#sure i'll release this into the wild. why not
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whimsicalcotton · 11 months ago
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apf 20 :O
20 - on a scar
so i ended up setting this somewhere vaguely in the polluted marrow-verse bc How Could I Not w that prompt combo <3
CW for some talk of self-harm
Max won't stop giving her this look.
Chloe's grown used to the weight of her wide-eyed stare — well, sort of — but this feels somehow different. Heavier, hesitant. 
It started midway through their trip. Rachel had called a little earlier in the evening, waxing poetic about her long day and asking if they wanted to pick her up and head out for a bit to de-stress. So Chloe hopped in the truck with Max in tow, and after rescuing Rachel from the dungeon known as Blackwell's dormitories, they’d decided that then was as good a time as any to introduce Max to their tradition of impromptu midnight picnics. One stop at the convenience store and several bags of sweets later, they’ve all settled down in the flatbed, half huddled together and watching the stars between bites. 
Rachel's hoarding a bag of skittles and spinning a tale of Andromeda’s chains when Max starts shivering. Chloe interrupts to ask if they want to head back and is shot down in short order by two different pouts and a dramatic whine of, “No way, I'm just getting to the good part.” So instead she squirms out of her jacket and insists on handing it off to Max, hoping it still carries a bit of residual heat. 
That's when Max starts looking. Bushy little brows upturned in quiet concern, moving to absentmindedly fidget with the jacket collar. It’s something Chloe has come to recognize as a mark of overthinking, a sign that Max is worrying far too much about something more than likely out of her control. 
“Yo, Mad Max,” Chloe calls over to her as Rachel finishes. “C’mere.” She shifts a bit and motions in invitation for Max to come snuggle up to her. Max wastes no time making good on the offer. “What’s with the sad puppy eyes? Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
Rachel moves a little closer too, leans into Chloe’s other side. “I think,” she murmurs, reaching down to run her fingertips over a patch of raised skin on the inside of Chloe’s forearm, feather-light. “She’s worried about these. Am I right?”
Max nods, timid and tentative.
Chloe forgets about her scars, sometimes. She’s used to them. Used to covering them up without a second thought, used to glancing them over, used to ignoring them for the sake of surviving a hot summer day. A good chunk of them are even hidden amidst her tattoo at this point, and she’s learned to ignore what few remain in the open. By now they’ve grown pale and thick with age, not having seen the returning glint of a sharp edge in a long while. Which is a good thing, she supposes; even if their discoloration and visible shift in texture make them almost as easy to spot as when they were fresh. 
“Oh.” She swallows hard, takes a sudden interest in examining the scuffs of her boots. “Don’t stress yourself out about it, Max. They’re getting pretty old. No worries, yeah?”
But Max remains unconvinced. She nestles herself further into Chloe, holds the girl's arm in both of hers and hides her face in the crook of her neck. “M’sorry,” she whispers, half lost to the dark.
Before Chloe can even think of an adequate reassurance, Rachel answers for her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she offers with a soft smile. “I took care of them.” She turns up to Chloe again, donning a slightly more unimpressed expression. “Most of them. When you’d let me, anyways.”
“Oi, I don’t think now is the time for petty technicals.”
“What, like she doesn’t already know how stubborn you can be?” Rachel counters in a lighthearted scoff. She laces their fingers together, gives Chloe’s hand a gentle squeeze. “My point is, you weren’t dealing with it alone. You had me looking after you.” 
They're quiet, for a minute or two, before Max finds her voice. “G-Good,” she says, emerging from her hiding place just long enough to pull back and nuzzle into Chloe’s shoulder. She presses a soft, cottony kiss to one of the less visible scars lurking amongst curls of inky thorn and ribbon. Then another, then another. “Thank you.”
Chloe bites back a shiver of her own.
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say-al0e · 10 months ago
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!
Summary: Following your marriage to Prince Aemond, you did not imagine there would be a bedding ceremony. Nor did you imagine yourself falling so quickly for the one-eyed prince. But you quickly learned he was more than met the eye. | Ft. Anon request for "“What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?” + “Love makes you weak but, god, I’d rather be weak with you by my side than face a life without you.” Warnings: Bedding ceremony, PinV, guarded Aemond, Aegon is an asshole (briefly, then he's gone), one mention of death in childbirth (not graphic, very brief), allusion to Aemond's brothel trip. Anything I missed, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader (wife!Reader) Word Count: 5.1k Requests are Open | HotD Taglist
The fire blazing in Aemond’s eye was not what you expected. It was not fueled by desire, a lust for his new bride or the exciting conquest of claiming your maidenhead as you’d long been warned. It was not bright or joyous, a fire befitting the occasion of your wedding night. Instead, it was dark - angry, a wild blaze threatening to torch everything in its path with little regard for the consequences.
