and the timelessly magical experience it has on me and I know always will have on me. I can't believe that I actually had a personal conversation with this man for over an hour because I feel like he is a kindred spirit of sorts to me. At least as far as my interest and passion for TV art/entertainment goes. The way I know and understand the characters on a much deeper level than the show itself could ever really represent them to and for me.

You’ve just got to love how Steven automatically and intentionally wrote Gabrielle as a comphet lesbian. And I resonate so strongly with his words about her story arc and her journey in terms of how it applies to Gabrielle’s love for and initial fear of loving Xena the way she thinks - at the time - she’s only supposed to love men. Of course she’s constantly “running home to mama” because that’s where she knows herself best even if she’s always felt too queer to be mama’s little girl. And there is that very quietly played theme with her where she’s constantly struggling with that internally which is so brilliantly communicated in both Steven’s writing and Renee’s nuanced portrayal of Gabrielle’s character. And that is exactly what a “comphet lesbian” is. It’s someone that habitually runs home even when they know they don’t belong there because it’s safer or more familiar for them than stepping into the dangerous unknown even when it feels so much more welcoming than home ever did.

‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ is a queer story from the get go. Episode 1 is very queer storytelling actually in the way that these 2 protagonist female characters meet each other and become family to one another. It’s “I feel like a stranger in my own home but I just met you and you seem to feel the same way as me - let’s just stop being strangers and be a home to each other.”

I would really recommend listening to the whole podcast episode because the whole thing is just amazingly in-depth and insightful but if you can��t do that please enjoy these transcriptions of what I think are the best parts of it that explain so much about where the creators/cast/crew’s minds were at VS where the network/studio/executive’s mind’s were at because it’s important to be aware that they were not queerbaiting or pandering or exploiting LGBTQ fans which many show’s creative teams and their network/streaming service platforms still do with their lead same-sex characters instead of take them seriously.

As I said - most of the creators/cast/crew agreed with the fans and even viewed the TV show as a love story between the 2 lead characters themselves. Especially the big names. Steven is a great example of that fact. And if they were just “fan-servicing”, then they were serving themselves just as much because they wanted canon Xena and Gabrielle just as much as the fans did. They may never have initially saw them that way but they clearly knew that it was the natural progression for them so they didn’t dispute it. They embraced it.

STEVEN: “One of the things we discussed at the beginning was a flaw that you find in a lot of TV shows that have 2 leads. Generally, 1 is the lead who has the name on the banner and the other one is the ‘sidekick’. And I remember saying - not as an ultimatum, I just casually mentioned it in the meeting - I said ‘I don’t believe in sidekicks. Sidekicks are the props that you kill off at the end of the first season so that people will tune in the next season. They’re kind of useless and they just exist.’ And everybody agreed with that and we did not want to get to the point where Gabrielle was just standing in the background going ‘Get him Xena! Get him Xena! Get him Xena!’ And I remember we angst during the baby tossing episode ‘cause that’s all she did. She participated by grabbing the baby but she literally was acting ‘Get him Xena! Get him Xena!’ And so we decided that Gabrielle had to have a solid progression that was not just a convenience for us. In other words we didn’t want to do this just because ‘well, we don’t want her to be a sidekick so we’re going to pretend like she’s important.’ We felt she had to be. And so obviously the relationship between the 2 characters folded in with that perfectly. So this was one of the episodes (‘The Greater Good’) where I said - I kind of posed the question in my mind - I thought ‘what if Gabrielle was the Xena of this episode?’ Which, obviously, is what came out of it.”

HOST: “Speaking of that episode though,… that’s one of the most iconic episodes of the show. Definitely of that first season if not of the show generally. So when you say that building up [Gabrielle’s] character and making her more important to the story and finding that through the relationship - was their relationship sort of just natural or was that something that you guys were like ‘yeah, no, this has to be a huge part of what the show is now.’”

STEVEN: “There’s no yes and no for any of that so… the thing is that every TV show - unless it’s adapted from a novel or unless you actually chart out 5 seasons right at the beginning - which a lot of TV series now are doing because of the way that we stream. They’re basically novels - at a certain point as you begin to develop it, it takes on its own life. With everybody’s contributions the characters become real and just as all of you are real, I could write stories that you could do, but you will live those stories differently. Even if you do them together, you’re going to live them individually. So when we started out the series we were looking for having a successful series. We wanted to have fun - everybody in this business wants to have fun - and we wanted to get another season. But, in the way that I write - and fortunately in this particular group we all had the same mindset - we don’t believe in doing action for the sake of action. We don’t believe in doing comedy for the sake of comedy. We don’t believe in doing anything that’s not rooted in character first. So when we started the series I had made a comment about their relationship. I actually said ‘we’re going to have a very large gay/lesbian following’ and some of the people in the office were like ‘why would you think that?’ and I said ‘well,… my first show was 3 guys on a boat.’ And back then you didn’t have the internet for fanfiction but there were news magazines that went out that fans would put together. Fanzines. And - of course - I subscribed to 1 4 Riptide and almost all the fanzines dealt with their relationships with how they regarded each other. On every level. Romantic levels and just on brotherly levels or anything like that… but their relationships were a lot closer. So what I realized with all the subsequent series that I was doing - every time there were 2 leads of the same gender, this type of fanfiction was out there. Now as a backstory, I come out of theatre. I’ve been doing theatre since I was 12 years old. So being around the LGBTQ community was just… Tuesday, you know? So, for me, as I kind of explained this, I said ‘any time a dispossessed group of our society finds validation in any of our media - they grab it. Because they’re not given it, they have to grab it.’ And I said ‘so, you know, it’s going to happen.’ And thank god nobody went ‘oh, we have to avoid that’ or ‘we have to stay away from that’. Okay? Nobody in the room … So what we just figured was like we’re just going to let these characters evolve the way they evolve. And anybody looking at these characters and the way they came together and the adventures they were going on - I mean in retrospect,… was it really a surprise that they would have this incredibly close bond as they went forward? I mean however you ship it, it doesn’t matter. That bond had to happen or Gabrielle would have been totally unnecessary. We would have gotten rid of her. She would have been an annoyance. As opposed to us embracing the annoying aspect at the beginning and then allowing the audience to watch this incredible growth that she never would have had without meeting Xena and the incredible growth that Xena had that she would never have had if she hadn’t met Gabrielle. I’ve always said ‘Sins Of The Past’ was a suicide episode. Xena was trying to kill herself. She had nothing left. When she buried her weapons she was saying ‘I’m leaving myself open to the next warlord to kill me’ and then she hears the noise in the distance and she goes over there and she sees this young girl standing up against warlords and there’s a part of her that says ‘I was like that. That was me. What happened?’”

STEVEN: “I will say though that as the show became more popular the studio backed off on a lot of things with us because we were doing well and they trusted us. I want to look at it that way anyway. The President of Universal Television during that time was a guy named Dan Philly and I knew Dan since I started. He was actually one of the studio executives from NBC for Riptide. So I knew him from back then. Really cool guy. Awesome guy. And he was like ‘look, you know if this is working, people are happy, you seem to be walking that line…’ - which I always snickered at - it’s ‘cause ‘yeah, cause we’re NOT walking that line’ - he said ‘just go for it.’ And he was also one of the old style studio executives where if they wanted something they would trust you. They would turn to you and they would say ‘can you have a little more titillation? ‘Cause we like that. That helps. Give us more titillation.’ But they wouldn’t tell us to do it. They wouldn’t say ‘this is how you do it.’ They wouldn’t say ‘redesign their costumes so that their boobs pop out.’ They would just leave it to us. And so we would say ‘oh, this scene where they’re in the tavern talking about these really intense things that are going on in their life - we’ll put it in a hot tub!’ And that actually is how the hot tub tradition began because we thought ‘well, that makes it titillating’ and yet… we used it for the story and… it actually is kind of a bonding thing… ‘so put it in there.’ They’re watching the dailies and you hear [Lucy] say ‘where’s the soap?’ and we go ‘do we leave that in?’ ‘Yeah, we’ll leave that one in.’”

HOST: “As far as from the fan side of it, I don’t remember when the term ‘subtext’ started to become a word that the fans threw around and it obviously has become it’s own thing: the subtext of the show. But it sounds to me like it was just very organic for you guys. But when did you start to hear of the fans - LGBTQ+ specifically - latching on to what we would call ‘the subtext of the show.’ Was there like any kind of feedback you were getting? Were you then more inclined to kind of give us a little more like ‘wink wink, nudge nudge’ moments like the hot tub? Were you receptive to what the fans were asking for?”

STEVEN: “Yes and no. With the internet obviously we had direct access to the fans and we always made it a rule that we were not going to follow where the fans wanted us to go. We hoped that they would follow with us. But at the same time we kind of adapted things. I remember - because of my geeky nature - I was the one who was online first. I was really into that. I was the one who found the first AOL chatroom that Laura, a little 14 year old girl had set up for Xena. So I was listening in. And for those of you who remember back then, I never hid who I was. I wasn’t a lurker. I would go in and I would say ‘this is who I am’ not because I wanted everybody to go ‘ooo’ but I would say ‘talk freely.’ I said ‘I will leave the room if 1 of 2 things happen: if 1. you start talking about episodes you want to see because I can’t ethically listen to that or 2. if I become the centre of conversation ‘cause that’s not the point.’ I said ‘if I do that, don’t take offence, that’s just my own little ethics.’ But I was able to listen in. And so I do remember that at the beginning of this I told Rob this was going on and he said something to the effect of ‘yeah, well, it’s good they’re talking about the show but, you know, we don’t really care what they’re saying there, we’ve got to keep focused.’ I’m like ‘okay.’ And like an episode would come back and he would come out and come into my office and he’d say ‘so umm,… what do the fans think?’ And again, I was kind of looking for this because of my background so I was a little more aware of what was happening. The early discussions among the fans of where this was going was extremely interesting to me and I tried my best not to get involved in it because I wanted everybody to interpret it the way that they wanted to. I’m always amazed by the Xena fandom. I’ve been on other shows that have fandom and certainly a lot of my friends have huge fanbases on their shows, and I’ve said this when I’ve been on podcasts for other shows: the Xena fandom is the most incredible fandom that I’ve ever been involved with for a number of reasons. And one of them is that at the beginning - keeping in mind this was obviously in the middle 90’s - there was still some contentiousness as if people were trying to protect the girls from being lesbian. It’s like ‘we have to protect them, don’t say that!’ ‘Oh, okay, good, you’re going to protect me from what? Being a straight white male. Oh, thank you very much.’ So it was a little bit of that going on and there was some fire that went back and forth. I remember a few of the transcripts that were just so amazing. I kind of kept track of them. And what I started to see though with the Xena fans - which I loved - is that the people who wanted to maintain their shipper stance became friends. They began talking about it with respect to each other as opposed to ‘no, you’re that camp, I’m this camp’ and then the major contention was ‘do we ship Xena with Ares?’ And I’m like ‘okay, so what you’ve done is you’ve defaulted to the idea that she’s already with Gabrielle and now you’re just talking about a jealousy thing.’ And I’m like ‘that’s totally cool. I love that!’”

So the characters evolved. Now had they evolved in a different direction, well, we’d be having a different conversation here. Going back to the studio, one of the things that did come up was the studio did say ‘can you somehow remind people that, you know, Xena still likes guys and Gabrielle still likes guys.’ But they never said that they can’t like each other. And I’m thinking to myself ‘okay, what you’ve described to me is either the ultimate bisexual or what you’ve described to me is’ - and I don’t have a word for this ‘cause, you know, straight white male, how would I know this? - ‘is many of my friends who are a lesbian but denied that identification and fought themselves, and then finally came out - liberated themselves.’ So I said ‘you’re kind of describing that.’ And I remember thinking to myself ‘and that’s going to be Gabrielle.’ That she’s going to fight a lot of this internally. And so, you know, when we got to the Perdicus episode - with the marriage … you know we all get together and we would talk about how we’re going to put it together and some of us would come up with little things that go into somebody else’s script and it’s always the original writer that really is the owner of the script, but we always contribute things. And I remember we got to that thing and I’m like ‘okay, I know where I’m leaning on this’ and I’m going to lean into the curve on this one because what’s happening with Gabrielle is that she’s gone this far with Xena and suddenly this reminder of what her hidden past was - what her past was when she - well… you could say ‘denied’ - there’s a time where - this is difficult for me because I’m not a gay woman so I can’t speak with authority from this. I can only say I’ve had friends that have gone through this - where their coming out process is so scary that sometimes they - what I call - ‘run home to mama.’ And mama is where they were - at least they could deal with it - it was familiar enough. So when Perdicus comes in,… she’s questioning a lot of things and she thinks ‘okay, and now I’m questioning where I am and why I’m here,… so I’m running home to mama because Perdicus represents my childhood, my past, my village.’ And that scene where Gabrielle and Xena have that discussion before Gabrielle goes off to marry Perdicus - again, I always remind myself I’m NOT that orientation, I’m NOT that gender, I’m NOT that - but that scene still sticks in my mind because it broke my heart because she’s looking right at the woman who is her destiny and she’s saying ‘I’m so scared of you because of what you’re going to reveal about me and so I’m going to run away to something I should never have been apart of.’ And I’ve seen people go through that so that scene still sticks in my mind. It’s literally in my mind. I see the entire image of that scene.”

HOST: “When you say that - obviously you’re not a gay woman but you know humans and you know people and at the end of the day those characters were very human and - I hate to say it, love is love - it’s very cliché, but it is, right? Of course, why wouldn’t you understand what those 2 character’s are feeling … Because you’re a human being who understands the concept of love. But I love what you said. It’s like, yeah, of course, Gabrielle knew what being married to Perdicus living in her old village would be like. Like you said - she could endure that. She’d been there. She understood it. If she stayed with Xena, it’s scary, it’s the unknown and it’s that great inner conflict in her. I hadn’t really thought about it but that scene is very heartbreaking and it’s got to be one of my favourites.”

STEVEN: “When she left the village that little girl was looking at adventure because she was bored. She had no idea what she was getting into on every level. Not just the action level, the adventure level, the danger level - but the emotional level. She had no idea. So then she got to a point where that all scared her. She was more scared of that than she was about the adventure and the danger. Warlords did not scare her the way that this scared her. And, you know, it was a huge turning point. Now whether you ship one way or the other way on this, it still works because she had to find her destiny. And I also make a little distinction in my mind that Gabrielle’s destiny was not to be with Xena. Gabrielle’s destiny was to be with herself and to love who she chose to love. It was to find her happiness and BOOM… it walks into her life. And that is the scariest thing that can happen to a person and it’s hard to admit it. So I’ve often described the relationship at the beginning as: because Xena was much more experienced Xena was much more focused on what she had won and lost in her life and she had a lot of repair work to do in her life. Gabrielle had a lot of growing to do. So when Xena and Gabrielle came together, I made this distinction: I said that Gabrielle loved Xena ‘cause ‘AWESOME! XENA! The legends, the things I’ve heard about you!’

So Gabrielle loved Xena… but Xena was IN LOVE with Gabrielle… from the moment they met.”

#xena warrior princess #celebration of #xena day #xena and gabrielle #xabrielle #xena #lucy lawless #gabrielle #renee o'connor #steven l. sears #podcast #she nerds out #transcription of the audio #wlw representation #queer representation

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gerrydelano · 6 months

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i need to catch up on your fics but i am chin hands about trans fem gerry. i remember you talking about it before but id love to hear any new or updated thoughts :0

some of it would be spoilers for the PBR epilogue so i'm going to keep that to myself until then, but! ultimately i just was thinking about the fact that he uses she/her pronouns and enters Girl Mode in his happiest moments, his most intimate and vulnerable moments with people he trusts to love him, and what that says about his actual state of being outside of those moments. it means he's not fully happy or comfortable, there's something holding him back, which i've gathered is a fairly common feeling.

he's still got an attachment to being A Son specifically it's just rooted in his being but look me in the eyes and tell me that ever made him feel safe in his own body or head or surroundings. y'know? there's spoiler territory there with that part of the discussion though so heehee.

(not that long i just don't want everything stretching the dash where i might not be able to edit it later)

i do think she's always going to identify himself as a fag though which is also pretty common because things are more complicated than they are binary and he's always a color wheel understander. his gender is faglady but realistically her gender is also just nothing you could comprehend if you're not open to contradiction. you can't expect him to fit into neat little boxes, she just won't do it, it's not anybody else's business but his.

so. transfem gay man is probably still where he's at in general at this point in time in my writing but as time has gone on his egg has increasingly cracked lol it's just a matter of like... what's going on in his life, who she's with, how safe he feels being herself. as of right now, she saves herself for tim and tim is nothing but reverent about it and i could go ON about how her sex life goes hand in hand with her gender but i don't want to flood the dash with BDSM discussion LOL even though i have thoughts for MILES about it. i talked a bit about it in the link above iirc. it's incredibly soft and meaningful and also, crucially, sexy. but mostly it just makes her feel so incredibly safe and desired and respected and these are all things that were previously missing from her life in such a huge way, like.

look at his life. look at the life he's lived and tell me he's ever been fully happy playing the role he was put in. the expectations his mother had of him, that gertrude had of him, the way he was expected to obey and sacrifice and even hurt people at times because that's just how the world works, right.

well, he's never wanted to participate in that way of living! and he only did it as a survival mechanism because where else could he go but always come back home to mary and her dreams for him which were always just an extension of herself, he was nothing to her but an extension of herself and her wants and her beliefs and he was anything but that, even when he tried to blend in. half the time he measures his life from injury to injury. his whole life felt like nothing but punishment and for a long time he wouldn't even know what for.

it can be such a transgender narrative if you look at it. the repression that he'd have had to deal with is insane even if you look at how loud and proud he is about his sense of style (which is extremely queer in and of itself.)

and i also just do not buy transmasc gerry i'm so sorry you can absolutely have that HC if you want and i will not attack you for it but look at him. listen to him. and also remember that eric, who died when gerry was 2 years old, referred to him as his son. sorry but that to me says he's amab because He Was Un Bebe. also in what WORLD would mary be a supportive parent to a trans kid. she literally insists on calling him by his full birth name that he DOESN'T LIKE BEING CALLED; classic trans thing! he canonly has a PREFERRED name. a preferred androgynous name!

it just makes more sense to me that he's transfem. i don't believe he has a desire to be all that traditionally masculine. he literally is so gnc in canon and his whole life just reads to me as "person who did not get the chance to fully embrace themselves because everything was just too damn hard." i also enjoy depicting people transitioning later in life, because it's never too late! it's NEVER too late to embrace who you are and work out who you've wanted to be for a long time.

i think he still lives in ambiguity and grey areas and blindspots. it may not have even occurred to him that she wanted to transition until later in life anyway because life never slowed the fuck down for him enough to let himself ask the questions! but he knew he wanted his hair long. he paints his nails. he wears eyeliner and dangly jewelry and alt clothes and yeah, cis people can do that, but it's also a way to flag! a very strong way of flagging! these are all the things that felt right to him in canon and no one stays that alt into their thirties without a little bit of gender going on somewhere in the mix, be serious, y'know? g-d. i'm so invested forever in gerry's gender jfhbnkjn.

he doesn't like labels, he really doesn't. and she might not ever call herself a woman as much as a lady in particular but she likes the phrases "good girl" and "princess" in bed, she likes being seen as feminine in comparison to a partner, she has feminine preferences. she would probably use more reclaimed slurs to refer to herself than i'm comfortable just tossing around but like, a lot of people prefer those as identifiers than "man" or "woman" like i refer to myself as a fag dyke all the time and it's more affirming to me than trying to decide if i'm a trans guy or if i'm a butch dyke At All Times. gender can be complicated! i think it IS complicated for gerry at the moment with his baggage but i imagine if he were ever able to really let go of that baggage, she'd be a very different, happier person. i think she would like it to be simpler sometimes. she treats it simply even if other people might not be able to. she's really calm about all of it, and even as it changes, it just makes her confidence grow. really comes down to the people she's surrounded by and the opportunities that she manages to grab a hold of in terms of finally letting herself just be. and i just think the results of it are really gorgeous.

anyway transfem gerry truther forever

#asks #wytchcore #f slur #ronologues #more like just an infodump but yeah

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rjalker · 2 years

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the thing that really fucking pisses me off about Whipping Girl is the same shit as transmisics now pretending that they always respected gendernonconforming AFAB people Back in The Day™ and how it's so sad that "girls can't just be tomboys anymore" as though they ever fucking let us be comfortable the way we were instead of forcing femininty on us every chance they got and literally abusing us for not performing femininity to their standards.

What do these two things have to do with eachother you ask??? Julia Serano's insistance that people who are feminine are always the most oppressed every single time, including cis women.

She literally argues that butch women have more social standing and receive less abuse than women who are traditionally feminine and wear makeup and dresses the way society wants them to.

She literally fucking argues that femininity is the thing you get oppressed for, misogyny has nothing at all to do with sex, nope, if you're a person with a uterus as long as you dress "masculinely" well now actually you're privileged over people who dress "femininely", no matter what.

Like I don't know why it took me so long to figure out why she choose to make this absurd fuckign argument over every other possible hill she could choose to die on, then I realized that this is her attempt to decouple misogyny from sex entirely.

Like she literally thinks that butch cis women are treated better than cis women who do adhere to society's expectations of femininity. She's not even just fucking talking about how butch cis women might be privileged over feminine trans women, she's explicitly arguing that butch cis women are privileged over traditionally feminine cis women.

She literally thinks that all femininity is socially demonized and hated by virtue of being feminine. She thinks all forms of masculinity are heralded as powerful and are respected no matter what.

So on one hand we have cis transmisics claiming that, actually, they've totally always respected tomboys. Tomboys were never ever ever abused or harassed or degraded or told something was wrong with them for not being feminine. Not according to these people who are literally just fucking lying to defend their hatred of AFAB trans people by pretending it's actually concern.

And then on the other hand you have a transmisic trans woman who thinks nonbinary people aren't real and the white western gender binary only exists because it's right (not because of transmisia or racism or colonization or anything like that, no, no don't be ridiculous /s) who thinks.......that tomboys were never ever ever abused or harassed or degraded or told something was wrong with them for not being feminine. Because she's decided that actually, masculinity is always revered and femininity is always demonized, because she's decided that her personal experiences are universal and apply to everyone, everywhere, despite the fact that it's demonstrably false, and she would know this if she'd bothered to speak to literally anyone with different experienced before she published her fucking book where she pretends her experiences are universal across the board.

Like I'm sorry I just cannot get over how fucking absurd this is. She literally thinks butch women are treated better than socially-acceptable feminine women are. All because she couldn't think of any other fucking way to argue that misogyny is real and it affects trans women too except to fucking divorce misogyny from sex-based oppression and instead act like it's only attacking femininity and nothing else, therefore cis women who are gendernonconforming are always privileged over traditionally feminine cis women.

The next person who claims AFAB people who are not feminine are treated better and are privileged over AFAB people who are feminine, or claims that society has always adored and loved and cherished AFAB people who are gendernonconforming is going to get launched into the heaviside layer so they can get eaten by amoeba dragons.

You cannot fucking pretend that misogyny is completely and utterly divorced from sex-based oppression and then claim you have critical thinking skills. You cannot fucking pretend that misogyny is only used to attack femininity and uphold masculinity and nothing else at all and claim you have critical thinking skills.

You cannot claim that your experiences with misogyny and transmisia as a white binary trans woman with enough money to go to collage who thinks nonbinary people aren't real are universal and apply to literally everyone on the planet no matter what and then claim to have critical thinking skills.

#misogyny #mispergeny #exorsexism #transandromisia #treimisia #Julia Serano #Whipping Girl #I will continue to flip flop back and forth between #'please read this books os oyu can see this bigotry first hand'#and 'don't fucking subject yourself to the bigotry in this book'#but whatever #it's infuriating #she got paid to write this shit #didn't even fucking reread it when she was done to make sure she wasn't CONTRADICTING HERSELF EVERY OTHER ARGUMENT

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blaebeast · 2 months

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Character Bio: Kanne

Name: Kanne

Age: 35(?)

Sex: Female (She/They)

Weapon: Greatsword

Faction: Cruelty

Occupation: Primord

Relationship Status: Single

Close Friends:

Friends: Hadet, Farris

Knows of: Sirit, Hugo, Bones, Salome

Family: None

Goals and Motivations:

- I exist to fight. The call of war fills my lungs. The urge of battle runs amidst my veins. The desire for bloodshed runs inherent in all Beasts, but I have mastered it. I am a warmonger. Battlemaiden. A true conquerer.

- I have only ever lost one battle in my entire existence, and that was to Hadet in the Primord Battles. How he was able to beat me is beyond my comprehension. Because of my defeat, I am below him, and he is always ready to remind me just how he beat me. No matter how much I train and fight, Hadet always wins when we spar. He never cheats. He fights like a true warrior. He is honorable. I respect him, fear him, and hate his guts. I have no choice but to listen to his orders.

- Sirit and Grows-Bones are unfit for the role of Primord. For years, Primords have been the most physically strong and capable Beasts, and while Sirit is a powerful mage, she is weak without her magic and her monster. Bones, though imposing in stature, cannot fight and does not care for battle. Both are weak, and I’d love to usurp them of their titles, but Hadet protects them. They do not have my respect.

- Farris what happens to weakminded Beasts that give in to their carnal desires and do not temper their minds. I may be violent, but at least I am sensible and calculated. Farris is truly an untamed monster who listens to only Hadet and I through use of violent force. I think he should be castrated.

- I’ll never admit it aloud, but I am terrified of becoming pregnant. The idea of a living creature, growing inside of your organs and feeding off of your body is nauseating to conceive. Plus, if I were to become pregnant, I would have to stop fighting to raise offspring, putting all of my desires and missions on hold for at least 20 years. It is selfish of a child to demand so much help, so I refuse to become pregnant, have sex or even date. I take herbs that keep me from going into Estrus. As a Primord, however, there is the expectation for females to produce offspring. I have been approached by many males, didals, and even females, who have tried to demand my body from me, in which case I remove their offenders from their body. I dry them out and string them on my wall in the Bulwark as a reminder to all to leave me and my body alone.

- My breasts removed for two reasons: they got in the way of me fighting and they were an easy target for people to grope. So I cut them off. I like the scars and find them a testament to my devotion to war.

- I’d love to remove Hadet from his rule over us Primords and rule all of Cruelty with an iron fist. I want to rule the world.

- I worship the god of Victory and the god of Death. My weapon can have its heritage traced back to the god of Victory.

Personality and Interests:

- I love to fight. I don’t mind sparring, but I want to cut into opponents with actual metal, not wood or leather.

- People either fear me or revere me. I am popular with the people of Cruelty for my violence. I’m fine with this, so long as they don’t get in the way of my goals.

- No one should fear death if you die honorably in battle.

- Sending Sirit body parts of fallen foes is like a little game for me. Which opponent has the best muscle tone? Who’s swing stung me the hardest? Were there any with interesting traits? Although Sirit is weak, I am fond of her as a little girl. She is cute and helpless, like a baby animal. Sometimes, if I notice that a foe was well endowed, I will send it to Sirit for her to use on her Monster. She and I have a magical box in which I can place and item and she’ll receive it.

- I’m not much of a talker. Sure, you can talk at me, but good luck having me respond. I don’t care about you.

- I like to look good and take care of my body. I am only efficient as a war machine if my body is in good condition. Being aesthetically pleasing helps my morale, too.

- For me, personally, Kanne is the weapon more than the flesh. Kanne is the action of the body using its weapon. Kanne is the greatsword, and I become like her when she is out. This may be hard to explain to non-Beasts.

Artwork:

#open species #blaebeast #add links #character bio #lore #Primord #cruelty #Kanne #green

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yandereloverwritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Super Psycho Love Part 1

In which the star of the football team can't understand why you're so mean to him.

Yandere! Jock x Nerd! Reader

Part 2, Part 3

Content Warning: Manipulation, Sexual Themes

His dad had always recognized something off with his son but like most fathers had chalked it up to being a boy. When he was in elementary school his mom would discuss his behavior in quiet, hushed tones while hunched over her baby blue '#1 Mommy' mug – the way he was frequently written up in school for roughhousing and how her fellow mommy friends were hesitant to arrange playdates between the kids. He dismissed it as parents coddling their spineless, sheltered children and pushed her to drop it. It was easy for him. His dad thought all of the world's problems could be fixed with a little less bitchin' and a lot more backbreaking work. It wasn't until eighth grade when he had broken Eric Hartwin's nose in a fist fight and his lawyer parents were threatening to press charges that his dad decided that outlet was going to be good old-fashioned American football.

He loved it, even if he initially resisted and threw week-long tantrums over it. It was his hall pass to jostle and 'play rough' with the other boys without getting yelled at and it teased out an almost childlike glee. His handsome features were perpetually twisted with cruel elation under his thick football helmet. He carried out his job as an offensive lineman with pride. There was never a moment where his smile faltered, even if he walked off the astroturf covered in blood. It didn't matter if it was his; he reveled in the brief warmth on his skin. For the first time in his life, the kids at his school had an equal amount of respect for him as they had wariness. They wanted to crowd around him like moths and be invited to the afterparties, but they also didn't want to be beaten to a pulp by one of the strongest kids on campus. They thought of him like the old testament god – equal parts revered and feared. The football team could invite an underclassman to a party and launch them into popularity just as easily as they could bully one into doing their school assignments. They dominated the school as they saw fit.

With his power came almost unlimited pussy. He admitted that after losing his virginity in sophomore year sex quickly lost its taboo appeal; you see the power itself was the real aphrodisiac. Girls from freshman to senior year (and occasionally college) threw themselves at him. They were willing to do whatever he wanted as long as he gave them occasional attention. Of course, the cheerleaders were the only ones they would be seen with around campus, but that didn't stop any of them from hooking up with other girls at parties. A peppy, too-thin flyer would wear his number at games but at in the strobe-lights of parties he would take girls to bed knowing nothing more than they were there and he was there too and really bored. He probably would have continued living that lifestyle well past the point his hairline receded into the back of his neck had he not met you.

His kinda-girlfriend, Bella, reveled in her status and made sure everyone knew she considered everyone to be less than the grass stains on her uniform. They were cutting Physics (as they frequently did) and she was complaining about this prude in gym who refused to change with the other girls. She had mentioned a name, but he didn't have a face to pair it with. So he nodded along giving little affirmative noises here and there to give the impression he cared.

"She is probably the ugliest girl I've ever met. The only chance she'd have of landing a date was if she put a bag over her head." She huffed, shuffling through papers in her locker. "I swear, half of the girls at this school have never even heard of a diet. Her butt is so big. I don't know how some guys find it attractive. It's so gross. Imagine all the cellulite underneath those gym shorts." Bella turned to him and mockingly shoved a finger down her throat and fake gagged.

He shrugged. A fat ass actually sounded pretty hot, but he knew her standards for big were much lower than any normal person. She thought that anything above 105 was morbid obesity territory. Suddenly Bella shushed him and adjusted her high ponytail.

"Oh, don't say anything. Here she comes," She rolled her eyes, "dressed like goddamn Carrie White. What is she, amish?"

You wore your hair neatly braided around the crown of your head and a tartan collared dress, courtesy of weekends spent at thrift stores and estate sales. There was a steely, fiery look on your face that caught him off guard. If he didn't know any better he thought he could feel heat radiating from you. Your lip curled in a slight scowl. He thought is was kind of funny that someone so harmless looking could be so visibly livid. It sparked something deep in him, something he hadn't ever felt: genuine interest to know the 'why' of a woman. He gave you a once over before making eye contact; if anything your expression got more hostile. Your eyes narrowed further and you scrunched your nose before you opened the locker next to Bella's.

THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

An avalanche of the belongings of your locker spilled into the halls; several textbooks, a few bent and frequently dogeared paperbacks, as well as binders, homework and quizzes with A's marked in big red ink piled at your feet. You groaned. It was a free period and you had nowhere to be, so it wasn't a big deal. But the thought of kneeling before Isabella Marsh and scrambling to pick up your things was awfully humiliating. It was your fault though, you had a tendency to throw things haphazardly into it between periods without paying much attention.

"Well, are you going to pick it up?" Bella looked at you expectantly and you chewed the inside of your lip. She crossed her arms over her chest and drummed her fingers on her upper arm. You had looked into transferring out of your shared gym class, but all the other ones were filled and you needed it to graduate. It was one of your worst nightmares to be in the gym with half of the cheerleading team. Despite having never won a single competition since the school's founding, they all had raging superiority complexes over the rest of the female student body. You chalked it up to their proximity to the football team and their status as two-time state winners.

He watched the two of you glower for what seemed like minutes before you slowly squat down, carefully staying on your oxford-clad feet instead of getting on your knees. He thought it was a shame because you'd definitely be cute looking up at him. Taking you in, he imagined that it was impossible for you to have even seen a dick in person. You looked so straight-edge and pure based on your grandmotherly style and A papers. He had never seen girls on campus dress like that, probably not even girls from the last decade.

"Here, I'll help." He announced, startling himself by his generosity.

You shuddered slightly and continued to sloppily bunch papers close to your chest. "I'm okay. Thank you though."

He had never met a girl who rejected his attention outright, much less show such blatant distaste.

"Are you sure?" He knelt down to look you in your face. You had a grimace on your face that didn't quite suit your wide, doe eyes. There was almost a feral dog look to you. It didn't intimidate him in the slightest but his cheeks grew uncomfortably warm. He could still tell that you were cute despite such an ugly expression. Your lips were tinted a rosy red, like you had been picking at the skin. He lamely picked up a copy of 'The Bell Jar' and dumbly pretended to read the back.

"Yes. I'm sure." He didn't need to look at you to feel the intensity of your Kubrick stare on him. It wasn't the 'I want to fuck you' daydream-gaze from starry-eyed women that he was accustomed to, but the 'I want you dead' glare that nobody (especially a girl) would dare give him even as a joke. He limply held his hand out, offering you the book. You took it curtly, your fingers scraping by his. He stumbled as he stood up, trying not to feel awkward.

You hadn't noticed the effect you had on him. Maybe if you did, you would have been more careful after. Before he could say anything, you had stormed off again, clutching the book so tight your knuckles were white.

"God, what a stuck up bitch." Bella commented under her breath.

"I wonder what her problem is." He mumbled. What he really meant though was that he was going to figure out what your problem was.

He had a reputation; he was a bad person who went through teenage girls like tissues to jack off into. He was the antithesis of anyone you'd ever respect, much less date.

You had seen some of the girls. Not that you had many friends to gossip with, but it wasn't uncommon to see a girl or two crying in the bathroom before first period after the weekend of a big game because he never texted them after. It was the first week of autumn the first time you heard about him and it wasn't like you were eavesdropping or being weird about it. You always arrived early to put on makeup in the bathroom, since your parents didn't allow it at home. So you'd stand perched on your tippytoes with a mascara wand in one hand while listening to a small group of girls comfort their distressed friend. She'd weep on their shoulders, barely able to stand because of her burning humiliation. You'd multitask: watching through the mirror out the corner of your eye while applying a thin, barely-there swipe of taupe eyeshadow with your fingertip.

"Shhh," A brunette with braces stroked a redhead's back softly, "It's going to be okay sweetheart. We all make mistakes."

A lanky girl with a small patch of acne on her cheek sighed, "Not to be that person, but we told you that he's not a good guy."

Sometimes you wished you had friends like that. They seemed so supportive and kind and in a way it made you feel like a friend by association. It became somewhat of a routine during football season; you'd take your contraband cosmetics into the bathroom and listen to yet another heartbroken girl recount their time at a party thrown by the football team. It didn't take long before you grew to hate them all, even if you've never interacted with any members of the team. It didn't help that they sucked school funding dry so there was nothing left for the debate and chess team...

When you hurried off, you didn't know that he took it as an invite to chase after you.

#yandere x reader #yandere jock #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarions

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ererokii · 3 years

Text

worship him, now.

zhongli x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of voyeurism, public sex, god worshipping (if that’s even a warning idk), impact play, hair pulling, choking, degrading (lmk if I’m missing any that you see!) nsfw under the cut// heavily unedited

everyone in liyue had their own unique way of showing reverence towards their lord. Some opened shrines in his honor, others named supplies after him or simply reciting his story. It a truly beautiful the way a nation could come together under one omnipotent being.

you pondered, coming up with different ways to worship the Lord of Geo himself— but nothing came to mind.

you thought about hanging your paintings of different battles that he fought in, your depiction only suited for your mind. maybe leaving something like that would please him right? Or even participating in the Rite of Descension , watching as he comes down to speak with you all about the upcoming year of success.

however, none seem to please you. you felt as if you could do better, bigger even. maybe something could come up and slap you in the face and tell you this is how you should repay your thanks.

meeting your lover, zhongli was a blessing. you wondered if meeting him was a result of your prayers being heard by the archon. either way, you were beyond grateful. after spending two years with him, zhongli taught you the different ways of life in liyue. valuing every single mora (mostly because he makes you both go broke), respecting all history and most importantly— ways to worship your dead archon, knowing it was him but wanted to keep the tradition alive. Even if he had passed, you among many would continue to send wishes to him.

what you didn’t expect was to be holding on for dear life on the golden plates that protrude from the base of the state— cunt full of your lover’s cock.

zhongli’s gloved fingers dig into your soft skin, leaving bruises as he pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts, sweat trickling down the side of his face. your pants and whimpers are the only thing heard in the dead of night, everyone gone to sleep in their beds and wonder for the next day.

his blunt head bumps against your cervix with every rut of his hips, your gummy walls clamping around the penetration.

“zhongli,” you moan out, hanging your head forward. every move, your body jolts forward, tits bouncing as he grabs one roughly, flicking the perky bud with the tip of his index finger.

“How do you think your god would react to a little whore as yourself?” he muses into your ear, teeth nibbling on the shell. “Tell me darling, what do you think he would do?”

you babble incoherent noises to him, the feeling of his cock dragging within you is the only thing you can think about. it’s all so much, waves of pleasuring flowing right after the other as you can yourself getting dragged towards the edge.

“he can’t hear you.” his hand squeezing your throat, shock waves sent to your fluttering pussy as you clench around him unexpectedly, a sharp but low moan leaving his lips. “Speak up will you.”

“M-Morax!” You cry out, back flushed against his chest now as you try staring up at the statue through the blue dim light. you weren’t sure if you were calling out for your lover or the statue— either way your mind was too fogged to even concentrate on this simple task.

through blurry vision, you gaze at the man sitting at the top, legs spread as he holds a cube in his hand. “And what do you want to tell him?”

“I..I wanna give him my thanks!” You gasp, his balls slapping against you with every pound of his hips.

“Do it. He’s a patient man, but even he loses his composure once in awhile,” he brings, biting down on your shoulder.

when you failed to do so, zhongli let out a noise and slowed the rhythm of his hips, listening to your whines.

he gazed down where you connected, watching as you poorly wiggled your hips back into him, wanting to reach your impending orgasm.

you gasp out when his hand comes down on your ass, a stinging sensation left in its wake.

“I said,” he presses down on the small of your back, enjoying the curve you produce. “Worship him, now.”

“M-..Morax,” you slur out, drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Every rut of his hips brings you closer to what you desired most. “T-thank you..!”

Your body trembles as your moans become more high pitch. “Thank you for protecting us!” You sob out through broken cries, your lover’s slick covered cock pulling out all the way before roughly slamming back in. “F-For giving us a new home!”

An electric pulse shoots through your, your fingers going numb from how hard you’re gripping the gold plate. “And what else?” Zhongli growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging you back just a bit. “Look at him when showing your thanks.”

“M gonna cum!” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut as the band was ready to snap. “C-Can I cum please?! I’ve been a good girl please!”

However, when speaking, your head is titled up to the statue, as if asking him for permission.

A gloved thumb rubs small yet slow circles— a complete opposite from the pace of his hips. The stimulation makes you want to squirm away, but being put in this position makes you realize you have nowhere to go.

“Fuck,” a low curse leaves zhongli’s lips, followed by a deep groan. “Beautiful... so beautiful. I heard Morax loves good little whores like yourself...you’re doing so well for him.”

Light kisses are peppered along your neck, the feathery touches just adding more heat to your body. You knew if you came without permission you would be punished, and that was something you didn’t want.

“Please please please,” you mutter underneath your breath, eyes watering from the overwhelming pleasure. As much as your body wanted to give out, you wanted more of him. You wanted him deeper, to fill you up until there’s a bulge , dripping cum.

Your legs began to shake, not sure how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself up. The way the statue glowed a light blue felt as if it were taunting you to no end. As if Morax was there with you.

Zhongli’s thrusts became more erratic, sloppy as your walls squeezed him to the point where it felt as he could no longer move. “My whore,” he accentuates with his hips, head falling back as he squeezes his eyes shut, puffs of air escaping his lips. “You’re mine..mine only. You worship me and no one else.”

You quickly nod, desperate to reach your end. You wiggle your hips against him once more, a silent cry rumbling in the back of your throat as he pinched the bundle of nerves. One last pump of his hips, the head of his cock bumps against your cervix, throwing you for a loop.

The name of your deity slips past your lips as you enter the state of bliss. You could care less who heard you or if someone caught you. It was a thrill if someone saw you, getting pounded away in front of sacred ground as you thank the God for his deeds.

Morax will be forever thankful for your choice of worship. In fact, that’s the way he wants to be worshipped by you from now on.

taglist: @katsuhera @novvabeam @mysticalchocolate @axther @yanfeisrose (add yourself to the Genshin taglist HERE)

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader smut #zhongli #genshin zhongli #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #Genshin smut #Genshin impact x reader smut #Genshin imagines #Genshin impact imagines #zhongli imagines

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vulgar-display-of-escapism · 2 years

Text

Chibs Telford NSFW Alphabet Part 1

Let me just preface this by saying that I'm hitting a major self-doubt about my ability to actually finish this thing. So I figure I either post little by little or not at all.

WARNING: Not your usual ABCs, it's filthy down here.

Trigger warning: CNC. | Chibs's got dirty mouth.

Reader discretion is advised.

A ~&~ Appetite

While Filip says he’s a grown-ass man and as such he is all about quality over quantity, you have yet to see the day your man would pass up an opportunity to get naked with you. ‘Don’t tease me, Pet. I’ve got to be at the clubhouse in 10 minutes.’ ‘The ride to TM takes you only 4 minutes, and that’s if you don’t run any red lights.’ ‘Brat.’ ‘Whatcha gonna do about it?’

He pounced.

So predictable.