Though your new husband had been nothing but kind to you, polite and even occasionally charming, for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing, you finally understood why so many tended to avert their gaze lest they face Aemond’s ire. 
Before you stood Aemond One-Eye, a fierce dragon rider whose presence commanded attention, and you struggled to keep from withering beneath his gaze as you held his dark look with an even one of your own.
Around you, his apartments teemed with life. Drunken revelers laughed as they surged into the room and circled the pair of you, some of them shouting tawdry jokes while others lamented the loss of the right to the first night. Regardless of their mood, it seemed as if every man in the realm fought to be at your side in a room that once felt so spacious but now left you struggling to catch your breath as they began tugging at pieces of your clothing.
As many hands clumsily tugged at well-tied laces and the heavy fabric of your gown, a few highborn ladies - friends you’d made in the short time you’d been at Court - dutifully removed Aemond’s clothes with much less vigor than their husbands or brothers or cousins.
Aegon led the charge, grin on his lips and breath reeking of wine as he leaned in close. Aemond’s gaze faltered for only a moment, turning to his brother and flashing a warning even the drunkest of men could read very clearly, before it returned to you as Aegon pointedly ignored him. Your drunken good-brother chose, instead, to tip your chin with fingers sticky with wine and draw your gaze away from your husband.
“Do not worry, good-sister,” he began, voice loud, despite his performative attempt at a whisper. He spared Aemond a look, eyes glinting with a mirth that bordered on malice - before he returned his gaze to you. “I made sure my brother was well-educated in the art of pleasure but should you find yourself wanting, you need only say the word.”
By design, you were not given the chance to respond. The last of your garments was removed from your body and Aegon released his grip on your chin to grab your waist. 
The sea of revelers parted. Amidst a cacophony of cheers and jeers, a few murmurs as to how it was a shame your father had agreed to wed you to a man they saw as less than whole, Aegon and one of his friends carried you through the crowd and deposited you into Aemond’s bed.
It was only when you were settled amongst the furs and linens that they were all finally ushered out of the room.
If you were honest, it surprised you that Aemond allowed the bedding ceremony in the first place. The idea was put forth by his brother, a suggestion he’d barely blinked an eye at, but it was plain to see just how adversely the entire spectacle affected him as he approached the bed.
Aemond Targaryen, the very image of his house’s beauty and fire, stood before you with his face a mask of composure you had yet to see fully slip. There were cracks, glimpses into the churning abyss that lingered just beneath the calm surface, and you could see them beginning to spread as a jeer from the crowd echoed just beyond the steel and wood of the door.
There was a flash of hurt, a glimpse so brief you felt certain you’d imagined it, before he swallowed and his jaw tensed. He steeled himself, his resolve, and you could see the mask slip back into place.
“My prince,” you began, voice far quieter than you intended as you sat upright to meet his gaze. “I do not-“
A hum escaped your new husband as he stepped closer, pressing a knee into the soft surface beneath you and shaking his head slightly. “We will speak when there is no crowd standing guard just outside, waiting for evidence our marriage has been consummated. For now, we must fulfill our duty as husband and wife.”
There was an edge of finality in his tone, no room left for argument as he reached for you. Though his touch was not harsh, not as insistent or eager as the men who’d taken great joy in stripping you bare, it was firmer than you’d expected. In the weeks of your courtship, he’d lended an arm as you descended the steps in the garden or offered a hand as you climbed them - each touch soft, almost tentative, and as brief as could be considered proper. 
It was wistful, possibly even naive, to believe the softness of his touch was affection or that it would continue as he pressed you back into the pillows. Aemond was not an outwardly affectionate man, that much you knew to be true, nor was he used to being treated so tenderly. His life had been one lived in a gilded cage, acquiescing to everything expected of him with little argument and even less connection. Love would not come easy to him, nor would affection.
Only time would bring him comfort, trust in you and the ability to be vulnerable, so you made no argument as he settled himself over you. 
The dim candlelight made it difficult to see much - and you wondered how Aemond might react if you allowed yourself to savor the sight of him - but you took the brief chance you were offered to study him. Tall, lithe, muscular; he looked every bit the fearsome dragon rider and well-trained swordsman. Pale hair cascaded over his shoulders, a curtain that cast shadows over the sharp features of his face, but you could clearly see the intrigue in his eye as you lifted your hand to gently cradle his jaw.
Had you not been studying him so closely, so desperate to see some glimpse of warmth beneath the cool surface of your new husband, you might’ve missed his sharp inhale or the way his eye narrowed. Had you not been so enthralled by his appearance, you might’ve missed the way he swallowed or the split second he allowed himself to lean into your careful touch before the impassive mask returned.
Friends, some long married with babes while others had just wed, whispered and giggled when they shared what you could expect. Most of your friends lamented the act itself, thankful only that it often seemed to be over quickly,  as many of their husbands were older lords in need of young wives to produce heirs. It seemed that few cared much at all about their wives’ pleasure and you’d wondered throughout your courtship if Aemond - though young, a man of your own age - might prove similar.
Now that the time had come to find out, you still felt wholly uncertain.
For a long moment, Aemond simply studied you. The deep lilac of his eye traced your face, shadowed by his hair and framed by your own locks - now free from the style your handmaids worked so hard to perfect - and his lips parted. He seemed poised to speak, though before he could, the sound of fists pounding the wood of the door broke whatever spell existed in the solace of the room.
Loud jeers from a drunken crowd reminded you both of your purpose, the reason you had been stripped bare for half the kingdom to see, and Aemond was the first to act.
Though you hoped for little and expected even less, Aemond wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to prove that he could be a husband, an adequate lover, a man who had everything and more. You had no way of knowing his motivation, not then, but you could see the flame in his eye as his hand fell to your hip.
With the hand still cradling his jaw, you managed to hold him in place as you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his. Since speaking your vows earlier in the night, you’d managed to steal two chaste kisses from your new husband - one just after the ceremony, in the few seconds you had alone before the feast began; the other, tucked in a corner before you were whisked away for the bedding. He responded well to both, stepping just an inch closer and allowing his lips to linger for a long moment, and you were pleased to find that he responded just as well to this kiss.
The ladies at court often lamented their husbands’ lack of skill or desire to share a kiss. They all sighed and confessed that the men found no use for it, no fun in it. It made you wonder if Aemond was humoring you, allowing you the kiss that seemed almost tender in nature, in return for your maidenhead - for your hand, your house’s newly pledged loyalty - but you knew well enough that your new husband was not one to indulge in anything he did not want to.
Hope bloomed, then, just beneath your ribcage that he might, someday, even grow to enjoy it as much as you suddenly found that you did.
Calloused hands began to explore your skin, touch light for a fleeting moment - almost reverent, almost tentative - before it grew steadier, more certain. The tips of his fingers left a path of fire in their wake, his skin always running hotter than anyone you’d ever met, and you nearly expected to find a visible path seared over the expanse of your torso as his hands dipped to your thighs.
As of yet there had been little outward sign of affection from your husband - everything felt like a courtesy, the actions of a well-educated prince, chivalrous out of duty only - and you knew that it might be wishful thinking to believe the slow drag of your husband’s hand up your inner thigh was anything more than slight trepidation. But you swore you could see the anger that burned so bright only moments ago morph into something closer to lust, desire, need.
Aemond’s fingers pressed firm into the plush of your thighs as he parted them and you bit the inside of your cheek to smother your gasp as his sharp gaze finally raked over your bare skin.
For all the wandering eyes, the lustful gazes that burned into your skin as so many lords of the realm crowded into the small room, it struck you in that moment that Aemond waited until you were alone to truly look. He waited until you were pliant beneath him, until you’d sated your own curiosity about him, to allow himself a glance at anything other than your face.
And despite the insistent jeers of the crowd beyond the door, he seemed determined to take you as he wished.
“They are expecting to hear us,” he reminded you as his fingers drew closer to your center. “Do not deprive us all of your charming voice.”
A handful of compliments had been levied at you from your new husband - more in regard to your intelligence than your most beautiful gowns, though one had ended with him calling you beautiful - but you still felt your cheeks heat as his fingers grazed your slit.
The swipe of his fingers was almost clumsy, less self-assured than he always seemed to be, but the thought gave you some comfort. Neither of you could disappoint the other if you were on somewhat equal footing.
Aemond’s touch grew more insistent, more assured, from the moment his fingers grazed the small bundle of nerves that wrenched a gasp from your throat and had your nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He focused there, thumb circling the now aching pearl, as his fingers gathered the increasing slick. The deep lilac of his eye had almost vanished, replaced nearly entirely by lust-blown black, but it remained on your face - watching intently with every noise that spilled from your lips.