~&~ Aftercare

Don’t get it twisted, girl. Sex with Chibs is no garden variety shag. The man plays rough, south of kinky and lives for that shit. That said, his post-coital ritual is a religion to him and you are the alter he worships on. After the scene is over and he’s done wrecking your body in the most savage and merciless ways, you’d better believe he will take care of both your body and your mind. ~~ You were a trembling, tear-streaked, breathless, and sweaty mess, but even in that fuzzy state between subspace and consciousness you couldn’t help but smirk a little. Your lover was just as wrecked as you were. His skin was glistening with sweat, goatee covered in the mixture of your juices and saliva and he was still fighting to catch half a breath. As soon as he did though, the magic would start flowing from that glorious mouth of his. ‘You’re a goddess,’ he finally rasped, reaching for your hand. As he started gently massaging your wrist, he asked, ‘Are ye alright, luv?’With that he brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your palm. With the kind of reverence reserved just for you, he’d murmur against your skin, ‘I respect you, you know that, right? No matter how rough I play with you, you’re always safe with me. Always.’ You wanted to correct him “how we play”, but you chose to stay silent. This time. As smart as your man was, he needed reminding that you were not a plaything but a consenting adult fully capable of using your safe word if you ever felt you needed it. But tonight you let that go, you had no energy to form words right now. Especially as his hands were traveling down the sides of your body, soothing all the places where finger-shaped bruises were starting to form. Soon, Chibs’ mouth followed the same path as his hands had. You were pulled out of your bliss, by Filip’s hand on your stomach, ‘Didn’t hear me, did ya, Pet?’ ‘Mhmm.’ ‘You will be sore tomorrow.’ ‘I’m sore now.’ ‘Sorry, luv.’ It was your turn to chuckle, ‘no, you’re not.’ ‘Let me make it up to you with a nice, hot bath?’ ‘Only if you carry me to the bathroom.’ ‘Don’t I always?’, he replied with a wink before getting up and padding to the bathroom. ‘You do… Still not calling you daddy, though.’ You shouted playfully when he was out of sight. ‘Baby steps, my love, baby steps’

B ~&~ Boobs vs Butts If Chibs were to pick just one part of your body that did things to him, it would be the part with the most power to distract him - that mouth of yours. Always. From the way you lick your bottom lip after you’ve taken that first sip of coffee in the morning to the little pout, put on for show, when you are being a brat and sass him. And especially, especially - when he looks down at you - when you lick your lips right before you dart your tongue out to tease the tip of his cock. And Christ, both of those lips wrapped around his thick shaft as your try your best to take all of him deep. You’ll never succeed, he knows, but bless your heart, watching you try always makes him, well, harder. Your neck is another kind of aphrodisiac. The sight of your throat giving him one hell of a mental whiplash nearly every time. From the Crow tattoo running from just below your right ear to the faded scar across your throat, the crow’s outstretched wing caressing the old slash mark. The possessive surge he feels, it’s a shallow thing. He knows that, but all the same seeing that mark of ownership, HIS mark, displayed for everyone to see and right next to the remainder of what almost killed you - that gave him pride. You were still standing and you belonged to him. He was a sick fuck, so what…. he was well aware. On him, the choice is an obvious one - his hands.. He was capable of drawing out so many different reactions from your body with just those.

From the little shivers running down your spine when he glides his ringed fingers along your arm, in the most innocent of touches, while you’d be sitting in his lap during a party.

The way his gloved hand caressed the inside of your bare thigh, just above your knee, when he stopped at the red lights on the way home.

And how you always, driven by instinct, leaned forward into his grip whenever his fingers curled around your throat, whenever he reached for you to kiss you, not caring where you were or who saw that unmistakable sign of your submission and, with it, trust.

“That’s my needy little Pet” He’d murmur when you were shamelessly riding his hand, heavy, ridged rings and all, while he had you bent over his lap, your panties around you calves with your ass in the air.

Seeing the imprints of his palm on your ass cheeks the next morning when you walk around the house in just a tiny thong and a crop top.

His hands gripping your wrists and holding them tightly at the small of your back as he’s thrusting his cock so fucking deep into you, making your whole body jerk just how he loves it. Aye, Filip definitely loved his hands.

C ~&~ Cum On your face. And he’s so damn cocky about loving it. ‘There ya go, lass. Such a proper lady out there. But in here, in my bed, getting sprayed in the face and loving every drop of it.’ That Mean Streak Smirk of his you loved so much is never more prominent in the bedroom than when he looks at your face and chest covered in his seed. And damn, if that isn’t a whole different level of a power trip to you. You watch his eyes catch fire again as you coat your finger and pop it into your mouth with a smirk of your own. ‘So, now what?’ ‘We’re just getting started, Pet’

D ~&~ Dirty Talk Between the rugged quality of his voice and that Daddy’s Little Helper of an accent the man could be reciting transcripts from Charming’s Council meetings to you and you’d still be a quivering, drenched mess. Thankfully, his repertoire is both more vast and much more… engaging. And here’s the thing, before some clever deity put Filip Freaky Telford smack dab in your sexually uneventful path, you’d never, ever, even consider letting a man talk to you like that. And the mere suggestion that you’d love it, pffff no way. Yet here you were. Ruining yet another pair of perfectly good underwear, all because your Old Man was flexing his Natural Born Dom Energy in the middle of a SAMCRO party.“You seem to think you’re the one running this show, sweetheart. Let me help ya, you are not.” Ok, so maybe you were teasing him a little by playing pool with Tig, oh well.

But when His Darker Side came out to play, when the two of you were ‘kinking out’ {Juice should not be allowed to coin any sex-related terms, ever}, it was like participating in a primal religion ceremony. Only you were the sacrifice:

‘I could tear you apart, if I chose to, I hope you know that.’

If you pretend to struggle out of his iron-like grip “Oh, please do struggle. Makes your pussy grip my cock harder”

When you whimper helplessly as he’s pounding into you from behind and you can’t speak because his fingers are shoved down your throat: “Oh sorry,Pet. You wanted to say something? Is Daddy in too deep in your tight little pussy?”

~&~ Dirty Secret He absolutely fuckin’ treasures the knowledge that not only you are his, but you allow him the privilege of seeing the submissive part of you. The part that the rest of the world never gets to see, has no business of seeing. Out there in the real world, you are a fierce and independent career she-wolf who will not hesitate to stomp {Figuratively, of course; you’re lady-like like that.} any fool who dares to cross you. But behind closed doors, you choose to hand the reigns to him. The too-old-for-you, dirty criminal with one hell of a mean streak and a rap sheet reflecting that. And yet, for some twist of faith warped reason, you decided that he was worthy of your trust and love. Fuck him but knowing that he’s the only man on the fucking planet who gets to flip your switch, man, that is the greatest feeling in the world.

~&~ Experience

You don’t get to be a high-ranking player in a big, bad outlaw world by being clueless. Chibs’ been an active kinkster ever since Fiona first tied him up, back when he was still a young, God-fearing laddie. He knows what’s what. Among that vast portfolio of knowledge lies a deeper understanding that working smarter beats working harder. Hence, the spreader bar and the restraints. Daddy’s little helpers on the way to make his Good Girl feel loved and appreciated. Deeply and Repeatedly.

F ~&~ Foreplay Some tough men, some outlaws, check in their bad boy demeanor at the bedroom door. Not Chibs. He dials his up a notch. Or five. But whether it will be Filip and his smart-mouthed Brat fucking each other’s brains out, or Chibs’ Sinister Side playing with his victim … all depends on whether Sin has been explicitly invited. He’s kind of like a vampire that way… {TBC}

#Chibs Telford #Kinky shenanigans #Kinky SOA ABCs

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cowboyjen68 · 2 years

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Hey Jen, as a chivalrous, old school butch who treats the femmes in her life with respect, do you think chivalry is dead amongst younger butches? The way you talk about femmes like they’re beautiful and deserve to be cherished, I don’t see that at all on dating apps unfortunately. So many of these butches on lesbian dating apps are fuckboys. Like they’re not interested in you unless it pertains to sex and they’re so unromantic..maybe I’m just old fashioned but I would like to be treated with respect and not just a girl you smoke up, sleep with, and forget to text back after your night together. Sorry I’m just frustrated by the dating scene in my city..like just because they’re hot and handsome they think they can treat girls poorly..

I absolutely do not think chivalry is dead among young butches, nor is respect for women whether they find them attractive or not. I have many younger butch friends in my circles and, while not all are attracted to femmes, many show nothing but awe for women and how wonderful they are.

Please allow me to wax poetic about butches and femmes. While being butch does not form our personality, one of the most common things we share across generations is the enjoyment it brings to us when we can help a femme, make life easier for them, make the smile. Butches know women can open the door and reach the thing and do all the things we do, but it is so wonderful when they allow us the pleasure of doing even little things to treat them in a special way. To bring a smile to their face. It bring happiness to our hearts.

When a femme feels safe in our presense, and allows her vulnerablilities to show because she trusts us butches feel honored.

This all being said, on line dating is weird because butches, in my day, were prone to preening and strutting in bars to get the attention of the femmes or to let the other butches know.. back off. Even me with my out going personality could be know to swagger a bit and “puff up”. Now, looking back it was quite the endearing ritual and how ANY of us got a woman’s attention or phone number is beyond me. On line perhaps is the same. Butches trying to fulfull some preconceived notion of being the strongest, the most aloof, the most “dominant” in hopes of standing out among the crowd. In the end, they just end up being the crowd. The same as everyone else.

Sadly I do know that many butches (and this is cross generational) don’t hold the same reverence of women that I do. Frankly, that breaks my heart. Women, femmes, deserve to be uplifted and supported. Treated with love and respect and kindness. Being handsome or hot or whatever is not an excuse to be flippant with another human’s feelings. I don’t know why the disconnect and disappointing behavior is so prevelant in the butches you meet. I am so sorry. I can only reassure you, there are lots of butches your age looking for a femme to form an equal and loving relationship with where mutual passion and respect are the norm.

I hope you can get to a woman’s festival or to a women’s space where the butches are your age but “old school” in their behavior. Don’t give up. They exist.

For me being butch is as much about the romance and chivalry and making sure a woman feels safe when I am around as it is the way I am perceived. Take heart. You will find the right one. Do NOT settle.

#butch #femme #dating.#lesbian

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sleepingdeath-light · 3 years

Note

Got any nsfw hcs for Darius (Owl House)? I gotta (affectionately) bully a friend 👀

Smut Headcanons | Darius (18+)

Thank you for requesting! And I 100% support your venture! Feel free to send in asks or requests to embarrass your friends, I’d love to help out haha

These are written with no particular order or reader insert in mind and are more general, so apologies if they appear disjointed in anyway!

Note : Not really confident in the format of this post and how I portrayed the character as I haven’t written for Darius before and am only able to base his characterisation on available clips and the wiki. So this may be reworked in the future.

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

darius is a coven leader first and foremost, a position that demands respect and reeks of authority and dominance. he loves the perks and reverence that come with his place in the coven and this cockiness would absolutely leak into your sex life.

darius is always in control; he’s a dominant by nature and would only ever hand over the reins if he were feeling to weak to take the lead (but still wanted to get off)

he’ll order you around with gestures, words and a certain look that is dripping with a mixture of lust and superiority — practically daring you to talk back or otherwise disobey him

if you do what he asks you’re his good little [girl/boy/witch] and he’ll offer you light praise and earth shattering pleasure

he may even spend more time on your pleasure than his own

but if you act bratty or deny him, then you’re a dirty little peasant and he’ll punish you accordingly

edging, impact play, bondage and leaving you there until you’re in tears and begging for him to come back

either way, he always gets what he wants

as for sex itself, his rude demeanour and superiority complex probably combine in some rather interesting ways.

as mentioned above, darius will degrade you during foreplay, particularly if you decide to be a brat

but this will ramp up during sex

mirror sex is something he likes to indulge in, so there are a number of reflective surfaces around his bedroom

above his bed so he can see you squirm and writhe from below

on either side of you so he can watch himself enter you from any angle he likes

to the front and back of the bed so that he can make you watch yourself come undone at his hand

really, they serve any purpose he likes

when you’re being disobedient, he’ll sit on the edge of the bed with you in his lap, gripping your waist with one hand and holding your chin with the other — forcing you to watch as he takes you whilst whispering the most lewd things in your ear

“you seem to have forgotten who you belong to, so let me remind you”

“you belong to me.”

“nobody else can make you feel this way.”

“remember this the next time you think about disobeying me.”

“you are mine.”

and variations of that whispered lowly into your ear as you watch him thrust into you over and over again until he finally allows you to come

on top of that, he’d probably be very interested in marking you in one way or another — just to show who you belong to.

he might give you hickeys or bite you to show you who owns you, but he’s far too prim and proper to have you walking about with those on show

no, he has a reputation to uphold and having his lover look so unsightly would only be another rumour he’d have to squash

so, instead, he’d buy you a collar of sorts — one that isn’t so obvious that it couldn’t be mistaken for a choker, but heavy enough to remind you that it’s there

he may even take to calling you “puppy” or “kitten” if you seem particularly aroused by the idea — or “mutt” if you’re being a brat.

#reader insert #sleepingdeath hub #hcs #headcanons #toh #the owl house #toh x reader #the owl house x reader #toh darius #the owl house darius #darius x reader

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violetmagdalene · 2 years

Text

Thérèse Dreaming (1939) and Maya Hawke

PART 2 - SYMBOLISM AND LYRICS

Same warnings: misogyny, abuse, pedophilia (none are graphic descriptions), and language.

See part 1, 2, coming soon: 3

The Dream, verse 1

I go see Thérèse dreaming She's stretching out her sore shoulder Leaning back, eyes closed, reaching up She is wishing she was older Dreaming of an appaloosa Saddled up, riding out of town Dreaming of a Shelby cobra Digging her tires in the ground

What do you see in Thérèse’s face? Is she relaxed, relieved, or in deep thought? The title tells us that she’s dreaming but is it a good dream? Personally, I see some strain on her face. I take note of how tightly shut her eyes are. Maya gives her daydreams like riding horses, fancy cars, and leaving town. There’s a sense of freedom in this. I think it makes Thérèse more real. Who hasn’t been a little girl dreaming of something bigger?

Growing Pains

Bleeding, bringing in a new year mess

Unaware of the stain on her dress

It's tactless, its a test

It's just Thérèse

The scandal of the painting, the exposed underwear. Sadly, I’ve never seen the painting in person, so I can’t tell you exactly what I see but many interpret the stain or shadow on her underwear as menstrual blood. If she’s eleven, it’s likely she hasn’t had a period for a very long time and probably doesn't realize. The beginning of puberty is very difficult for everyone, especially women. It’s messy and it always feels wrong, but it’s the first step to bodily adulthood. Not to mention the preconceptions and misogyny around periods. Only recently and in every specific spaces it has been okay to even utter the word period. Personality, i'm tired of phrasing like ‘that time of the month.’ And I think Miss Hawke may be too because in her version of the painting, she proudly wears a red stain.

The Perversion, verse 2

White kitten in the corner

Obscene

It really says it all

Milk matches her underwear

Get her down

Take her off the wall

‘Get her down, take her off the wall’ may refer to the movement started by Mia Merrill, a human resources manager who saw the painting at the Met (where it still is today). The Met responded politely, but declined. Merrill replied: “I would consider this petition a success if the Met included a message as brief as, ‘Some viewers find this piece offensive or disturbing, given Balthus’ artistic infatuation with young girls'.” Which is something I agree with. I do believe that what Maya is doing through her music and art is of the utmost respect and reverence for Thérèse and probably is the most kindness her soul has received in a long time.These lyrics talk about the very likely meaning of the white cat in the painting. Balthus has used the cat metaphor in his work multiple times, all paired with a woman reclining in a revealing pose. See nude with cat. One can infer that the cat represents the slang for female genitalia: pussy. Having it lap at the bowl of milk is a pretty thinly veiled representation of oral sex as well. Maya tells us this, ‘obscene, really says it all.’ Reminding us of the harsh reality that the model is a young girl.

Final

She empathizes with your feelings

She's more interested in the ceilings

She reminds me of memories

Sleeping off the growing pains

We were seeing enemies

spelling out each others names

Whispering inside our red house

While the adults were asleeping

I guess Thérèse is just for me

A quiet I keep on keeping

Maya imagines a life with Thérèse. That they could have been childhood friends. The profound sadness is overwhelming at this point in the song. ‘Thérèse is just for me, a white I keep on keeping.’ She keeps Thérèse with her, taking her away from her trauma and giving her a new story. As if she is some kind of guardian or symbol for women. I connect with these songs and videos so much because I feel the same way. Ever since I learned about Thérèse’s story, I saw myself in her. Many of us, myself included, find strength in our dreams of a better future. They motivate us. A great defender of this, author Robin D.G. Kelly calls them ‘freedom dreams.’ Dreams of racial and gender equality. Dreams of utopia, freedom and happiness. Without hope, how do you power your future?

Read: FREEDOM DREAMS: The Black Radical Imagination By Robin D.G. Kelly

My next post will discuss the music video of ‘Blue Hippo’! Each of these posts will be revised after i post them. Feel free to talk to me and send me asks! I love talking about music and art. I hope everyone is taking care of themselves <3.

#maya hawke #Thérèse dreaming #Balthus #violet's ladies #fine art #oil painting #painting #oil on canvas #academicism #violetmagdalene #blue hippo #thérèse #stranger things #robin buckley

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Colour Me Red

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: Your boss is chasing you like the proverbial hound of hell, and one vibrant shade of red is going to be his undoing, and yours.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Oral sex, allusions to smut, suggestive talking, kinda workplace harassment but not really, boss and employee relationship, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is for my jaan Lexi’s 700 Challenge. Congratulations baby girl @bluemusickid , you deserve this and so so much more. Every day I live in awe of you and can only love you more. I’ve chosen the colour Red for this challenge.

Most people arrived at work early to impress their boss. You came early to avoid yours. Every morning was a race to dress up faster so that you could be out before he pulled up at your place to give you a ride. When you’d started working at the Avengers Compound, you thought your biggest problem would be alien attacks or spontaneous combustion. Yet, here you were, being pursued by your boss who was the very embodiment of the hounds of hell.

Captain Steve Rogers, for all his brilliance, was a man unaccustomed to being told no. At one word from him, agents would run in the field and fight a battle of their lives. He was respected and revered, his beautiful visage both an endearing and terrifying symbol. However, all you wanted was for him to leave you alone.

The first time you’d met him, Steve had taken one look at you and said, “I am going to fuck you”. You had gaped at him in disbelief, wondering if this was the true Captain America. You had almost gone back home, intent on finding another job but you needed the money and well, there were so many others around, how often would your paths cross with him?

Turns out, a lot. You had applied for the PR secretary position for Natasha, so imagine your surprise when you showed up for work and were told that you’ll be working for Steve Rogers. In retrospect, you should have quit that day, but the pay was far too good. You had ignored sleazy men before, how difficult could it be to ignore Steve’s advances?

From the very first day, Steve didn’t bother to hide his interest. He offered you a seat in his office, but only after you pointedly ignored his offer to sit on his lap. He had rolled his eyes playfully, explaining your role and duties before dismissing you.

“Walk slow, I want to have a good view of that ass.”

Months later now, you could say it was a well-versed routine. He would flirt with you and you’d kindly remind him about appropriate workplace practices. He would bring you flowers, and you’d pass it on to the old lady who sat behind the reception. You almost wanted to thank him, for it was because of him you’d become a pro at running in high heels.

Arranging your documents, you waited for Steve to arrive. He won’t be happy knowing he has a press conference today. You’d typed out his speech, he only needed to say it into the camera without looking constipated.

“You evaded me again today.” Steve greeted you, entering and taking his seat behind his desk. You met his eyes, unimpressed. He never gave up, did he?

“Good morning Captain Rogers.” You said with a smile, handing him the papers that he took with a wince.

“You don’t call me Captain Rogers in my dreams.” He casually said, going over the planned interview. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him the best you could. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find Steve attractive, but you were not about to sleep with your boss.

“Can you please stick to the script this time and not call the government a piece of shit organization who are greedy, racist, bigots?” You asked, not wanting another disaster management situation on your hands.

“Spot me the lie darling.” Steve said, smiling. He threw the papers on the desk, leaning back to look at you with a fond look in his eyes. “You need to let me drive you here someday. Or I’m gonna camp outside your house so you can’t run away.”

You flush, averting your gaze. God, why did he need to be so beautiful with such gorgeous eyes?

“Can you give it a rest until the press conference? I have a lot on my hands.” You said, rubbing your temples tiredly. Steve frowned, his eyes lingering over the dark circles under your eyes before getting up and coming around the desk to stand behind you, his large hands gently taking your shoulders and kneading. A soft moan escaped you, your bunched muscles relaxing under his touch.

You leaned back farther, your head meeting his firm stomach. His fingers splayed over your collarbones, heal of the hand pressing into the soft juncture where your neck met the shoulder. Groaning, you relaxed yourself, letting Steve massage the stiffness out of your body. Slowly, he leaned down, mouth right next to your ear.

“Imagine the kind of sounds you’ll make when you’re under me.” He breathed, pressing the softest of kisses on your cheek. Your eyes widened and you shot up, putting some distance between you. Steve grinned, taking in your labored breath with interest.

“Captain Rogers” You warned, taking a step back when he took one towards you.

“Say my name.” He demanded, walking purposely towards you until you crashed against the wall. Leisurely closing the distance between you both, he caged you with his hands, leaning in close. You gulped as he got into your space, his breath fanning over your heated cheeks and eyes turning liquid.

“This is inappropriate.” You said, blinking and looking away. You were scared his super senses would smell the arousal pooling between your thighs, warming your core. Steve chuckled, dipping his head as if to kiss you but stopping short.

“I’ll let it go today, since you’ll be screaming it soon enough. Why don’t you go and edit the speech, hmm? I want that part about thanking the government for their cooperation struck.” He smelled like sin, the musky aftershave he always wore clinging to your pores and infusing in your scent.

Smiling a little at the deer caught in the headlights look in your eyes, Steve pushed away from you and flicked your forehead playfully. He turned and walked back to his desk, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as your stumbled out of his office after hastily collecting your papers. Every time you thought you’d gotten used to his advances, Steve would reduce you to a bundle of nerves with a few well chosen words.

Persistent little fucker.