As desperately as you wanted to close your eyes, to hide from the intensity in his gaze, you found yourself unable to look away from his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the barely there flush that set high upon his cheeks; he was beautiful, regal, and you couldn’t help yourself.
“Gevi,” you breathed, hoping the word sounded as effortless falling from your own lips as it did from his. Your thumb brushed his cheek, just beneath his scar, and you could see the flash of an emotion you could not recognize in his eye.
For a moment, he remained silent, fingers slowing to a barely there press, before he tipped his head. Your hand slipped, fell to his jaw, and you realized it was calculated - purposeful - even as his gaze softened. “My clever wife,” he hummed, matter-of-factly, as the corner of his mouth lifted in something akin to a smile. “Full of surprises.”
A response formed on the tip of your tongue, nowhere near as witty as you hoped for, but the press of Aemond’s fingers into your core stole your breath and all coherent thought. The sensation was odd, unlike any you’d ever experienced, and you could feel your brows furrow as your body attempted to make sense of what was happening. It was not as unpleasant as you expected, nor as pleasurable as you hoped for, but you imagined that both would come in time.
Despite his appearance, his brusque manner, Aemond was not harsh. His touch was no longer soft, no longer tentative, and you could still feel the weight of his hands on your thighs despite his touch having moved, but he seemed to take note of the way you winced when his fingers began to press a little too quickly - a little too hard - and adjusted accordingly.
Soon enough, you found a delicate rhythm - an insistent press of his fingers, an exploration unlike any you’d ever felt, as you used the grip on his jaw to pull him into another kiss.
This kiss was different, heavier. It was hungry, a clash of teeth and tongue and noses that made the backs of your eyes sting. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a bite harsh enough to draw blood, and you inhaled sharply as he lapped at the copper staining your lips. 
The copper tang seemed to spur Aemond on, remind him of his duty and the audience waiting for it to be done. He moved with a renewed vigor, with a confidence you’d quickly come to associate with him. His fingers pressed deeper, searching, and he only seemed content when you broke the kiss to fill the room with a breathless moan of his name. 
Warmth spread over your skin, a combination of his body heat surrounding you and your own pleasure coursing through your veins. Every swipe of his fingers, every circle of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, made the edges of your vision white and the air harder to obtain.
It was then, as your stomach tied itself into knots and your nails sank into the toned skin of his back - his shoulders, his chest, his arms; wherever you could reach, desperate for some tether to reality - that he replaced his fingers with the filling warmth of his cock.
With every noise that fell from your lips, the noise outside the door grew louder. It felt as if the whole of the realm waited just beyond the wood, ears pressed to the door, and Aemond seemed acutely aware of your audience. Gone were the tentative touches, the firm but still careful brushes of his hands. After a few careful initial presses of his hips to yours, he began to sink into you in earnest.
A cry of his name rang through the room, fanning the flames of the fire outside, and your body seemed trapped in the path of the blaze.
Every word of gossip you’d heard from friends seemed true, impossibly, all at once. There was an ache between your thighs, a stinging pain that replaced the pleasant ache of desire, and a dull pinch at your hip as Aemond’s fingers pressed into your skin. The entire room was too hot, almost stifling, and the noise rang in your ears. The tawdry jokes and laughter in the hall, the rustle of linen, the lewd sound of Aemond’s cock pressing into your center, the keening of your moans, the huff of his breath; it was almost too much.
Each sensation that washed over you was distinct but beginning to muddle together.
Despite yourself, your best efforts to take the affection given to you by your husband and appreciate them, you found yourself hoping for something softer, something easier, something better. 
Aemond was lost in that moment, stuck somewhere in the back of his own mind, and you could only whisper his name in hopes that he might allow you a moment to catch your breath.
“Aemond, I - please.” The whispered plea, gasped into the night air and barely audible over the cheers still echoing in the hall, seemed to break his reverie. It returned him to the moment at hand - the pinch of your brows as the ache between your thighs plagued you, the curve of your mouth as you fought to keep your composure, the sting of your nails biting into his shoulder - and gave him pause. 
The snap of his hips faltered, slowed from the near manic thrusts to something more even, and you eased the grip on his shoulder as you inhaled eagerly.
That deep purple gaze swept across your face, searching for something you could not readily provide, before he squeezed your hip in what you chose to interpret as an apology. You accepted it, easily, and offered him a tentative smile as he continued pressing forward - still firm, still deep, only slower now.