If he didn’t show up in five more minutes, you’ll have a coronary. The reporters were already waiting for him, and you still needed to debrief Steve about the changes you had made. Left to his own devices, he’d unapologetically curse the government out and call out their crap with Bucky and Sam cheering from the sidelines. Again. That had been a nightmare.

“Where is he?” Jacob asked. He looked frazzled, looking worriedly at Tony from across the room. His boss was just as likely as yours to cause a scandal during a press conference and when they sat together, a shit storm was definitely on its way.

“I have no fucking idea!” You swore, running a hand through your hair and hoping your makeup hadn’t run off. You’d be sitting at the podium beside Steve, ready to kick his shin at the first moment he went off script. Jacob shot you a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder, his hairline glittering with sweat.

“One day I’ll quit this job and be a professional troll just to roast these assholes. Oh god, where the hell is he?” You bemoaned.

“Right here.”

You turn around, finding Steve striding towards you. The frustration in your eyes melted as you looked him over, the crisp navy blue suit fitting his body in a way that saliva pooled under your tongue. Shaking your head, you wagged a finger at him, trying your best to give him an angry frown instead of fuck me eyes.

“You’re the reason I’ll get greys so early in my life.” You scolded. Steve, however, lost his smirk. His eyes were trained hard on you, eyebrows turning in as if deeply disappointed. When his eyes met yours, you unconsciously stepped back and stumbled into Jacob. You knew Steve had a temper, but that anger had never been directed so harshly at you before.

“What the fuck?” He hissed from between clenched teeth. You blinked in surprise, completely at a loss of words about why he was suddenly so angry. You exchanged a bemused look with Jacob who was inching away from you, eager to be out of sight of the fire that was so obviously burning in the captain’s eyes.

Gulping nervously, you peered at him and cleared your throat. “Captain Rogers?” Your voice was soft and confused, and yet it only seemed to incense Steve more. He made a deep rumbling sound in his chest before grabbing you by your arm and pulling you away with him. You protested, trying to steer him back towards the conference but you were no match for his strength. He remained silent as you tried to loosen his grip on your arm, alarm evident in your voice at this unexpected aggression.

He brough you back to his office, pushing you in before he shut the door with a loud bang that would be sure to scare off anyone who might have wanted to step in and save you. Facing him in bewilderment, you opened your mouth to ask him what the fuck had gotten into him when he raised a hand in warning.

“If I hear ‘Captain Rogers’ pass one more time from your lips, I’ll shut you up in a way that will leave your throat sore for days.” He growled. Your breath hitched, fear and thrill spreading like venom through your blood as he prowled towards you, completely masculine and yet feline in his approach. Your legs refused to follow your command to move away and stayed rooted to their spot, trembling when Steve was standing right before you.

“Say my name.” He whispered. You licked your lips, eyes locked with his as his name passed your lips for the first time ever.

“Steve”

It was barely audible and yet you could see the shiver that ran down Steve’s body, a victorious growl expelled from his throat and suddenly you were pulled flush to his chest, his lips enveloping yours and branding a searing kiss on your lips. You gasped into his mouth, clutching his shoulders to keep steady on your legs that had turned to jelly.

“You dare,” Steve said, pulling away to glare at you, “you dare wear that shade of sin on your mouth in front of the world?”

It took you a moment, brain still in shock from the intimate embrace you’d just came out from when you registered what he said. Taking in his words along with the red that bled from your mouth to his, you sputtered in indignation.

“Did you drag me in here because I wore a red lipstick?!” You asked, slapping his chest to push him away. Steve, unhappy with your ire, pulled you closer still and slowly traced the curve of your bottom lip, pulling back his thumb to show you your lipstick that sat in stark contrast to his pale skin.

“My girl doesn’t go out looking like this in front of the world.” He countered. You scowled, twisting in his hold so you could knock some sense into the sexist bastard.

“I won’t be policed by somebody who regularly wear three sizes too small t-shirts to fuck with my ovulation cycle deliberately. And what the fuck does it mean ‘looking like this’? What do I look like to you Captain Rogers?” You sassed, breathing heavily.

Steve fisted your chair, tilting your head back as he possessively ran his nose down your neck and sniffed appetitively. “Looking like this, like the forbidden fruit that caused man to fall. You are already my undoing, do you wish to cause a war looking as tempting as this?”

Anger that had boiled in your gut disappeared as if doused by water. Maybe you were still pissed at being treated this way, but the heat that simmered deep in your bones overpowered it. His words set your heart on fire, a raging desire you rarely let yourself feel near him sending you straight into his arms, your head buried in his massive chest that cradled you close. Oh so close.

“There are ten different things I have to say to you about what just happened here, but I’ll do it later when my sanity has returned to me.” You said and Steve chuckled, his arms around you strong like boulders.

“If my kisses alone drove you insane, you’ll be a puddle of dumb mess after I’m done with you.” He huskily whispered in your ear and your core pulsed, a warm gush flooding your panties. This man would be the death of you. For months you’d fought the urge to let him fuck you on his desk and in the elevator, trying your best to overlook this eye fucks and flirting only to end up in his arms, right where he had prophesized you belong the moment he clapped eyes on you.

You didn’t believe in destiny, but then again Steve Rogers didn’t need a divine force to interfere on his behalf to get him what he wants. This moment had been building for a while now, like a volcano threatening to erupt until it finally did, encasing those close to it in scalding layers of passion and sin and love.

“I love this shade but just this once, I’ll make an exception. I’ll wipe it off.” You conceded. This was not you accepting defeat, just a compromise. There was much left to talk about and discuss, but you had a hoard of reporters waiting for the good captain to make his big speech.

You reached for the napkins on his desk, intent in quickly wiping your lipstick off when Steve grabbed you to himself again, cupping your face.

“Oh no honey, that trace of desire won’t stain a piece of paper. The only place its going to be is smeared on my cock. On your knees.” He ordered, very much like he did on the field. And yet, the order was as much a request. You could say no and drag him to the conference right now with no consequences. He was the same man who came by every morning to give you a ride despite knowing you’d already have left. He was the same man who cheekily rolled his eyes when you snubbed his affections, and yet never said a mean word to you. What would it feel like, marking this exemplary man with your colour, knowing as he walked that he was coloured in you?

You sank to the floor, hands already working to free his cock from the confines of his pants. Steve looked at you, letting you do everything, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Peering up at him, you marveled at the fact that it took so long to have you here like this.

“You could launch a thousand ships even on your knees.” He said.

Your lips pressed against the head of his cock, kissing him delicately. Steve jerked at the first touch, digging his fingers in your flesh when you licked him from head to base, suckling lightly, teasingly. You adored the noises that escaped him, loving that he didn’t even think of hiding them from you. When it came to desire, Steve Rogers didn’t mince his words.

His cock was beautiful, silken and hard in your fist and on your tongue. He tasted like the sea after a storm, salty and electric, dangerous and beautiful. Loving him this way came easy, and though you hadn’t had much experience with cocks as big as his, you were determined to show him your feelings with a gusto. Running your tongue along his slit with an impish grin, you swallowed him deep, humming to send vibrations up his length. Had your mouth not been stretched around him, you would have smiled wide at the curse he just yelled.

Picking up your pace, you bobbed your head and rolled his balls, getting high on his taste and sounds as he came undone in your mouth, spilling his essence that went thickly down your throat and ended with a moan from both of you. Pulling away, you saw his member streaked with the red traces of your lipstick and an animalistic possessiveness swelled in your chest. You marked him.

Steve helped you stand up, kissing you deep as he seemed unable to utter anything at the moment. You reveled in his touch, holding him close and wiping the stray tear that was lingering at the corner of your eye.

“You know its love, don’t you?” He asked you softly, the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him.

Was this love? Was it love when you’d secretly smile at his fixation with you? Was it love that you always kept a flower from his bouquets before passing it on to the old lady? Was it love when you could read his tiredness in the lines of his forehead and make his coffee stronger? Maybe it was. Maybe it was love because there was no other way you’d have went on your knees to worship a man. Unknowingly, in accepting every ‘no’ you threw his way, he had earned your ‘yes’. In forsaking the access to your body, you had gifted him your heart. Holding his gaze, you pressed your lips to his palm, smiling.

“It is love.”

“Mr. Stark, where is Captain Rogers?” A reporter asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to be a part of this conference?”

Jacob groaned, kicking Tony’s shin repeatedly to no avail. He wished he could slap a hand on his boss’s mouth and drag him away, because the glint in Tony’s eyes meant that he would be working damage control for the next coming weeks.

“Rogers, you ask?” Tony said grinning, his face alight in mischief. “Friday just gave me some million dollar worth information on that, and I am proud to announce to the public that the world’s oldest virgin just got his dick wet.”

Banging his head on the desk in the view of the clambering reporters, Jacob cursed you and your libido that had ruined him.

“Why couldn’t they wait until after the conference?” He moaned, jumping out and almost tackling Tony who was about to give the media some ‘video proof’. “Oh no you don’t Mr. Stark, you sir are on time out. I’ll be reporting you to Miss Potts!”

#lexisholiday2021 #bluemusickid700challenge #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #Steve Rogers #boss!steve

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bang-tan-bitches · 4 years

Text

Title: Beloved

Word Count: 17.4k

Rating: M

Genre: Drama/Thriller/Smut

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Violence, Blood, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, Hint of Dubious Consent, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cream Pie, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Mild Dirty Talk

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi X Reader

Summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win

Written By: Admin B

Note: This was entirely inspired by Daechwita and everyone should thank A for indulging my madness and encouraging me

“Are you even listening to me?”

You jerk at the sound of your younger sister’s voice, the long carriage ride has made you sleepy. You glance over at her and give her an indulgent smile, “I’m sorry, darling. I can only listen to you wax poetic about his Imperial Highness’ esteemed looks for so long before I lose interest.”

You can’t help but laugh when Ara snaps her fan closed and tries to hit you with it, but you block it with your own fan.

“Stop or you’ll wrinkle your dress!” You giggle, “Then what will his majesty think of you?!”

She sits back in her seat, but you can see her eyes are shining with laughter. She looks positively breathtaking in her pale pink ceremonial dress. Her hair is beautifully styled with pearls and ribbons laced throughout. Her maids really made her as eye catching as possible. When the decree was first announced that all single ladies of marriageable age were invited to the palace on behalf of the imperial princess to find a bride for his majesty, you were concerned. You know Ara had fallen hopelessly in love with the emperor the one and only time she saw him, having begged father to take her to court with him two years prior. Ever since then she had this fairy tale dream in her head that they were meant to be together and you were terribly afraid of her getting hurt.

“He really is beautiful,” her eyes are dreamy as she glances out the carriage window, “did I tell you how his hair is so pale that it practically shines like moonlight?”

“Yes, yes,” the sarcasm clear in your voice, “He is the most handsome and benevolent ruler our land has ever seen!”

“He is,” you sister insists, “even with the scar!”

“He has a scar? I thought that was just a rumor.” You look out the carriage window to see how far you are from the palace. The ride seemed longer than usual, but that could have just been your boredom with the topic. You had no interest in politics - not that that had stopped your father from teaching you - and avoided going to court as much as possible. You had never even been in the presence of the emperor or the imperial princess. Ara had no interest in politics either, but that didn’t stop her dreams of becoming Empress.

“Oh! It’s not a rumor!” Your sister straightens her posture, “There’s a scar that covers his right eye! He got it during the great war when he was still the crown prince.”

“Why didn’t he -”

“Why didn’t he have the Imperial healers treat him and remove the scar?” Your sister cuts you off before you can finish your question, “He wanted a reminder to never show leniency. He was betrayed by some of his own men that weren’t loyal to the crown. He slaughtered not only the betrayers, but also their entire families.”

You furrow your brows and fix the long sleeves of your ceremonial dress, uncomfortable with the emperor’s apparent brutality, “Sounds cruel.”

“It’s not cruel. He had to ensure that no one would try to get revenge. He was protecting our kingdom from those that would try to take it!”

“Of course, of course,” you placate your sister and roll your eyes at her fervent defense of his highness.

“Don’t roll your eyes, I’m terribly sorry everyone can’t be as noble as your dear Namjoon.”

You frown, “First of all, he is Lord Kim and he deserves your respect. Secondly, he isn’t my dear anything. Nothing has been finalized. There has only been talk of marriage, but no contracts are in place.”

Ara scoffs, “Everyone knows he absolutely adores you. His eyes get all big and his cheeks turn bright pink whenever he sees you.”

You smile wistfully and look down at your lap, “He is rather adorable.”

“Mmmhmm and if it was up to him you would already be married and probably with child.”

“Ara, it is impolite to discuss such things.” You scold gently, “What if someone overheard you?”

“Who?” Ara dramatically looks around the carriage before resting back against her seat, “Who can possibly hear us? There is only me and you in this carriage. No one is going to hear us.”

“Still, you need to be appropriate, you cannot slip up at the palace.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, Ara with closed eyes gently fanning herself while you contemplate how to bring up what’s been weighing heavily on your mind. Your younger sister was spoiled and had always gotten her way, even you were guilty of indulging her every whim. You were terribly worried that she would not adjust to court life well. Your understanding was that the women could be even more vicious than the men and you needed to prepare her.

You chew your lip before deciding to broach the delicate topic, “I heard another rumor about your emperor.”

“Mmm… what’s that?” Ara opens one eye to look at you.

“I heard,” you lean forward and lower your voice, “that his harem is… extensive.”

Ara pouts adorably, “It is. Apparently he has over 300 concubines.”

“300? That has to be an exaggeration. No man would want 300 concubines. Although,” you continue quietly, “he is the emperor and a large harem would show off his wealth and power. Does he have a favorite among them?”

“Ugh,” you watch Ara’s eyes darken in anger, “Concubine Nam In-Suk. She is his favored concubine and I heard the only reason she wasn’t named his empress is because Imperial Princess Min would not allow it.”

“Why would the emperor care what his elder sister thinks?” You already know the answers to all these questions, but you hope that asking them will help Ara realize what she needs to do to secure her place as empress. The carriage starts to slow, you were almost to the palace and wouldn’t have much time alone to prepare her going forward and no time alone once you’d arrived.

“She is his advisor and closest confidant. He trusts her with everything.”

“Ara,” you grab your sister’s hand and give her a meaningful look, “It is very important that you gain the favor of Imperial Princess Min. If you have her blessing, you will not be denied. Most of the silly girls will be striving for Emperor Min’s attention, not realizing that the imperial princess is making the final choice.”

Ara nods her head, determined. “I will gain her favor.”

“Also,” you know she will hate what you are about to suggest, but it has to be done, “You need to become friendly with Concubine Nam.”

“Never!” Ara gasps and tries to pull away, “As soon as I’m chosen as empress I will make him disband his harem!”

“Ara, you cannot!” You lean close and let the severity of your demand bleed into your tone, “You must become friendly and show you are not a threat.”

“But I am a threat…” she pushes her lip out in a pout.

You squeeze her hand, “I know, darling. But court politics are not that different from bedroom politics. He will not get rid of his harem just because you demand it. If Concubine Nam thinks she can manipulate and play you, she will be less of a threat. She has his ear and his favor. Let them think you are stupid little girl with stars in her eyes. It will bend them to your will.”

“But,” Ara’s voice is quiet, “I want him to love only me.”

“Oh my beloved Ara,” you hold her close to you, “these things take time. Once you bed him and provide an heir, you will secure your place at his side. He will have to love and cherish only you. How could he not?”

Her smile is blinding when the carriage stops outside the palace gates.

-0-0-0-

“Relax,” you whisper, “you are the most beautiful lady here. You have nothing to fear.”

Ara releases her bottom lip and nods subtly. When you had arrived at the palace earlier that day, you were welcomed inside to a large hall filled with other single young ladies and their chaperones, all from the most prominent families in the kingdom. Imperial Princess Min herself greeted everyone and announced that a welcome banquet would be held that evening. You were then ushered to your rooms where you could refresh yourselves before the evening. The Daisy Courtyard would serve as your temporary home for the next few weeks. It was a smaller courtyard, but it was beautiful and secluded and you were thankful to learn that it was nowhere near the concubine courtyard.

It was almost impossible to remember how quiet the courtyard was now.

Now, in the palace banquet room awaiting the arrival of the emperor for what felt like hours with the crowd growing more restless by the minute, you dearly missed the seclusion. Imperial Princess Min was present, drinking wine and enjoying the performance of the dancers brought in for entertainment. If she was upset with the late arrival of her brother, her face did not show it.

The music abruptly stops and everyone quiets down. The large golden doors at the back of the room are opened and an imperial servant steps in, placing their fisted hand over their heart, they bow and announce, “His Royal Highness, Emperor Min Yoongi, 37th Emperor of the Min Dynasty.”

Everyone immediately bows, giving reverence to the Emperor. He is dressed in the darkest black with gold dangling from his ears, neck, and fingers. His blond hair is pulled up into a high topknot and a black headband is across his forehead.

You notice a beautiful woman trailing a few steps behind him. She is covered in diamonds. They glitter from her shiny black hair down to the long train of her bright purple ceremonial dress. The dress itself is decorated in patterns of golden tigers, matching the pattern of the emperor’s black robe.

By the clenching of Ara’s hands, you realize that this must be Concubine Nam. You discreetly nudge your sister and mouth for her to relax.

The emperor takes his seat on his golden dragon throne, while his favored concubine sits obediently at his feet. His presence is overpowering and you can feel his displeasure radiating throughout the room.

“So… I was told that one of you will be this emperor’s bride and empress consort.” Emperor Min’s voice is deep and controlled, but the underlying fury is unmistakable. You can feel his eyes trail over the room, “Do you really think that one of you will enrapture this emperor? Do you truly believe one of you will become my chosen?”

Everyone is deathly silent, afraid of angering his highness even more. You can feel his penetrating gaze stop on you. You did not dare look upon the face of the emperor. You knew the rules of the court. You keep your eyes lowered and wait for his eyes to move past you.

They don’t.

You can still feel him staring at you and after several silent minutes you hesitantly look up and meet his eyes. You feel your breath catch in your throat. He is startlingly beautiful. His features are delicate but his scar provides him a hint of roguishness that accentuates his already extraordinary beauty.

His gaze is intense and you can feel his angry aura disappear to something unreadable. His dark eyes are burning with something as a devilishly handsome smile spreads across his face.

You quickly lower your eyes and ignore the chill down your spine and the heat spreading across your face. You now understand how your sister could be so enraptured with one look.

The emperor laughs, startling you into looking again. He’s staring at his sister and smiling. You can see Concubine Nam’s face screwed up, but staring at the floor. You look away quickly before he can feel your stare. His voice is filled with warmth and something else, something unsettling, “Maybe this emperor will finally meet his bride amongst the ladies here today. Rise and enjoy the welcome feast.”

Immediately servants present platters of food to the various tables and the music starts again. You ignore the burning gaze you feel on you and direct your attention to Ara.

“Make sure you eat. You have to be strong if you plan to carry the next heir of the kingdom.” You add more food to her plate.

“Yes, yes,” Ara giggles and pushes your hand away, “I could feel him staring in our direction. Did you feel it too?”

You force a smile, “Of course. How could he not stare at you. I told you that you were the most beautiful lady here.”

When it’s your turn to introduce yourselves to the royal family, you make sure to keep your head low and only make eye contact with Imperial Princess Min once you’re allowed to rise. Next to you, your sister does the same, following your example, even as you feel the hot eyes of the emperor on you once again. Ara pays a pretty compliment to the Princess, and you smile proudly when the Princess laughs delightedly and asks for your names.

“Oh, I remember you. And your father.” Princess Min says, a delicate finger resting on her bottom lip. She shares a look with her brother and you can feel the hateful eyes of Concubine Nam on you and your sister. You ignore her. You needed Ara to win over Princess Min before she won the hearts of anyone else. “I look forward to getting to know you once again. Both of you.”

You smile, and bow again before moving on to let the others greet the royal family.

Ignoring the heavy weight of Emperor Min’s gaze, you try to keep your sister distracted and engaged during the remainder of the banquet. For every goblet of wine your sister has, you make sure she also has a goblet of water. You don’t want her embarrassing herself in front of the other eligible ladies. You relax once the emperor’s gaze is no longer focused on you and take the chance to glance towards the throne, noticing the emperor in a deep discussion with his sister. The imperial princess has a strange smile on her face and is nodding her head along to whatever his highness is saying. You also notice that Concubine Nam is nowhere to be seen.

“Where did Concubine Nam go?”

“What?” Ara quickly looks around the large hall, her voice tinged with excitement, “Concubine Nam? His highness must have sent her away.”

"Strange..” you take a delicate bite of the fresh dumplings brought out by the servants, smiling a bit at how excited Ara is to find her possible rival missing, “I thought she never left his side.”

“Well…” Ara is interrupted by the arrival of an imperial maid. The maid bows her head respectively and holds a silver tray with a folded golden parchment.

You grab the parchment and slowly open it, quickly read the contents, fold it and place it back on the tray. “Please tell your mistress we accept.”

The maid bows and scurries away. You watch her go and keep a calm mask on your face, even as your heart is racing. You knew the point of these banquets and festivities was to find the Emperor a bride, but to receive an invitation so quickly… You notice many of the young ladies in attendance are watching and you refuse to show any sort of emotion.

Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win. For Ara.

Ara grabs your hand under the table where no one can see, “What was that about?”

“Ara, did you bring that pretty pale green dress that grandfather gifted you for your birthday last year?” You take a sip of your wine, and keep your tone low.

“Of course.” Ara nods her head and grabs some fruit slices from one of the platters on the table, but by the tenseness of her shoulders, you could feel her excitement. You would have to instruct her on how to hide it better.

“Good. Wear it tomorrow.” You squeeze her hand, “we are invited to the morning meal with Imperial Princess Min.”

-0-0-0-

Imperial Princess Min’s courtyard and private rooms are absolutely gorgeous. Everything is draped in golds and pastels and smells of the fresh flowers that are placed throughout her rooms. The three of you sit at a finely crafted table in her pavilion, the only sounds are the bubbling of the large fountain nearby and the tinkling of the platters of food as they are placed upon the table before you.

“Thank you for joining me this beautiful morning.” Princess Min smiles sweetly at you both, once you rise from your bow, gesturing for a maid to pour tea, “I do hope you enjoy the meal.”

“We are honored to be invited by her majesty for a meal. Thank you.” You bow your head reverently and sit in the chair the maid has pulled out.

“Yes, thank you, your highness.” Your sister follows suit. The plates are quickly set with delicious smelling food, but you can only sip your tea, taking your cue from the princess who has barely glanced at her plate.

“Tell me,” Princess Min takes a dainty sip of tea, “Are you enjoying your time at the palace?”

“It is very beautiful here. We are forever indebted to the emperor and the imperial princess for allowing us to visit.” You keep your voice soft and your sister nods along, her cheeks slightly puffed with the food she has in her mouth.

“And your rooms…” Princess Min continues, directing a maid to put some kimchi on her plate, “are they to your liking?”

“Yes your majesty. The Daisy courtyard is beautiful. Thank you for gracing us with such lovely lodgings.”

The princess inclines her head briefly and smiles, “What do you think of the emperor?”

“Oh, he is wonderful. The best ruler our empire has ever seen.” Ara gushes enthusiastically, “May our emperor live ten thousand years!”

You and Princess Min share a small smile, both seeing that Ara is completely infatuated with his highness. You take a small bite of the delicious food on your plate as Ara continues to praise the emperor.

“And you?” Princess Min interrupts your sister and turns her gaze on you. Her dark eyes are so similar to her brother that it catches you off guard for a moment, “What do you think of the emperor?”

You didn’t understand why but you feel like your answer holds more weight than your sister’s. You lick your suddenly dry lips, smile demurely at the imperial princess and respond as blandly but nicely as possible, “His highness is a most generous and benevolent king.”

“That he is.” Princess Min smiles and glances at your sister, “And what are your thoughts on his harem?”

Your sister is quiet for a moment and you can see her struggling with finding what she wants to say, you gracefully answer for her, “I’m sure my sister would be most grateful to have others help serve the emperor.”

“Yes!” Ara nods eagerly, “I am most grateful that the emperor has many to keep him company.”

Princess Min hides a giggle behind her hand and you tilt your head, curious what could make the Princess giggle like that.

“Indeed. You may be grateful for the… help.”

Your eyes widen but Ara continues to look confused. You share a look with the Princess before she continues, “My brother, the Emperor, has a… healthy appetite.”

As if summoned by your discussion of him, your meal is interrupted by the arrival of a servant stepping into the pavilion, “His Royal Highness, Emperor Min Yoongi, 37th Emperor of the Min Dynasty.”

You and Ara quickly place down your chopsticks and stand from your seats to bow properly.

“You may rise.” The emperor’s voice is deeper than you remember. He is dressed in an informal black robe patterned with crimson lotus flowers. Thick golden necklaces rest against his collarbones and his pale hair is pulled up into another topknot. You notice that his long, golden earrings aren’t as extravagant as the ones he wore the night before. You and Ara quickly return to your seats.

“Here is my darling sister.” The Emperor gently kisses Princess Min’s cheek before sitting in the empty chair that is placed directly across from you by a servant. “I hope you do not mind if I join you three for the morning meal.”

“Imperial Brother I can see right through you.” Princess Min giggles, “You just want to look at my pretty company.”

You feel your breath hitch when the emperor locks eyes with you, a dangerous smile pulling at his full lips, “Can you blame me? I cannot remember the last time I’ve been so enchanted.”

Princess Min smiles and glances between you and your sister, “The sisters are true beauties.”

“Indeed,” The emperor's eyes flicker to your sister before focusing back on you, “It’s refreshing to know that a father did not exaggerate his claims of his daughters’ virtues.”

"Our beauty does not dare compare to the Imperial Princess." Your sister answers perfectly, the flattery clear in her voice. You see the smile spread across Princess Min’s face, clearly pleased with Ara’s answer.

Princess Min and Ara chatter for a while, the emperor occasionally joining the conversation, but his burning gaze never leaves your face. If anyone else notices his attention on you, they dare not mention it. You stay quiet, trying not to draw any attention away from Ara. You are proud of your sister, she is so poised as she engages in conversation with the royals. You were worried she would freeze up, or even worse, prattle on incessantly about nothing. You motion for a servant to refill your teacup and are startled when the emperor waives the servant away, refilling your cup himself. “Please, allow me.”

Everything stops around you at his actions, even the servants seem to freeze in place. You glance at your sister and the imperial princess, both completely in shock at the emperor’s generosity. Although you notice the imperial princess has a look of unbridled delight in her dark eyes.

“Thank you, your grace.” You incline your head and keep your face impassive. Only years of training drilled into you by your tutors prepared you for this. A lady must always be composed and even though you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest, you keep calm. You have no idea why his eminence would pour your tea as if he was your servant, but did not dare question his actions.

The silence lasts longer than is socially acceptable and when you dare to look at him, the emperor’s eyes are already focused on you. You can feel Ara’s eyes darting between the two of you, but you can only focus on the emperor. He opens his mouth to say something when your meal is interrupted by several maids rushing into the room. His eyes release you from your trance as he looks away.

You tell yourself that you’re grateful for the interruption.

“Your highness!!!” They all drop to their knees once they see the emperor, their heads touching the ground, “Your highness you must hurry. Concubine Nam has collapsed!”

You glance at the maids in alarm and look back at the emperor, his brows furrowed, “Have the imperial healers been summoned?”

“Of course, your highness.” The head maid answers, rising from her bow. You realize that they must have been the personal maids of Concubine Nam. The other maids remain on their knees, foreheads pressed to the ground.

The emperor turns away from the maids and takes a sip of his tea, dismissing them without words. You watch the head maid bite her lip before taking a step forward, “Please your highness, she is calling for you.”

You can see the displeasure on the emperor’s face. His eyes are angry, but the anger fades when he looks at you. He stares at you for a moment as if he’s waiting for your approval. You swallow and glance at the maids before meeting his gaze, “Your highness, please forgive this lowly maiden for speaking out of turn, but your beloved needs you. You should be at her side.”

“My beloved?” His voice is filled with mirth, and you wonder what is so humorous.

“Yes, your majesty.” You continue, licking your lips. His eyes follow your tongue. “Everyone knows she is your favored concubine. She needs you. You must attend to her.”

“You’re right.” His smile disarms you, again causing your breath to catch. “I must do what my beloved asks of me.”

With a swirl of his black robes, he is gone. The maids and his personal servants trailing behind him.

The silence left by the emperor’s abrupt departure is broken by the tired sigh of the Imperial Princess. “I apologize for Imperial Brother.”

“No, no,” you immediately respond, seeing a forlorn expression on the princess’ face, “It’s alright. Concubine Nam needs him. I do hope she is alright.”

“Yes, hopefully it is nothing serious.” Your sister cannot hide the distaste in her voice at the mention of the concubine.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious.” The princess laughs scornfully, “Concubine Nam always pulls some sort of devious trick whenever she thinks my brother’s attention might be taken away from her.”

You glance in the direction the emperor disappeared, “Does she?”

“Yes. It’s pathetic.”

You choke back a giggle when the princess rolls her eyes and instantly feel yourself relax.

“She thinks she has my brother wrapped around her finger. Always throwing a tantrum or faking some sort of illness.” She sneers and shakes her head, looking at you as if confiding something, “Several months ago, when I first spoke to my brother about finding a potential bride, I thought for sure that she would do something then, but it looks like the little bitch was just biding her time.”

“That is terrible.” If Ara is shocked at the vulgar language used by the princess, her face doesn’t show it. She is calm and poised and while you know she has a million questions she wants to ask, she is keeping her composure until the two of you are alone in your courtyard. “Hopefully his highness sees through her tricks.”

“She’s not half as clever as she thinks she is. He knows exactly what she is doing, but he indulges her.”

“I’m sure his majesty has his reasons,” you smile at the princess, “have faith in your brother.”

Princess Min stares at you, a contemplative look on her face. You don’t know what she is looking for, but after a few quiet moments she smiles beautifully, “Yes. Of course, you’re right. I have faith in the emperor. He was chosen by the gods to rule our kingdom.”

“May he live ten thousand years.” Ara says solemnly. You and Princess Min murmur in agreement.

“Still,” Princess Min’s voice is resolute as she gestures for a maid to refill her tea cup, “Concubine Nam cannot be trusted. Be careful.”

You sip your tea, pushing thoughts of the emperor’s dark eyes to the back of your mind and wonder just how much danger your sister is in.

-0-0-0-

When you return to your courtyard, servants are rushing around packing your trunks..

“Excuse me,” you feel bad interrupting one of the maids, but you have no idea what is going on and can’t help but fear the worst, “what is happening?”

“My lady,” the maid bows her head, “we have orders to move you and your sister to the Golden Bell courtyard.”

You frown and watch the servants continue to carry out your things, Ara clutches your hand, “On whose orders?”

“His Royal Highness.”

“As you were.” You dismiss the maid and turn towards Ara. You can see the excitement in her eyes. She’s practically vibrating. You nod for her to follow you out to the main yard where an imperial carriage is waiting to take you to your new courtyard.

“Sister,” She whispers, “The Golden Bell Courtyard. That’s closer to Imperial Princess Min’s private courtyard.”

“I know.”

-0-0-0-

The Golden Bell Courtyard is stunning. The main yard is filled with the fragrant Golden Bell flowers and the rooms were at least twice the size of your previous courtyard. Ara is practically giddy with excitement as she throws herself down on the large bed in the room you chose.

“He must already be in love with me.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You were surprised Ara was able to contain herself until the servants left.

“Everything is so luxurious.”

“It is.” You sit yourself at the fancy dressing table in the corner of the room and check your reflection in the bronzed mirror, “You should get used to this.”

Ara giggles and snuggles into the soft bedding. You watch her through the mirror and smile at her behavior. She was still so young and you wish you could shelter her forever. You still worried about her marrying into the imperial family, but you felt a little better knowing that Imperial Princess Min seems to have warmed to her. “You need to thank his majesty at tonight’s banquet.”

“Of course.” Your sister smiles and throws a soft goose feather pillow in the air, “I will make sure to thank him for his hospitality.”

-0-0-0-

Unfortunately, Emperor Min is not at the banquet that night. In fact, you were informed, for the next fourteen days he would not be attending any of the events Imperial Princess Min had scheduled.

You can tell the princess is upset. Her smile seems a little more strained and while she is able to handle everything as a hostess should, you can tell she is very stressed about whatever the emperor is currently handling. You have a strong suspicion it is related to Concubine Nam, but it is not your place to ask questions so you remain quiet. You do, however, try your best to help where you can, becoming a steadfast and loyal companion to her majesty, continuing to have meals with her whenever she requests and spending many afternoons in her pavilion with her. She would ask your opinions of the young ladies from the different households and tell you about what would be required of the empress consort. As the days moved along, the princess dismissed more and more of the potential brides for his majesty until only a handful were left. You were pleased that Ara seems to be the favorite.

You sit across from the Imperial Princess. She sent you a note at the morning meal requesting you to join her in her plum blossom garden this afternoon. You can tell the princess is upset. Her lips are pursed and her fingers are white as she grips her cup of tea tightly. You're afraid the delicate cup might crack.

“Your majesty’s plum blossom garden is beautiful. It must be the most fragrant and lovely plum blossom garden in all of the empire.”

Imperial Princess Min gives you a soft smile. She dismisses the servants and they step back so they are out of hearing range, but close enough to see if her highness requires anything.

“Concubine Nam is with child.”

You are silent for a moment. You keep yourself composed and don’t dare show your thoughts on your face. Your mind is frantically trying to process what this means. How could this have happened? What does this mean for Ara?

You swallow and gently speak, “Princess Min, please forgive this simple one for questioning, but I thought it was against the imperial law for a concubine to bear children?”

“It is.” Princess Min throws her tea cup on the ground in anger, two imperial maids rush over to clean up the shattered mess and prepare another cup of tea for her majesty. Once the servants step away, the Princess continues, “She stopped drinking the herbal tea the day my brother agreed to find a bride.”

“Will Concubine Nam be punished?” You don’t look at the princess when you ask, you focus on the full cup of tea in front of you.

“If she is punished, it won’t be until after she gives birth.” Princess Min takes a small bite of sweet cake, “The little bitch thinks the emperor will make her his empress consort.”

“Will he?”

“No,” Princess Min gives you a reassuring smile, “He will choose someone most deserving.” Her eyes shift as she stares at you until you feel you have to look away. “He’s been diligently working on preparing everything for his chosen consort. That and this unfortunate incident with Concubine Nam has kept him busy.”

You feel relief to know that Concubine Nam’s schemes do not seem to be working. And from the knowing smile the princess gives you, you feel elated that Ara will definitely be chosen as the consort. “What of the child?”

“The child will be recognized as a prince of the kingdom, but not an heir. Only the Empress can provide an heir.” Princess Min still looks unhappy, “I hope this won’t affect things going forward.”

It almost sounds like a question, as if she’s asking you if it will affect things. But you know that can’t be. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This news will be upsetting to Ara, but not all is lost. This can still be salvaged. She could still marry and become the empress. Her child will still be the rightful heir. “No, I’m sure my sister will love any child that his highness produces.”

“Oh, yes, of course your sister would.” Princess Min gives you a curious smile, her dark eyes shining as if she’s amused. She takes your free hand in hers, “I hope I can request your confidence in this matter.” She says and gives your hand an almost too tight squeeze, “This must not be told to anyone.”

“Of course,” You nod your head solemnly, “I won’t say a word.”

-0-0-0-

The Emperor continues to absent himself from any events involving the possible consorts for the next several days. Even though it had yet to be announced, you knew he had already decided on an empress consort, therefore he did not need to attend any of the lavish events and parties his sister had scheduled. Though as the days progress and nothing more happens, you grow more and more concerned over Ara’s position until finally you are moved again to an even larger, more extravagant courtyard.

The Mugunghwa Courtyard.

The Mugunghwa Courtyard was reserved for the empress consort and is located directly next to the emperor’s private courtyard. The servants treat you and your sister like royalty, you are given the same respects the emperor and his sister are provided. Ara is enjoying the envious glares she receives from the other ladies and you allow her to enjoy her victory, but remind her to be polite and courteous to the servants because they will be her eyes and ears to what is happening in the other courtyards(including the harem).

Soon after you’re comfortably moved into the Mugunghwa Courtyard, the gifts begin arriving. Some days when you return to your rooms after the festivities, you find fresh Mugunghwa flowers on your bed. One morning you wake up and find a bottle of sweet perfumed oil. You know that it isn’t uncommon for a groom to bestow gifts upon his bride’s family, but you’re a little uncomfortable as the days progress and the gifts become more elaborate. Silk slippers, golden hairpieces, diamond necklaces… it’s all too much. Ara has also been receiving small gifts, flowers and oils. You don’t know why, but you don’t mention the jewelry or clothing to her.

You continue to spend time with Imperial Princess Min, her personal servants would invite you, and only you, to have a private audience with her almost daily. Once, you asked her where the emperor was, as you had not seen him since breakfast almost a week ago. She had smiled at you as if you’d said the one thing she longed to hear, and informed you he’d been out of the palace. Taking care of business. But assures you that he would return soon.

“If you would like, we can invite him to breakfast again.” She takes your arm and giggles, as if breakfast with her brother is against the rules. “But I might get jealous if my soon-to-be sister pays more attention to my brother than me.”

Your heart soars at her words. This is practically confirmation that Ara will be chosen!

She keeps you updated on the goings on with Concubine Nam. The child is growing strong, and Concubine Nam has already started showing a small bump on her otherwise perfect body. While you never wish harm on anyone, you cannot hide your small sense of satisfaction when you're told that Concubine Nam is visibly distraught over the fact that the emperor has not once visited her since she collapsed.

You are still very concerned about Ara finding out about the pregnancy. You have kept your word and stayed silent on the matter, but you know Ara’s bubble of happiness will burst once she is made aware. You spend many of your days touring the multiple gardens of The Mugunghwa Courtyard in contemplation, trying to decide if you should tell Ara what is happening.

You’re taking a leisurely stroll in the hibiscus garden when you suddenly feel like you’re being watched. This happens most days when you’re alone in the gardens, but no one is ever around so you dismiss it as your imagination. You startle when you hear the emperor’s deep voice call your name.

You spin around quickly and meet the burning gaze of the emperor. He’s dressed in his signature black robe, but this one is patterned with dark blue koi fish. His pale hair is pulled back in a low ponytail with a black headband across his forehead. Today he is wearing one long golden earring and a heavy golden choker around his throat.

You briefly wonder if he would adorn his Empress in so much gold.

“Your highness!” You immediately remember yourself and bow low.

You are still bent low and staring at the ground when you see a long black robe come into view. You feel a gentle finger under your chin and your head is tilted up until you’re standing again and staring directly up into the emperor’s perfect face.

He continues to stare at you, his eyes swirling with emotion. His finger moves from your chin to rub along your bottom lip and your eyes close involuntarily. He leans closer and you can smell the clean scent of his skin. You feel his breath on your lips…

The sound of a throat clearing jolts you. You snap your eyes open and immediately step away from the emperor’s personal space. Emperor Min is glaring heatedly at a eunuch who is standing several feet behind him. The eunuch looks apologetic, but you are grateful.

“Your majesty, are you also here to tour the gardens?” You can feel your cheeks heat and you absentmindedly smooth out your dress. “The hibiscus garden is especially fragrant this time of year.”

His eyes are gentle when he looks at you. He gives you a soft smile, “No. I am here to see you.”

“Me? I do not know what I have done to deserve your attention. How can I help his majesty?”

Emperor Min’s voice is serious, “You deserve more than my attention. You deserve everything.”

You turn away from his penetrating gaze, focusing on a nearby flower, “Your highness has been very kind to me and my sister. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Do not thank me.” The emperor chuckles, “I am a king. I always have an ulterior motive.”

You realize he is most likely speaking of Ara. As Ara’s elder sister, you know you have the most influence over her and her opinions. He is trying to gain your favor so she will be more likely to accept his suit, but he must know that Ara is already in love with him. Princess Min would never keep that information from him.

“I have a gift for you.”

“Another gift?” You look up at his handsome face, “I couldn’t possibly accept anything else. You’ve been so generous already.”

Faster than you can blink, his face is so close to yours, you can feel the brush of his lips as he speaks, his hand on your chin and eyes locked with yours.

“I am the emperor. It is my divine right to give what I want, and to take what I want. Do you understand?”

You blink and quickly lower your eyes, unable to bow your head, “Yes, your highness.”

He moves away and you catch yourself before you can stumble from the suddenness of it all.

“Eunuch Ki.” Emperor Min gestures and the eunuch steps forward holding a small wooden box, golden dragons painted on it. Eunuch Ki opens the box and you cannot stop your gasp when the contents are revealed. A beautifully hand carved jade bracelet is nestled within. You can see that your name is engraved in it along with the symbols of beauty and love.

Emperor Min holds out his hand, waiting for you to give him yours. You place your hand in his and watch quietly as he gently pushes up the sleeve of your dress. His hand is so much larger than yours and you shiver when his thumb gently rubs along your wrist.

Eunuch Ki hands him the bracelet and he tenderly clasps it around your wrist.

“Perfect.”

You feel something inside you stir, “It’s lovely.”

“Not as lovely as the wrist it adorns,” he meets your eyes, “it becomes you.”

You know you should pull away, part of you desperately wants to pull away. But he is the Emperor, and you know better.

“Ara loves her gifts too!” You blurt out, trying desperately to control the way your heart is pounding.

His face scrunches in thought and he tilts his head, “Ara… yes. Your sister. I’m glad she enjoys her gifts as well.” He raises your hand, flips it in his, and places a kiss on the inside of your wrist, lips brushing the cool jade beads. “Don’t take it off.” He commands, before leaving you alone once more.

-0-0-0-

After that, you did not go into the gardens alone, always making sure Ara or Princess Min is with you. While you never did run into the Emperor in the gardens again, you still sometimes felt his burning gaze on you, but when you looked around, he was never there.

Today, you and Ara are staying in your own courtyard. You feel that both of you need a break from court. You know you certainly do. You have already had your morning meal in your rooms and were currently relaxing in one of the many drawing rooms. You smile as Ara pricks her finger again on her needlework. “Be careful Ara. A lady's hands should be soft and delicate.”

You can’t hide your laughter at the adorable glower she gives you. “Why do I have to do this? When I’m empress, I’ll have the royal seamstresses do this for me.”

“It’s a good skill to have and maybe your husband would want a personalized gift from you.”

Ara pouts but doesn’t say anything else. You sit in comfortable silence, her trying to embroider and you snacking on small sweet cakes. The days seem to be getting slightly cooler and you were appreciative. You didn’t know how long this consort selection was going to take, but you were already longing for home. You had written several letters to your father, letting him know of Ara’s progress and wanting to hear any news from home. You were hoping maybe your marriage to Lord Kim would be finalized, but unfortunately, there was no news about that. Your father seemed to avoid mentioning Lord Kim at all. As for Lord Kim himself, you sent him a few brief letters asking after his health and wellbeing, but had yet to receive a response. He was normally very quick to reply to your letters, but you brushed off his lack of response due to the fact that he must be very busy.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of several imperial servants and a finely dressed eunuch. They are carrying two large golden trunks and place them down in front of you and your sister. The eunuch steps forward and bows low.

“My ladies,” You recognize the eunuch as the emperor’s most trusted servant, Eunuch Ki, the one who was at his side in the hibiscus garden, “His Royal Highness would be most pleased if the mistresses would accept his gifts.”

You and Ara share a look and you quickly stand from the soft, golden sofa, “Thank you, Eunuch Ki. We are honored to receive gifts from his eminence.”

The large golden trunks are opened and you can hear Ara’s gasp of delight. The emperor has provided each of you a ceremonial dress made of fine, silk fabric and beautiful hair ornaments. Ara’s dress is a gorgeous light blue patterned with silver butterflies. The matching hair ornament is a hair pin styled in beautiful swirls of silver and jade, a single butterfly resting on top.

Your dress is colored a rich gold and patterned with black mandarin ducks, diamonds line the long sleeves and train. The matching hair ornament is also a hair pin, but it looks to be solid gold with two mandarin ducks resting on top of a bed of orchids made out of diamonds. You hesitate at the pattern on the dress, unsure if this is a mistake.

“If it pleases the mistresses, his highness requests you wear his gifts to the Grand Banquet tomorrow evening.”

“Of course, we would be delighted.” Ara beams at Eunuch Ki when you don’t respond right away, your eyes still focused on the pattern on your dress.

“Eunuch Ki,” you follow him to the entrance of the drawing room, your voice quiet so others cannot overhear, “I feel there might be a mistake.” You gesture to your dress and your eyes flicker towards an oblivious Ara.

Eunuch Ki eyes you for a moment, his look is heavy and almost pitying, “The Emperor does not make mistakes.”

You swallow hard and nod at Eunuch Ki, closing the door behind him and turn to look at Ara. She’s already holding the dress up against herself and admiring it in the mirror.

The Emperor might not make mistakes, but you were beginning to think you had.

-0-0-0-

You slowly make your way towards the courtyard of the imperial princess. After Eunuch Ki had left last night, you received a summons from the Imperial Princess. She requested you to meet her for afternoon tea the following day before the grand banquet.

This side of the palace was oddly quiet. You knew that everyone was preparing for the grand banquet, so all the activity would be much livelier near the grand banquet hall. You had yet to see that hall, apparently it was large enough to hold all the noble families of the kingdom comfortably.

When you enter her private pavilion, Imperial Princess Min is reclining on a giant resting sofa, a servant girl fanning her.

“Your highness.” You bow your head reverently and wait for her to receive you.

She smiles beautifully and sits up, her dark eyes shining beautifully, as she holds her hands out to you, “I’m so glad you are here.”

“Your Highness flatters me.” You go to her, smiling as you take her hands in your own before releasing them to gesture to the ornately carved tea table in the corner, “Afternoon tea?”

“Yes, we have much to discuss.” Princess Min stands up and elegantly makes her way to the table, you follow obediently behind her. Once you are both seated, Princess Min gestures for a servant to pour tea.

“Are you excited for tonight’s banquet?” Princess Min takes a sip of her tea, “I’m so very excited and the banquet isn’t even for me.”

“Of course, tonight is a grand occasion. It deserves to be celebrated properly.” You swallow a sip of tea and look around the beautiful pavilion. “Thank you so much for the hospitality you have shown my sister and I. Your kindness will never be forgotten.”

Princess Min smiles at you and chatters about the drama currently happening in the harem courtyard, Concubine Nam was still holding hope that Emperor Min would choose her as his bride, while the other concubines were furious over her blatant violation of the rules. You listen and chime in when necessary, indulging in Princess Min’s love for gossip.

“What would you do with Concubine Nam and the harem?” Princess Min asks you, her voice curious, “How would you handle this entire scandal?”

“Well,” You ponder over her question for a moment. She had asked you similar questions before, but usually about how you would handle this political issue or that. Never one quite so close to home. You take another sip of tea, deciding how to answer without offending her, “an example would have to be made.”

“What kind of example?” Princess Min tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes swirling with something, “if you had the power, what would you do?”

“If I had the power?” You gesture for a servant to pour you another cup of tea and laugh softly, “If I had the power, my husband would not have a harem at all.”

Princess Min stares at you, her eyes practically glowing, “No harem? A normal man would not agree to your terms.”

You smile, “I will not marry just any man. I will marry a man solely devoted to me.”

The Princess giggles beautifully, “I love your way of thinking.”

“Well,” you giggle along with the princess, “My way of thinking isn’t something that is approved of. Luckily for his majesty, Ara will gladly allow him his harem.”

The princess quiets down and gestures for a servant to place a small, sweet cake on both of your plates. Her smile is sweet, “Tell me…”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head in question and take a small sip of tea.

Princess Min’s voice is light and soft, “when are you going to stop playing ignorant?”

You still completely, your stomach bubbling with dread. You keep your face calm and composed, but your heart is beating rapidly. After a brief silence, you question, “Pardon? Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re a very clever woman, it’s why I like you so much.” Her sweet smile never leaves her face, but her eyes are dark and cold. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“No,” You keep your voice firm, “I do not know what you mean at all.”

Princess Min’s smile widens, but her dark eyes are unsettling, “Did you enjoy Imperial Brother’s latest gift?”

You slowly set your tea cup on the table, “His highness gives the most thoughtful gifts, we are forever in his debt.”

“You know, he chose the pattern and colors himself.”

“About that,” you lick your lips before continuing, “Eunuch Ki gave me the golden dress by mistake.”

“Oh you are good. For someone who claims they have no interest in court or politics, that is. Though you need a little more training before you sit in on a council.” The Princess takes a bite of cake, her eyes flashing, “I don’t recommend playing dumb with me, however.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”

The Princess ignores your remark, “Have you heard of my betrothed? Prince Regent Jung Hoseok. He’s the general of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course,” your mind frantically tries to understand where the connection is, “He has helped the emperor win many battles.”

“Did you know that he was betrothed before?”

You shake your head, but don’t reply. You have no idea what this discussion has to do with the emperor’s gifts, but you didn’t dare interrupt or question her.

“He grew up in the palace here with Imperial Brother and I. My father, the emperor at the time, practically raised him as one of his own. He was Imperial Brother’s companion and also to be his general in war. I had been in love with him since I was very young. He was all I ever wanted.” Princess Min Glances off into the distance, as if she’s reminiscing, “For his outstanding work as the General of the Imperial Army, my father gifted him a marriage to a nobleman’s daughter... Lord Tokko’s only daughter, Yeong.”

Lord Tokko’s name was vaguely familiar to you, you had heard your father mention him a few times. As for his daughter, you had never heard of this woman, but by the tone of Princess Min’s voice and the frown on her face, you know it was someone that the princess did not like.

“The Prince Regent agreed to the marriage, he actually cared for her, thought himself to be in love,” The princess scoffs and takes a small sip of tea, “It was not hard for me to get my father to agree to have Lady Yeong come to the palace to serve as a friend and companion for me.”

“She was one of the kindest, sweetest, young women I had ever met.” The Princess locks eyes with you, “So trusting that even as she lay dying, it never crossed her mind that I was the one that poisoned her.”

You're quiet for several moments, trying to gather your thoughts. Your voice is a little shaky when you finally ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

Princess Min ignores you once again, “We thought the sickness had skipped my brother. It usually only manifests itself in the women in my family, my grandmother had it too, you know?”

“What sickness?” You are growing more alarmed. The Princess was revealing information and secrets that you should not know and you did not understand her reasoning.

Again, Princess Min ignores you, continuing her story as if she were a player on stage and you the enraptured audience, “He never showed any symptoms, not a care in the world for anyone but himself. The closest he came was Concubine Nam, but nothing serious ever happened with her. He would never make her his consort, so I knew she wasn’t the one.”

“Imagine my elation when you finally arrived. You have turned out to be all we hoped for and more.” Princess Min smiles at you beautifully, her dark eyes shining almost manically, “The moment he saw you, your fate was sealed.”

Before today, having Princess Min’s confidence made you feel warm and welcomed. Now you only feel dread.

“I.. I...” You lick your too dry lips and stumble over your words, your composure crumbling in the wake of the Imperial Princess’ confession, “I am to be married to Lord Kim. My father is working out the contracts.”

“Lord Kim?” The princess giggles, “My brother wanted to strip him and his family of their lands and titles, but I was able to talk him back from that.”

“I don’t understand.” You feel cold all over.

“Yes, you do.” The princess gestures and a maid comes forward holding a silver tray, the princess grabs the small bundle of letters and tosses them on the table, “You’re lucky that I was able to intercept these before Imperial Brother read them. If he knew you were writing to another man, he would have Lord Kim beheaded.”

You’re quiet, staring at the letters you wrote to Lord Kim asking after his health. The letters he never received. Too much was going through your mind. What about Ara?

“My father-”

“Your father has already agreed and I was able to have Imperial Brother gift a marriage to Lord Kim.” Princess Min’s voice is pleasant, as if she's discussing the weather, “Your sister will be his bride.”

You stand abruptly from the table, your chair clattering to the floor behind you. You feel shaken and terrified. You knew something was off, but you were hoping, praying, you were wrong.

“Please excuse me, your majesty.” You step back from the table, your eyes slightly glassy, “I need to rest before tonight’s banquet.”

“Please, call me Ji-Soo…,” The princess smiles at you, her dark eyes are filled with what you now recognize as madness, the same look found in the emperor’s eyes when he looks at you,

“..We’re family after all.”

-0-0-0-

When you arrive back at your courtyard, your mind is still struggling to comprehend what is happening. You rush past the servants and lock yourself in your room. You stare at the beautiful golden dress laid out on your bed, the diamonds twinkling as if mocking you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Ara is supposed to be empress.

You slide to the floor, your back against the door. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You stare at the dress, but your mind isn’t focused on it. You’re trying to think, trying to plan. What are you supposed to do? You don’t even entertain the thought that your father will save you. You have no choice. Emperor Min holds all the power.

You don’t realize that hours have passed with you staring blankly at the dress until the servants knock on your door. “My lady, we are here to prepare you for the banquet.”

“I don’t need help to prepare. Please leave me.”

“My lady,” The voice of the maid is trembling, fearful, “The emperor insists.”

You swallow and stand, your legs shaky. You open the door and stare at the servants, they are terrified. Terrified of the emperor, terrified of his displeasure. You realize that you and them are not so different. No one has a choice. Everyone is subject to Emperor Min’s whims.

“Where is Ara?”

“She has already been prepared for the banquet.” Several servants rush in carrying a large washing tub filled with steaming water. The water is fragrant and several flowers are flowing on the surface.

You watch a large dressing screen being set up around the tub, several of the servants bow low to you before quickly leaving the room. You look at them questioningly and an older maid steps forward, “Forgive us, my lady. We are under strict instructions and not allowed to help you undress or bathe.”

“What? Why?”

The maid licks her lips and hangs several white undergarments over the dressing screen, “The emperor made a new decree that it is a crime punishable by death for anyone other than the emperor himself to view the empress consort’s nude body.”

It’s a jarring experience to be referred to as the empress consort.

“It- it is not official.”

You want to scream at them that this is wrong. That you’re not even betrothed, that this isn’t supposed to be you.

They won’t meet your eyes.

The jade bracelet on your wrist slides, warm beads against cool skin, and that’s when you realize all the mistakes you have made. You can’t stop the heavy weight you feel in your chest. You can feel your lips begin to tremble and your eyes feel watery. You don’t want to cry, but you know you should because you have the horrible feeling that once you are announced as the chosen empress consort at the banquet, the emperor will not let you out of his sight.

The maid smooths over any imaginary wrinkles in the undergarments and gives you a pitying look, “Please get dressed in these once you are finished and we will prepare you for the banquet.”

You’re left alone and you robotically remove your dress and undergarments. The water is hot and relaxing and it soothes your frazzled nerves. You lean your head back against the washing tub, you can hear the maids quietly talking behind the dressing screen. Your mind is racing. You are a smart girl. Your father has always praised your brilliance and forward thinking and lamented over you not being born a boy. You could figure this out. You could find a way out.

There is obviously something seriously wrong with the Imperial siblings. The Princess herself confessed to murdering a love rival and the emperor has never shown any sign of this alleged sickness until now. Concubine Nam is carrying his child. You’ve already told Princess Min about your distaste of the harem. You refuse to have a husband that continues to keep a harem of concubines.

But you know, you know, you could not refuse the emperor’s suit. You did not have any choice in the matter. While this is not the outcome that you nor Ara want, you know that your father will be pleased. All men want is power. They do not care for who they hurt or how they use their children like pawns. Your father will be the father-in-law of the emperor, his position and power will be secured.

The water is cold when you finally decide to step out of the washing tub. You resolve yourself to your future. Being the Empress Consort is not the worst fate you can have, but you were fearful of your sister’s reaction. She will hate you.

You slowly put on your undergarments and step out from behind the screen. The maids eagerly rush you over to the large dressing table and sit you down. You stare at your worn reflection in the large, ornate mirror.

Several maids kneel at your sides, dipping your fingers and toes in a dark paste. Other maids rub scented lotion onto your arms and legs. You watch through your reflection as the older maid rearranges your hair into an intricate updo, her skilled hands working effortlessly.

Your voice is a little hoarse when you speak, but you clear your throat and look at the older maid, “Will you be my personal servant?”

“Of course,” The maid gives you a warm smile, “His highness chose me personally to care for his bride.”

You give her a strained smile in return, neither of you mention the fact that the emperor chose servants that would be loyal to him. It wasn’t uncommon for a bride to bring a handful of trusted servants with them to their new home, but these aren’t normal circumstances. You would truly be alone here. “May I know your name?”

“Unso.”

“Unso.” You say the name carefully, “Please take good care of me.”

“My absolute pleasure.” She beams and gestures to your hair, the golden hairpin shining on top. The hairstyle is extravagant and more beautiful than any you have ever worn. The other maids clean the dark paste off your fingers and toes, revealing the nails to be stained a pretty red. Another servant brings a small jar of white cream and rubs it onto your face. You sit still as makeup is applied to your face. Your lips are painted a dark red and your eyes are lined with kohl. A small, delicate mugunghwa flower is painted in red and black between your eyebrows.

You stand and the maids help you dress in the beautiful golden dress. They take their time making sure everything is perfect. When you are fully dressed, the servants all stand back and stare at their hard work.

“Mistress is the most beautiful!”

“The Emperor has chosen well!”

“Her beauty is unparalleled!”

“An absolute vision!”

“His highness will be most pleased!”

The praises are interrupted by Eunuch Ki. He gives you a once over before nodding to Unso, “Excellent. Make sure everything is prepared as instructed.”

Unso nods her head and steps back.

“My lady,” Eunuch Ki bows low to you, “Please allow me to escort you to the banquet hall.”

You look around nervously, “But Ara-”

“Your sister is already at the banquet.”

“I see.” You nod your head realizing you don’t have a choice, “I would be honored for Eunuch Ki to escort me.”

He gives you another low bow and turns to lead the way out of your rooms. Unso gives you an encouraging smile and you nod your head in return. Eunuch Ki leads you out of your courtyard to an extravagant imperial carriage. From the design and brilliance, you can tell that this is the emperor’s personal carriage.

The ride to the grand banquet hall is quiet. You’re positive that you’re shaking in your seat. Eunuch Ki is watching you, but he doesn’t comment on your nerves. The carriage comes to a stop and the door is opened by an imperial guard. Eunuch Ki steps down first. You follow slowly behind him, all the servants and guards bowing in your presence.

The long walk to the banquet hall seems to last seconds. You can feel sweat beading on your forehead and you are distractedly worried that all the servants' hard work on your face paint will come undone. The closer you get to the hall, the louder the music and laughter from inside becomes. You can hear that it is a grand celebration and you worry for a moment that you are late.

Eunuch Ki stops several feet away from the double doors. He gives you a sad smile and leans close to you, “An empress does not show fear. An empress does not show despair.”

You nod your head in understanding, straighten your back and hold your head high. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest; the expectations of the kingdom weighing on your shoulders. You can feel the sinking feeling in your stomach that Ara will never forgive you. You desperately hope she can understand.

You do not have a choice.

“Please open the doors.”

The large golden doors are heavy, requiring several servants to push them open. A loud chime is heard from the inside of the room. Eunuch Ki steps forward and announces your arrival, but you cannot hear him over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears.

You step forward and you can feel all eyes are on you, but the only eyes you can focus on are the emperor’s. Dark, calculating, mad. He’s not dressed in his customary black, but gold. His ceremonial robes are a bright gold patterned with black mandarin ducks, matching yours. His long hair is unbound, a glittering crown is placed upon his brow. He is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. You take several slow steps into the room and make your way towards the emperor. Before you reach him, Princess Min steps forward, a handsome man you recognize as Prince Regent Jung Hoseok at her side. The couple is dressed in matching colors. Royal blue and patterned with silver bats. Princess Min leans close to you and kisses both your cheeks. She pauses to whisper a quiet, “Good Girl,” that only you can hear. Prince Regent Jung gives you a low bow.

You bow in return to the Princess and her betrothed. The room is still deathly quiet. When you finally reach the emperor, he stares at you as if you are the only thing he has ever wanted. You prepare to bow, but Emperor Min stops you, “From this moment forward, you bow to no one.”

You swallow and nod your head. Emperor Min continues staring at you, his eyes swirling with equal parts happiness and madness. Eunuch Ki steps forward holding a golden goblet. You stare at the goblet and then look at the emperor in horror. This isn’t right. You realize quickly that this is no ordinary celebration banquet.

This is a wedding.

You quickly look away, desperately searching for Ara. Slim fingers grip your chin tightly, you can feel the cold metal of his rings pressing into your skin. Your face is turned back to the Emperor.

“Who is the king?” His voice is quiet, but firm, “Who is the boss?”

You stare into his cold eyes. He knows he has you trapped and he knows there is nothing you can do. While you want to believe that you had reconciled yourself with your fate, you had truly hoped that you had more time to find a way out. But there is no way out.

After a few moments, you nod your head in understanding and open your mouth to accept a drink from the goblet. Emperor Min takes the goblet from Eunuch Ki and holds it to your lips. His smile is gentle, but his eyes are filled with triumph as you drink.

The rice wine is sweet but you barely taste it. You swallow a large gulp and lick your lips. The emperor’s eyes darken as he watches you and his smile widens. He gently places the goblet into your hands and you carefully hold it up to his lips. He takes several large gulps, but never breaks eye contact with you.

Eunuch Ki grabs the goblet from you and before you know what is happening, you’re in the emperor’s embrace. One of his hands cup the back of your head as the other holds you tightly by the waist, “Finally, you’re mine.”

His kiss catches you off guard and you close your eyes involuntarily. You know that kissing is improper for a wedding ceremony and should only be done in private, but no one would dare question the emperor. His lips are soft and taste of the rice wine you just drank. When his tongue gently coaxes your lips open, you do not resist. Your fingers grip his shoulders and you cannot stop yourself from melting into him.

When he finally releases you, you steady yourself against him. You’re in a daze as the emperor leads you to the royal table. You stand quietly at his side as he raises a glass of wine in a toast, “To my new bride, your new empress!”

The hall is filled with thunderous applause and cheering. Your moves are robotic as the emperor instructs you to sit next to him. He fills your plate with all your favorite delicacies and pours you a cup of tea. The musicians start playing music again and the murmur of conversations start up around you. You glance around the hall and realize that all the eligible young ladies that were prospective consorts are wearing matching dresses. Light blue and patterned with butterflies. The same dress that Ara was gifted.

You look around for Ara and you find her seated between your father and Lord Kim. Your father and Lord Kim seem to be in a serious conversation. Ara looks calm and composed, but her eyes betray her. You can see her unhappiness and your heart aches.

“Beloved,” You’re jolted by the emperor’s deep, somber voice, “Don’t worry about your sister. She will be taken care of. Lord Kim will make her happy.”

It takes you a moment to respond, but you do so quietly, “My sister’s only happiness will always be with the emperor.”

The emperor glances in the direction of your sister and then turns back to you, his smile is sweet, “You are a good sister, but it’s time you put your happiness first.”

You’re puzzled, “My happiness?”

“Your happiness.” Emperor Min kisses your lips softly, “To be my bride. To be my queen. To be mine.”

You stare at him incredulously, and realize he truly believes that you are happy being his bride. He really thinks you wanted this and were only holding yourself back for Ara’s sake. Princess Min gives you a knowing smile from across the table. You sit in a daze as the night progresses. The emperor would let no other serve you, but himself, constantly refilling your plate and cup.

You can feel the angry glare of Concubine Nam on you from across the hall and when you finally meet her gaze, you're startled to realize that she’s also wearing the same light blue dress, patterned with silver butterflies, that Ara was gifted. In fact, all the concubines are dressed this way.

Concubine Nam’s face is fuller and glowing beautifully. Her soft, demure persona would be more believable if her eyes weren’t filled with hatred. You’re secretly pleased that her plan to trap the emperor has failed. If she was smart, she would try to gain favor with you, but instead she will most likely plot to poison you. You give her a small nod of acknowledgement and she sneers in return before turning away.

The night drags on and you're exhausted from trying to keep a happy facade. You catch your shoulders drooping more often than not, and even feel yourself lean against the emperor a time or two.

When it is finally time to receive congratulations from the representatives from the noble families, you stay quiet at the emperor’s side. You smile when needed and murmur thanks when prompted. Everything feels unreal.

When your family steps forward, you try to catch Ara’s eyes. She nods her head at Princess Min and bows low to you, “Your highness, many happy wishes on your marriage. May the gods bless you with healthy sons.”

Her voice is cold and you can see the hatred in her eyes. You grab her hand, “Ara please, you must understand.”

“Understand that my sister is a liar?” Ara raises her voice and pulls away from you, “Understand that she is a snake who planned this?!”

“Ara, no.” Your voice cracks and you can feel tears brimming in your eyes, your exhaustion and stress finally catching up to you, “You are my most beloved sister. I would never-”

“And yet, here you are.” Ara’s voice is mocking, “Empress.”

The scene your sister is making draws the attention of your father and Emperor Min, who were in the middle of a quiet conversation near you. Even Princess Min is frowning from where she is seated, obviously hearing the raise of Ara’s voice.

“Enough.” The emperor’s voice is cold as he glares furiously at Ara, “You dare to show disrespect to your empress?”

“She tricked you! Can’t you see she tricked you?!” Ara ignores the dangerous aura surrounding Emperor Min, “It was supposed to be me! I am supposed to be your queen. I love y-”

“Guards. Detain her. Disrespect to the empress is punishable by death.”

You can see the fear on Ara’s face, she backs away quickly, but the guards grab her. Your father looks alarmed and even Lord Kim looks fearful for your sister’s life. You look at the emperor and grip his arm tightly, “Please, please do not punish her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“She dared to disrespect you. She doesn’t deserve to live.”

“Please,” You beg him, you look at Ara’s fearful face and close your eyes in dismay, you know she will hate you even more after this. You firm your resolve and open your eyes, “She’s only a child.”

You press yourself against the emperor, “She’s harmless. She knows that what we have is real. She knows that you love me. She’s only jealous.”

The emperor’s eyes soften as he stares at you. “And you? Do you love me?”

You glance at your sister, an apology in your eyes, before wrapping your arms around Emperor Min, “I love you. Only you.”

He kisses you deeply and waves away the guards. Once he breaks the kiss, you feel yourself sag against him in relief as Ara is released and your father ushers her away. You can feel Lord Kim staring at you and when you finally meet his gaze, you're taken aback by the devastation in his eyes.

His eyes flicker between you and the emperor before he turns around and follows after your father. You stare after him but the emperor blocks your view. You look up and meet his eyes.

“Your eyes are only meant for me. No one else.”

You nod your head, but don’t say a word. Emperor Min continues to stare at you for a moment longer, before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Eunuch Ki.”

Eunuch Ki suddenly appears at the Emperor’s side ready and willing to do whatever is asked of him and gives a low bow, “Your majesty.”

“Take my bride to rest.”

“At once, your grace.” Eunuch Ki gestures for you to follow him and you do so without another word. Once the heavy golden doors close behind you, you finally let the tears fall from your eyes. You cry silently on the long carriage ride back to the other side of the palace. Eunuch Ki looks uncomfortable and like he wishes to offer words of comfort, but has no idea what to say.

You go to rub your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, but Eunuch Ki stops you and hands you a soft cloth, “Forgive me your highness, but your dress must be preserved for the royal archives, you must not dirty it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You give a sad hiccup laugh and look out the carriage window. You realize quickly that you are not headed to the Mugunghwa Courtyard, but to the Emperor’s private courtyard.

“I thought the Emperor wanted me to rest.”

Eunuch Ki gives you a look, but doesn’t respond. When the carriage rolls to a stop, Unso is there to help you down from the carriage. If she sees the distress on your face, she doesn’t comment on it. She gives you a low bow and leads you into the Emperor’s lair.

His private courtyard and rooms are enormous. Everything is draped in silks of black and gold. When you finally reach the Emperor’s private chambers, you’re astounded. His bedroom has the largest canopy bed you have ever seen, covered in a mountain of pillows. There is a large wooden desk in one corner of the room surrounded with several shelves filled with scrolls. There’s two separate golden resting sofas, each larger than you have ever seen and even a large dressing table with a mirror, obviously for a woman to use. There are also large double doors leading out to a small, private hot spring.

You watch Unso bustle around the room, preparing things and beckoning you over to the dressing table. “Your highness, let me help you remove your makeup.”

You sit quietly at the table and let Unso gently wash your face. You watch her put a special cream under your eyes to bring down the puffiness from your tears. She takes her time undoing your hair and leaving it unbound. You meet her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, “How many women has he bedded here?”

She looks puzzled at your question, “His majesty has never brought any woman here.”

“Concubine Nam?”

“Never.” Unso’s voice is resolute, “His majesty has never brought any woman, harem or no, here. These are his private chambers.”

“I see.” You don’t know if she’s lying to you, but if she is, you appreciate it. You feel slightly better knowing you are the only woman to ever sleep in his chambers.

Unso opens a chest and pulls out a black silk robe embroidered with red mugunghwa flowers and lays it over the top of the dressing screen in the corner of the room, “Your highness, you should remove your clothes and put this on. I’ll make you some tea and then you can lay down and rest.”

You slowly make your way behind the dressing screen and painstakingly remove your wedding dress. You leave it in a heap on the floor along with your undergarments. You know there is no point in wearing them and while you are nervous and a little scared, you know the consummation is inevitable.

You put the silk robe on, and gently tie the sash around your waist. When you step around the dressing screen, Unso has already prepared the bed by removing many of the pillows and replacing the black silk sheets with a soft, white one. The white sheet shines ominously in the low light of the lanterns.

“Your highness, have some tea to soothe your nerves.” Unso has brewed some fresh tea, but the scent is different than any you have had before. You sit stiffly on the edge of the newly made bed and take a small sip of tea. The taste is slightly bitter, but soon you feel yourself relaxing.

“What type of tea is this?” You ask as Unso refills your cup and urges you to drink more.

She pats your head and gives you a warm smile, “Don’t worry. It was requested by his highness to help improve your health.”

You nod and don’t question her. You assume it’s similar to what the harem drinks to prevent pregnancy. The emperor is still young and with the drama that Concubine Nam has caused, you doubt children were on his mind. Before you know it, you’ve finished the entire pot.

Unso helps tuck you in bed, and turns down all the lanterns. The only light in the room is that from the moonlight seeping in through the heavy curtains. You can barely keep your eyes open and the last thing you hear before you drift asleep is Unso’s quiet words, “Rest well, your majesty. You will need it.”

-0-0-0-

You’re awoken by a soft noise. You sit up and look around but don’t notice anything out of place. You’re still alone in the emperor’s bed. You see a faint glow under a previously unnoticed door in the far corner near his large desk.

You get out of bed and make your way to the door. It opens soundlessly and a large staircase is revealed. You slowly make your way up the staircase, being careful not to make a sound. At the top of the staircase is a large room. It looks like an artist’s studio. Numerous canvases line the walls, charcoals and paints scattered over several large wooden tables stationed through the room.

You see half finished portraits of Princess Min and a few of the previous emperors. You step into the room, careful not to disturb the artwork. There are some more paintings of several gardens and fountains that inhabit the palace grounds. In the corner of the room there is a beautiful hand carved desk, slightly smaller than the large tables, covered with more artwork. When you get closer you realize the paintings and sketches are all of you. You in the dress you wore the first night you arrived, you smiling in Princess Min’s private pavilion, you taking a walk in one of the private gardens, you asleep in your private rooms. Hundreds of paintings and drawings of you.

You see another canvas underneath, it's slightly worn with frayed edges as if it’s been touched frequently. When you pull it out you see it's a painting of you, but this one you recognize. Two summers ago your father had you and your sister sit for a family portrait. The artist was impeccable and it was one of the most accurate paintings you had ever seen of yourself, it was almost like looking in the mirror. You see that the painting is torn, your sister and father removed from the portrait.

“You’ve found my sanctuary.”

You startle at the emperor’s voice and drop the canvas as if you’ve been burned. He’s standing at the entrance of the room, he’s no longer dressed in the golden robe, but now his signature black. It’s tied loosely, so the smooth pale skin of his chest is visible. His blond hair is loose and his crown is gone.

“You’re quite the artist.” You gesture around the room, “but I notice there is no artwork of your concubines, of your beloved Concubine Nam.”

The emperor glances around, taking in his artwork as he steps further into the room, “Are you jealous of In-Suk?”

You frown at the use of her first name, but do not deny his accusation, “I do not like the thought of my husband bedding other women.”

“There are no other women.” Emperor Min slowly makes his way over to you, “You’re the only one that matters.”

You glance back at the desk littered with portraits of you, your eyes stopping on the torn family portrait, “How long have I been the only one that matters?”

He smiles, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” You keep your voice calm and composed, “It matters to me.”

Emperor Min stands close to you, his fingers trailing over the artwork on the desk, “I had no interest in marriage. Lords and other noblemen constantly throwing their daughters at me. Your father is no different. Going on and on about Ara and how wonderful and virtuous she is.” He smiles wryly, “I finally got him to shut up by feigning interest.”

The emperor gently picks up the torn family portrait, “Imagine my surprise when he brings me this. A beautiful family portrait. I ask him about you and he immediately tells me about what a beautiful and doting older sister you are to Ara. How ever since your mother died, you have helped raise her. How you love her more than anything.”

He sets the portrait down and grabs your hands, gently turning you to face him, “I knew then that you would sacrifice everything for your beloved sister. I also knew that I needed to get you into the palace. Once you were here, you could not deny me.”

“But I was supposed to marry Lord-”

“Never say his name again.” Emperor’s Min’s voice is hard, leaving no room for discussion, “I am your husband. He is nothing.”

“Of course,” Your voice is quiet, you hesitate for a moment before you continue your questioning, “But… but Princess Min set up the consort selection. She told me she had to practically beg you to agree.”

“My beloved wife.” Emperor Min cups your face affectionately, his previous sour mood at the mention of Lord Kim completely gone, “You’re too trusting. She poisoned her companion, do you really think she would not lie to help her brother?”

“But Ara-”

“Ara will forgive you.” He presses a soft kiss against your lips, “Or she won’t. It does not matter.”

“But-”

“Is it really so bad being Empress?” Emperor Min presses another kiss to your lips, his fingers tangle in your unbound hair, “Being Mother to the country?”

“No-no, I am grateful to your majesty.” You shiver at his touch, grasping his shoulders as he presses himself against you.

“Yoongi.” He places more kisses down your lips and chin, “Call me Yoongi.”

“Yoongi!” You gasp when he softly bites your neck.

You feel him reach behind you and push everything off the large desk, the sound of canvases and painting supplies hitting the floor echoes throughout the room. Yoongi picks you up and sits you on the large desk, his lips never leaving your skin.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His mouth is muffled by the skin of your neck, his lips and tongue trail lower. You feel hot all over and cannot help but shiver when his hand yanks the collar of your robe down your shoulder. “My beautiful queen.”

Your fingers clutch at the silk fabric of his robe, holding him closer to you. You don’t stop him when he undoes your robe, his hot fingers trailing down the skin of your abdomen. “Beloved, will you show me?”

You wordlessly lean back, letting the open robe slip down your arms, baring your nude body to his view. His eyes are burning as he drinks you in. “Absolutely Exquisite.”

Yoongi leans over you, pressing himself between your thighs, and kisses you deeply. His tongue licks into your mouth with desperation. His hands are shaking as he grips your hips, and you quickly free yourself from the sleeves of your robe.

He breaks the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck and chest, his hot tongue swirls around your exposed breast before suckling the nipple. You can’t stop your moan, your whole body jerks at the feeling. “Y-Yoongi!”

“Say it again.” Yoongi’s voice is filled with desperation as he kisses down your ribs, “Say my name again.”

“Yoongi.” You whisper and your stomach clenches when he kisses lower, his wet tongue trailing over your abdomen. You’re so aroused, you can feel your wetness coating your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.

“I have never seen a more beautiful woman.” Yoongi presses a soft kiss below your belly button, “The country has never had a more beautiful empress.”

“Your highness flatters me.”

“No.” Yoongi’s firm voice startles you and when you meet his eyes, they are burning with madness, “This emperor loves you. Only you.”

You shiver at the look in his eyes and nod your head in return, “Yes. Of course.”

Yoongi presses another kiss to your abdomen, his large hands gripping your thighs as he stares at you, “Will you deny your king?”

“Never.”

The smile he gives you is equal parts beautiful and dangerous, his dark, dark eyes overflowing with adoration for you, “Good girl.”

Your breath catches when he spreads your thighs apart and leans forward, his mouth inches away from your wet, pulsing cunt. “I wonder if you taste as succulent as you smell.”

You feel your pussy throb at his words and you lean your head back against the desk, your eyes closing in anticipation. You find his crude words more arousing than you ever thought possible. Your heart is beating so fast and you can feel sweat beading on your forehead. While you have never been intimate with a man, you were no stranger to self pleasure. You just never imagined your first experience with a man would be the emperor of the entire nation between your thighs, waiting to pleasure you. The heady rush of excitement is making you dizzy.

You tense when Yoongi presses the flat of his tongue against your juicy pussy. His tongue is hot as it licks a slow stripe up to your clit and you both release a throaty groan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you get light headed from lack of oxygen. You're shivering all over and you feel a tight pressure in your stomach. Your entire body is tuned to Yoongi’s mouth, every lick and suck of his tongue has you soaring.

“Better.” He whispers between licks of your swollen clit, his fingers shaking as he holds your thighs apart, “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever had before.”

You press your hand into your mouth to bite down on, trying to muffle your moans. Your other hand scrambles for something to hold onto before tangling in his long, soft hair.

You press your heel into his back, but if Yoongi is bothered, he does not show it. He’s completely focused on devouring you. You bite your hand hard to cover your squeal when his hot fingers gently probe your cunt. He reaches up to pull your hand out of your mouth, his fingers gently stroking your wrist around the jade bracelet, “Do not dare hide your pleasure from me.”

He places your hand on his head, near your other hand already grasping his hair, and encourages you to use him as you please. A long, thick finger slips inside you and you cannot stop yourself from clamping down, your hips automatically rolling up into his face.

“That’s it, my beautiful girl,” Yoongi continues to flick your clit with his tongue, “Ride my face.”

Your fingers grasp his head, holding his mouth against your aching cunt. You’re throbbing and dripping and you know you are going to come soon. You can feel the release building deep inside you. Yoongi presses another finger into your dripping hole and you can feel yourself trembling. He’s completely focused on you and your pleasure, his mouth working nonstop to help you reach your peak.

You sit up slightly and meet his dark gaze, his eyes are brimming with satisfaction. You grip his hair hard and press his face against your dripping cunt. You’re so close you’re practically vibrating with pleasure.

He twists his fingers and you're coming. You release a soundless gasp and can’t stop yourself from gushing all over his fingers. Yoongi moans at the taste of you, his mouth eagerly trying to swallow every drop of your release. You collapse on the desk, your orgasm still thrumming through your body.

You barely catch your breath when he’s hovering over you, your release glistening on his lips and chin. He kisses you deeply, making sure you can taste yourself on his tongue. You can feel his body trembling as he undoes his robe and you cannot figure out if he’s nervous or excited, or a combination of both.

He breaks the kiss to look at you and your stomach flutters at his gaze, so full of yearning and affection, you’re no longer sure why you ever thought about denying him. You hadn't even realized something was missing from your life, he was missing from your life, until this moment. You weren't just doing this out of a sense of duty. Because you were his wife. Because he was your husband. You wanted this. Desperately. More than you’d wanted anything up until this moment.

Full of your realization, you push his robe off his shoulders and spread your legs wider, allowing him to press himself completely against you. He’s hot and hard, pulsing between your thighs. You shiver at the feel of him, your sticky cunt still dripping from your orgasm. You look at him, his cheeks flushed pink, his forehead and chest slightly sweaty, his hair a tangled mess. His scar looks less intimidating in the low light of the lanterns.

“You love me?” You don’t realize you have said the words out loud until he stares at you, his dark, dark eyes burning.

“More than anything.”

It’s intoxicating knowing you have this beautiful man confessing his love to you. He is the most powerful man in the entire world and he loves you more than anything. You can’t help the ugly feelings of jealousy bubbling in your stomach, knowing other women have seen him undone like this. Knowing that Concubine Nam has had him like this is unacceptable.

“I want them gone.” You shift forward slightly, the head of his thick cock catching on your entrance. You feel so hot between your legs, your cunt aching to be spread open by him.

“Who?” He sounds confused, distracted. His whole body is trembling, holding himself back from thrusting up into you.

“Your whores.” You roll your hips and feel him sink a few inches inside you, you hold your breath and try not to tense up at the intrusion. “I will not have a husband that has a harem. I want them all gone, especially that bitch Nam. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this.”

“Yes,” You feel more than hear him gasp, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, “Anything you want.

“You’re mine.”

Your whispered declaration causes something inside of him to snap. You’re unprepared when he pushes completely inside of you. The burning stretch of his thick, heavy cock leaves your breathless. He groans into your chest, barely giving you a moment to adjust before he’s thrusting in and out. Every roll of his hips has you clenching around him. His lips press soft kisses into your skin between pants of yesyesyes and all yours. You’re soaked and shaking, your fingers clutch his shoulders, trying to anchor him against you. He’s so thick and so large, you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“My Empress, My Goddess,” Yoongi whispers reverently into your skin, “I will give you everything.”

“Yes,” You press yourself closer to him, ignoring the feel of his ringed fingers bruising your hips, “All I want is you.”

Every thrust of his hips brings you closer to the edge. You’re quivering around him, so close you can almost taste it. You shudder when he releases your hip, his fingers gently rubbing your swollen clit, causing you to pulse around him. “That’s it, my beloved girl. Come for me.”

Yoongi softly pinches your clit and you explode. His tongue licks up your throat, his mouth swallowing your quiet cries of pleasure. You clench down and feel him gasp against you, his body shuddering uncontrollably. The pulse of his cock inside you floods you with warmth.

You close your eyes and hold him against you, trying to catch your breath. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You slowly run your fingers through his hair and smile when you realize he’s still buried inside you.

He sits up and stares at you. You can see your reflection in his dark eyes. Your hair is disheveled and your lips are swollen. You can see your eyes are hazy with pleasure and several love bites adorn your neck and shoulders.

“My beloved bride.” Yoongi smiles at you affectionately, his fingers gently brush your hair back from your sweaty forehead, “I will never let you go.”

-0-0-0-

When you awaken you’re alone in the emperor’s bed, his side is cool, as if he’s been gone for hours. You’re sore all over, your husband spent most of the night inside of you, making you come over and over again until the early morning light.

You wrap the wrinkled white sheet around you and stand on shaky legs. You slowly make your way to the door and call for Unso. She appears immediately, almost as if she was waiting for you.

She helps you sit at the dressing table and goes about opening the curtains. Based on the sunlight entering the room, you can tell it is already early afternoon. Several maids clear the used bedding from the bed, and replace the sheets with clean silk ones.

“Where is the emperor?”

“His majesty wanted his bride to get enough rest, he would not let anyone disturb your highness.” Unso ignores your question and pulls a black dress patterned with golden dragons from the wardrobe. She hangs it over the silk dressing screen along with several undergarments.

You watch her through the mirror as she orders servants to prepare bath water for you. You can tell that something is amiss by the way Unso will not meet your eyes and the maids scurry about as if they are terrified of you.

“Your highness,” A younger maid bows low and holds out a fresh cup of tea, “your tea?”

You take the cup from the trembling maid, it’s the same bitter tea from the night before. You take a small sip, “Unso, where is my husband?”

“Your majesty, you must drink your tea, it is good for your health.” Unso comes out from behind the dressing screen, “Come take your bath, it will soothe your sore muscles.”

“No,” You set the mostly full cup of tea on the dressing table and stand up, “Bring me my robe.”

“Your majesty, you cannot go out in only your robe!” Unso’s voice is shocked. “It is improper!”

“Fine,” You make your way behind the dressing screen and put on your undergarments, “You will help me dress and then you will take me to my husband.”

Unso and several maids help you put on the stunning black dress. You’re ushered to the dressing table where you are adorned in diamond jewelry. Unso styles your hair with a jeweled dragon hairpin. Lotions and creams are rubbed into your face, neck and arms.

Once you are deemed presentable, you follow Unso and several servant girls to the throne room. When you reach the large doors, Eunuch Ki looks alarmed to see you and quickly bows low, “Y-your highness! What are you doing here?”

“Eunuch Ki,” You nod your head in greeting, “I came to see my husband.”

“I see,” Eunuch Ki shares an undecipherable look with Unso, “His majesty is conducting important business, he has asked me to inform you that he will join you in his rooms later for the evening meal.”

“Open the doors.”

“Please your majesty, you need to rest.” Eunuch Ki tries to placate you, “Let me take you back to the emperor’s courtyard or even to see Princess Min.”

“Open the doors. Now.”

Eunuch Ki looks helplessly at Unso before nodding his head. The guards slowly push the heavy doors open.

The smell is the first thing that hits you. The thick coppery scent of blood. You slowly step into the room and gasp in horror. The floors and walls are covered in blood. It looks like an entire massacre took place here. You walk further into the room and ignore the way the blood soaks into your silk slippers, seeping between your toes.

Eunuch Ki follows quietly behind you. There are several servants scrubbing the floors and walls, trying to remove the pools of blood around the room. You ignore them all, your eyes are completely focused on the emperor. He’s staring at a small golden box in his hand. A bloody sword rests near his feet.

“Yoongi.” You whisper the words quietly, but his head snaps up immediately, his eyes focusing on you.

“Beloved.” His eyes light up when he sees you, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. He rushes eagerly towards you. You realize he’s wearing a black robe, patterned with golden dragons, the same design as your dress. The only difference is his robe is stained with fresh blood. His hair is pulled up into a topknot, his black headband in place. Small drops of blood stain his cheeks and neck. He presses the golden box into Eunuch Ki’s hands before cupping your face, his fingers still wet with blood.

“My beautiful bride,” His voice is light, happy, “everything is perfect now that you are here.”

“Perfect?” You whisper and let him take your hands, leading you towards his throne. The golden dragon throne looks intimidating in the blood soaked room. The closer you get to the throne, the stronger the scent of blood becomes. You feel light headed, your stomach churning at the smells permeating the air.

“I.. I need to sit down.”

Yoongi looks at you concerned and immediately has you sit on his throne, “Are you alright, my love? Do you need some tea?”

“No,” You sit quietly. You feel sick, you feel sweaty, you can barely catch your breath, “I just need a moment.”

You close your eyes trying to center yourself. You know something terrible happened here, there is so much blood it looks like a battlefield. You're grateful that the bodies have already been removed, you don't know how you would have handled a room full of corpses. You take a few deep breaths and open your eyes, meeting Yoongi's bright gaze.

“I have a gift for you.” Yoongi takes the golden box from Eunuch Ki, “I wanted to surprise you with it this evening, but you are here now. My beautiful girl.”

You stare at the golden box stained with blood. You take it from Yoongi with trembling hands. Yoongi is vibrating with excitement next to you. You can feel the pressure behind your eyes signaling that you are about to cry. You blink repeatedly, holding back your tears.

You slowly open the box and stare at the contents. Yoongi holds your hands around the golden box, making sure you can’t drop it. You swallow the scream bubbling in your throat and meet his eyes. Dark, crazed, unhinged eyes overflowing with love for you. Love and madness.

You look back at your gift. Dead, lifeless eyes stare back at you. Concubine Nam’s eyes. Yoongi kneels obediently at your feet, soaking his robe in more blood. Blood from Concubine Nam. Blood from the rest of the harem.

You can’t stop the tears from dripping down your cheeks.

“They are all gone. Just like you asked.” Yoongi stares at you with reverence, his eyes sparkling, “I told you I would do anything for you.”

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga x reader #yandere!yoongi x reader #emperor!yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #yandere!yoongi #emperor!yoongi #yandere!bts #bts smut #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts suga #bts #reader insert

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neoculturetravesty · 4 years

Text

Friday evening

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader Genre: smut, pwp, romance, established relationship Warnings: 18+, oral (male receiving), protected sex, reader is a slight party girl with a bit of an innocence kink, riding, swallowing. Taeyong is sad because he’s been put on a break with an injured back and somehow seeing him this vulnerable is turning you on. Word Count: 4739

Summary: Taeyong has always, always put your pleasure first. It’s not that he does it out of learned, respectful responsibility; it’s because he needs to put your pleasure first or he would go crazy. So the poor boy doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he’s out of commission with an injured back and you’re the one that’s, erm, taking care of him.

A/N: Basically just pure filth and also my first attempt at smut. I also don’t have a proofreader, so pardon my oversights. Here goes nothing.

To say that your Friday evenings have changed a lot over the years would be an understatement. When you were younger, all you wanted to do at the end of a tough week was to get out and drink to your heart’s content. You’d stay out all night, sometimes even passing out in places that were most definitely not home. You had staked your claim in every club the city had to offer; you had never met a drink you didn’t like; there had never been a party you weren’t invited to.

So the fact that you were here now--splayed out over your couch with your boyfriend draped over you, his head resting on your belly while you lazily watched Netflix--was quite frankly absurd. If your other friends saw you here, choosing to stay in on a Friday night, they would think you were going through some kind of crisis. But you weren’t going through a crisis. You were just in love.

You were in love with a boy who was so incredibly, sweetly, and disgustingly domestic, you had no choice but to be soft for him. It came as a surprise to you at first--the fact that he was as domestic as he was. When you had first met him and found out who he was, you were convinced that he had to be, quite frankly, the fuckboy type. Taeyong was incredibly handsome, for starters, but also people would tell him he was handsome, and he got told this multiple times a day. Add to that the nature of his job, and girls, boys and everyone in between would throw themselves at him. You had met him through work while he had his idol and leader persona on. He was intense, he was charismatic, he worked the room like he owned it. So of course, you had thought, he had to be a fuckboy. It’s what made you approach him in the first place.

But on your first date, he cooked for you, couldn’t meet your eyes the entire time, and blushed and giggled every time you complimented his food; and all your assumptions were put to rest. You soon discovered that the poor boy didn’t know much outside of his work. The confidence, the charisma, the strength in his posture--it was all for the cameras. When the lights were off, you found that he was completely the opposite. What threw you off most of all was how sweet he was and how incredibly pure he was. He had had girlfriends before, that much he admitted, yet you had a way of knowing that he was way more innocent than he led on.

You didn’t think you were the kind that would be into that sort of thing--the pure, good boy types. But you found yourself drawn to him and it surprised you. You were so used to flings with fuckboys where the both of you knew you were in it for a good time, not a long time. Maybe a part of you finally wanted the long time though you didn’t know it yet.

So when Taeyong had taken your hand one day and asked you to be his girlfriend, you had found yourself at a loss for words. He had looked at you with such hopeful sincerity in his doe eyes that it had almost frightened you. No one had ever looked at you like that. You had never been anyone’s girlfriend before. So you had answered “I guess...?” which was perhaps not the smartest response, but now you were glad you’d been dumb. Because it led you here, almost a year later with the boy you loved cuddling into your belly on the couch.

The two of you had been laying like this all afternoon and had gone through too many episodes of Money Heist without moving. But moments like these were so rare with Taeyong’s schedule and your own work that you dare not move an inch. You kept hugging onto the empty popcorn bowl while Taeyong lazily rubbed his hands up and down your sides, his cheek pressing into your tummy, his head almost buried under his favorite black blanket while he looked at the screen. When yet another episode ends, you reach over to stroke his hair “Aren’t you hungry?” you ask.

He shakes his head as he yawns “Nope. Are you? I could cook you something.” He says, lifting his head up to look at you.

“But you’re hurt. I don’t want you to move.” You retort, rubbing the back of his neck. Your poor boyfriend had quite literally worked his back off till it physically gave up. He worked even when it hurt, he worked even when he limped. When he couldn’t move at all, is when he allowed himself a break. That’s what your first fight had been about--you yelling at him that he needs to take it easy and him telling you that you just don’t understand. You had ever since reminded yourself to be more patient with him. Taeyong, you found, was a fixer. He always felt like he needed to be there for his team, for his family, for you, so much so that he would run himself down no matter what it did to him. So the fact that he was here now, forced to take a break, was eating him up from the inside. You could tell.

“I’m tired of staying still.” He whines, buying his face into your tummy. It makes you chuckle and you hold his head closer.

“My poor baby.” You say and suddenly, the urge to take care of him overwhelms you. You look down at him as he hugs your middle, his usually wide shoulders curving in to make him seem smaller. He looked so helpless, so vulnerable and so broken, and that image made heat build in your core. ‘Fuck, I am going to hell.’ you thought as you felt the throb between your legs. It was fucked up, the fact that your boyfriend being helpless and hurt was suddenly turning you on. You start to wonder what was wrong with you. Why did his purity, his good heart, his innocence, and right now, his vulnerability stir something so carnal in you? You were going to hell for sure.

‘He’s hurt, he’s hurt, he’s hurt.’ You tell yourself over and over like a mantra to stop yourself from having sinful, unvirtuous thoughts about him, but you must have been tugging the hair on the back of his head a bit too tight because he suddenly looks up at you. Like he could feel the air shift. He holds your gaze as he gently pushes the hem of your shirt up, just enough to reveal a sliver of belly and lands a tender kiss on the exposed skin. His big, warm hands delicately reach into your sides under your shirt and he bows his head and kisses your skin like worship. You look down at him with wonder as you hold his head like you were guiding him, and he was all too eager to be led. This boy had always been a giver. He knew right away that you wanted him and his first instinct had been to take care of you. You allow yourself to be venerated by his lips like that for a moment, melting back into the cushions as his kisses leave a trail till he licks a stripe just below your navel, drawing a moan out of you, somehow bringing you back to your senses. Only a little.

“Taeyong, you’re hurt.” you remind him, but it’s a weak reminder. You’re saying it just to say it because your body is brazen. He must have felt the insincerity in your tone because he doesn’t stop. His long, dexterous fingers move to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them and landing a kiss right on your pubic bone, over the thin fabric of your underwear. You inhale as you feel goosebumps prickling your skin from pleasure and for a moment, you think it’s okay to be this selfish. It’s okay to have your pure, guileless, obliging boyfriend worship your body even though he was hurt because the things he was doing to you… it would be more wrong of you to stop this reverence of unbounded desire. You were going to hell anyway, might as well be with an angel between your legs.

But Taeyong hooks his index finger in the band of your underwear and pulls it down, lifting himself up to place another kiss when you hear him gasp “Ahh!” and it serves as a cruel, literal eye opener. Because your eyes actually snap open and the haze of sinful bliss surrounding you dissipates and you realize just how selfish you’re being.

“Taeyong!” You sit up abruptly, watching the grimace on his face. You get off the couch and kneel next to him as he buries his face in the cushions, groaning. “Does it hurt a lot?” You ask, placing a gentle hand to his back, not daring to apply any amount of pressure. You lean in and press a kiss on his hurt.

Presumably, when the sting has subsided, he looks at you again and says “No, no… it doesn’t hurt… come back here.” He reaches a hand to the back of your head and pulls you in but it’s breaking your heart. You know he wants to make you feel good; he has almost a riotous need to keep you satisfied because that’s what keeps him going, that’s what validates him. The fact that he can’t would eat him up till he spirals and loses his mind. ‘Wouldn’t that be nice.’ The evil part of you thinks as the image of a more vulnerable Taeyong, a more broken Taeyong takes over your mind and you feel the needy heat build even greater under the undone fly of your pants. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You think to yourself in horror as this salacious, immoral image and what it has done to your core actually puts you to shame. Internally, you’re burying your face in your hands just like Taeyong was burying his face in the cushions.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. For once, you had to put a leash on your libido. Your boyfriend was hurt and you needed to be a good girlfriend. “We can do this when you’re better.” You say, rubbing your palm on his back, then stroking his head.

“But I want you now. Don’t you want me?” He asks with such uncertainty and you can tell he’s being the wicked one now because he knows what this tone does to you. Especially when he looks at you with eyes that drip honey. He knows he has you wrapped around his little finger in this moment because he keeps pouting. Taeyong would always have you putty in his beautiful hands and talented tongue. He loved making you feel good, he got off on making you feel good. You had pretty much been living your best life since you met him because you were finally with a man that cared more about your pleasure than his own. So of course, you wanted him. But not like this.

“Come here.” You say to him gently, arranging the pillows around him and helping him flip over on his back so he was much more stable. Taeyong sighs, defeated in his expression, thinking he has lost this battle when you place a hand on his chest and lean over him to kiss him on the lips. You kneel by the side of the couch, hovering over him as he lays, cupping his face in your palms. Soon your fingers find their way to the base of his neck and you’re tugging at his hair again. You roll your tongue against his lips and into his willing mouth, kissing him with desire. He lays obediently as you pull back but looks at you in confusion, like he’s not sure if you’re giving up or giving in. You kiss into the crook of his neck, gently suckling on his sweet skin there and he moans out. You smile because you don’t have to look to know that his cock has twitched in his pants.

You lean over his face, bringing the pad of your thumb to his bottom lip, gently stroking it as you talk “Do you want me?” you ask, your tone low and sultry, wanting to hear his sweet voice before you unleashed yourself on his body. His lips part and he’s panting when he nods his head “I want you.” he sighs in a soft voice. So you get up and carefully place yourself between his legs as he lays, ensuring not to shift the weight on the couch too much that it makes his back uncomfortable. You lift his shirt up just a little bit and kiss the skin of his belly, continuing from where you had left off, except the roles are reversed. But while you were laying back and taking in the sensation, Taeyong is confused; turned on but confused, like he doesn’t know what you’re doing to him.

You meet his befuddled eyes, see him propped up on his elbows to look at you move, almost as if you were doing something perverse, something you weren’t supposed to do. So you give him a wicked smile and undo the button of his fly, just as he had done and press a kiss on top of his boxers. Your hands rub up into his chest “Lay back, sweetie.” You say lovingly as you slowly, teasingly start pulling the band of his boxers down, taking your time with it, putting on a show. Taeyong’s eyes are wide and his belly is pleasurably uneasy. He wasn’t used to this, simply because he never gave you enough time to reciprocate. He liked feeling a strange sense of control that came with the familiarity of being between your legs, giving you enough pleasure that you forgot your own name. He knew that process by heart. But this. This didn’t happen very often, but you were determined tonight, it seemed. He didn’t complain, even if he laid back with a sense of uncertainty because not knowing what would happen was distressing and thrilling at the same time.

You finally pull his boxers down enough to expose his semi-hardness and smile, running your hands down his sides just as he had done to yours, lifting his shirt up a little bit more. You look down at him brazenly, admiring his bare manhood, smiling at him. “My baby is pretty all over.” you say, making him close his eyes, head falling back into the pillows as he suppresses a moan. The image gives you a violent sort of hunger, like you wanted to own him, rail him till he saw stars.

You hold his length, pressing it into his belly with your palm before you finally lower your head and press your lips to his base. You feel him twitch under you at the same time you hear him let out a shaky moan, like he was feeling too much pleasure than he wanted to show.

“Let me hear your sweet voice, baby.” you encourage him and press more kisses to his balls, slowly rubbing circles with your thumb on his sensitive tip. You’ve swept your hair to one side and you hum into the kisses before the need to taste him tastes over. So you part your lips and let your tongue swipe him as you pucker, making him hiss out in pleasure. You gently start sucking then, rolling your tongue over and over, taking your time with it. You were in no rush. The two of you had all night.

You gently start rubbing the underside of his growing length with your palm, almost massaging it, little beads of precum dripping onto his belly. You look up at Taeyong through your lashes and find his head thrown back, eyes closed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. He looked like an angel. So you start to kiss up his length, on the sensitive underside, little moans escaping your mouth as well and Taeyong can barely breathe. It feels forbidden to him, laying here like this as you pleasure him but he has to admit that it is a sweet form of torture and he wants it as much as he doesn’t.

Your lips finally find his leaking tip. You stop, just so he’d look at you, giving you a chance to hold his gaze when you kiss it, a sweet, unassuming press of the lips, nothing more. But it has the effect you wanted because it draws a gurgled, almost pained moan out of him.

“Fuck!” he all but yells out. And that’s all you needed to hear before you wrap your lips around it and start sucking. You take your time, swirling your tongue around, tasting his saline lust in your mouth while your hand takes care of the rest of his length, all the way to the base, softly stroking, massaging. It wasn’t often that Taeyong let this go on for this long. Usually, by this time, he would have lifted you to your feet into a kiss before he went back to his insatiable need to put you on pleasure’s end, making love to you like it was the only thing he was born to do. It took him hurting his back to keep him in place like this, and that wicked part of you is almost thankful for it.

Your mouth has picked up the pace, built a rhythm and the deviant sounds of your spit swirling in your mouth around his flesh fill the room. Suddenly, you hold yourself in place, placing your palms carefully on his thighs and relaxing your jaw before you slowly start easing his length into you inch by inch. You hadn’t done this in a while and certainly not with Taeyong, which is why the poor boy has almost sat up in bewilderment, eyes wild as he looks down at your feverish desire for him.

“Oh God, Y/N…” he sounds like he’s underwater, like his breath is caught in his throat and you would have stopped if his hand didn’t go to your hair, holding you in place, telling you otherwise. So you keep going lower, never minding the slobber that drools out of you inelegantly and anoints him. You wanted him inside you like this, all the way in your throat where he’d never been, and you were going to make it happen.

“Fuck, baby, fuck…” he’s whimpering now, moaning like it was too much and you almost take mercy on him. Almost. But you were so close now and you wanted him to be in the deepest parts of you because it was him. It was Taeyong, the boy who took your heart and broke down your walls and taught you what it was like to be loved without condition. You wanted to give him every part of you, good and bad. In this moment, you decide that you will love him with the same fervent worship that he loves you. That you would pleasure him with the same passionate devotion he pleasures you. And that you would stay by his side for as long as he would have you. It was strange, having this epiphany whilst his cock was lodged all the way in your throat.

You come up then, wiping your chin on the back of your hand and move up with the sudden hunger to kiss him. The riot in your chest has changed to something else, perhaps a feral craving, like you needed to hold this boy down and have him and drive him wild so he was whimpering, sobbing, begging for repentance. You needed him to be bare for you in a way he had never been exposed to anyone before.

So you kiss him deep, kiss him like a promise, vowing all you had thought in your head with your lips before he’s even had a chance to say something. He has noticed your energy shift because his arms are around you, holding you to him protectively, even though you dare not put your entire weight on him. You pull back to look at him and he sees such tempestuous emotion on your face that it makes him worry.

“Baby--” he begins but you cut him off.

“--I want you inside of me.” you announce and lean in to kiss him briefly, mostly so he wouldn’t protest or sit up or take over. You pull back and arrange the cushions around him once more, making sure that he is well and truly secure. You reach into the couch and pull out a condom that you always had stashed in there just in case. He looks at you tenderly and combs your hair away from your face with his fingers and you rip the foil open and carefully roll it down his length. When he is nice and wrapped, you bring your hands to the hem of your shirt because you want to give him a full view. He helps you take it off along with your pants and you position yourself on top of him, aligning him to yourself. You lean over to peck him on the lips.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” you tell him and he holds your hips, nodding as he helps you sink down onto him. Truth be told, he wouldn’t stop this even if it hurt him because this was Taeyong’s personal heaven. You place your hands on his chest and begin rolling your hips, setting a slow, sensual, torturous rhythm that has Taeyong seeing stars. Soon, your moans and gasps are harmonizing and you think that this is perfect. This is where you belong. You were made for each other. You were born for each other. You wanted him in ways you had never wanted anyone before.

You look at him as you sink down fully, feeling him deep and full and you squeeze around him as you lift back up. You don’t pick up the pace, not yet. You just want to see this boy losing his mind as you stroked him with your wet warmth, squeezing him, building his rapture more than he could bear.

Taeyong’s hiding away, and for a moment you wonder if it is because he’s ashamed of feeling this amount of pleasure. He has one forearm thrown over his eyes and the sounds that escape him are trembling keens, like he’s in pain, like he’s being tortured. Every now and then, his breath hitches in his throat and he trembles all over.

So you move his arm and lean over him, taking his face in your palms and kissing his lips. “Look at me, baby.” you whisper at him and he obliges. You kiss the side of his face, over and over, lovingly, almost chastely but your hips are lewd against his, and he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

“I love you, Taeyong. So much. Did you know that?” You say to him, right in his ear as your hips start to make quick work of his shaft. You have him putty, you can see it and for a while, there is victory in your smile. You have him where you wanted him because he’s barely present anymore. All he can feel is your sinfully sweet warmth holding him prisoner and he’s lightheaded. He feels nothing but euphoria, he smells nothing but your scent clouding his senses, he hears nothing but your moans, ringing in his ears like incantations.

You want him this way, crazed and gone, but the desire to have your name on his pretty lips when you’ve stripped him this bare is strong. So you grab his hair in a stronghold to bring him back, placing your lips close to his. “Say my name, baby.”

“Y/N…” he says in a broken cry and holds your hips as he starts thrusting up into you but you stop him. You know he is close, you know he wants an end to this overstimulation, but you finally have him where he seldom lets you have him. And you want to savour it, have this moment be yours for as long as you wanted.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me you need me.” you know it in your heart but you want to hear it. Hear it when he is most vulnerable. Hear your name from his lips like a prayer when he comes undone. You’re going all out on him now, moving your hips against him like there was no tomorrow.

“Fuckkk, Y/N, I love you! I need you! I need you so much it drives me crazy. I need you, I need you… fuck, baby I’m going to come…” his eyes are closing, the words are coming out of him strained, and you watch victoriously. Like you’ve finally pulled the confession you wanted out of your criminal after sweet, prolonged torture. You make him look at you.

“Ahhh fuck, Y/N…” his yell ends in a croak, and you halt your movements, climbing off of him to take him in your hand, pulling the condom off and pumping him quick while your mouth sucks on the tip, tasting yourself on him. His hips buck into you involuntarily as he holds your hair, saying your name over and over like you wanted, spilling his seed into your willing mouth. He watches with amazement as you swallow everything he gives you, pumping him with your hand fast into your wanton mouth.

He slumps back when he’s done and you’re on top of him, kissing him with your dirty mouth. The poor boy looks too worked out to kiss you back with much presence. So you smile and let him be for a moment so you could clean up. You bring him back a wet towel and a fresh pair of boxers. You begin attending to him, softly cleaning him up and for once in your relationship, he is too spent to protest. He lets you care for him. Usually, he was the one who would do this after sex, but here he lies, too injured, too blissed out, too exhausted. So he lets his girlfriend take care of him and if he were being honest with himself, it felt nice to be looked after like that. It made him feel safe, like deserved the love he was receiving. He lets his eyes droop and drifts off for a moment till he feels your weight behind him, your arms encircling him, holding his wide back to your chest. He feels your swollen lips in the spot at the back of his ear and he hums sleepily.

Maybe you’re in the sweet afterglow of sex but you feel warm and full and whole and loved with your boyfriend in your arms. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything.” You tell him softly in his ear and Taeyong melts. He believes the words you tell him, almost like he’s hearing them, really hearing them for the first time. He wants to say so much back but all he can manage is a hum deep in his chest and you feel the reverberation before you hear the sound and it makes you smile.

Maybe when he wakes up, he would tell you how much you meant to him. How thankful he was that you had given him your heart. How you had stuck by him even when his love and passion for you seemed to suffocate you. He finally believed that you wanted to keep him with just as much severity as he wanted you. So he let himself be held as he drifted off in the arms of the woman he loved, wishing that being surrounded in her scent would help him dream of her, too.

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