Giggles from the past, old whispers that there was real pleasure to be found in bed, began to return to the forefront of your mind as Aemond’s new pace began to replace the pinch and ache between your thighs with that devastating warmth you’d only just experienced. Everything felt too hot, too bright, too much, and the thought must have been clearly written across your face as Aemond hummed.
“Take your pleasure,” he encouraged, voice low in your ear as he leaned in close. “Then, I shall have mine.”
Warmth continued to flood your veins. Fire lapped at your skin, consuming you entirely, and you took no notice of the noise that escaped your parted lips as you allowed Aemond to continue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
The end was as beautiful as you’d heard, as blissful, and you could feel yourself melting into the plush of the bed as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your heart thundered in your chest. All that mattered in that moment was Aemond; the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his skin as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the low rasp of his voice as he all but whispered expletives. 
That pleasure was only heightened by the warmth that flooded you as Aemond stilled atop you, a curse on his lips and head thrown back.
It was a beautiful sight - something worthy of committing to memory, something so beautiful you only hoped to see it again and again. And you only hoped your new husband felt the same as he tipped his head to study you once more.
Aemond lingered only for a moment, his gaze softer than you’d seen directed at you, before he pulled away. Another squeeze to your waist was the only affection he spared before he stood and pulled the white line from his bed. He shifted you carefully - almost tenderly - to remove the fabric then strode across the expanse of the room to the door.
Without ceremony, he wrenched it open and tossed the stained fabric into the crowd.
A loud cheer echoed through the halls, drunken revelers delighting in the evidence of your consummation, but was quickly cut off with the slam of the heavy door.
The crowd grew quieter, noise drifting back in the direction of the hall still filled with older revelers - opting to spend their time discussing matters best saved for an in-person meeting - and you took the brief moment to catch your breath as Aemond did the same.
For just a moment, he lingered near the small table that held a pitcher and glasses, before filling them with wine and bringing them to bed. He handed you one, nodded his acknowledgement to your thanks, and settled back onto the plush fabric at your side.
Silence fell over the room then, a welcome but almost overwhelming lack of sound after hours surrounded by a cacophony of noise. For the first time since you woke that morning, you found that you could hear yourself think.
Every thought centered upon your new husband.
Aemond Targaryen was a mystery. Rumors about him swirled through the realm and whispers abounded at court. None seemed to be in agreement, however.
Some thought him to be fierce, a fearsome warrior who would make a fine knight should he find himself so inclined. Others insisted that Vhagar was his only asset and that he was nothing more than a loyal hound devoted to his family. Others still insisted that the only person Aemond could ever be loyal to was himself and his own interests.
There were whispers that he was cold, unfeeling. There were rumors that he had no interest in anything other than books, that living people meant little to him. But you were beginning to see the truth.
Try as he might to hide it, the nature of his soul that he buried so deeply, you were beginning to see him for who he truly was.
Aemond wanted the things he’d never been given. He sought reassurance, comfort, love. He wanted to be wanted - truly wanted, desired; not needed because he possessed the largest, oldest dragon. And though your match began as a political alliance, you hoped to prove that he was worthy of his desires as you shifted closer and reached for his hand.
“Aemond,” you began, voice quiet as you hoped desperately he would not push you away, even as he tensed. To your relief - and surprise - he did not. Instead, he simply glanced at your linked hands before turning his full attention to your face. “Believe what you wish, but I am glad that it is you I married. I do not want Aegon or any of the other lords lingering about the castle. I did not accept this betrothal without thought and I hope that you will believe me when I say there is no other I could want.”
Though it was slight, you could see the raise of his eyebrow. So, with a sigh, you placed your cup onto the table and grasped his hand with both of your own.
“When my father made it known that he intended to offer you my hand, I was given more attention at court than I ever wanted. I never cared much for it all, but suddenly, it seemed as if everyone wanted me to join them.” With a weary sigh, you began to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his hand. “Everyone had a tale of Prince Aemond they wished to share. Some heard word from a brother or cousin, others whispered tales from their own trips to the Red Keep. I heard so many whispers about you that I began to lose track of who whispered what. I have always held whispers in little regard but it grew so frequent that I nearly worried I might meet a monster.”
The moment you paused, Aemond hummed thoughtfully. “Targaryen’s are said to be closer to gods than men. Perhaps monsters are included.”
“Perhaps,” you agreed, pausing your tracing to glance up at him from beneath your lashes. The deep lilac of his eye met yours and you felt your cheeks heat. “But you are no monster. You are just a man. I was given the chance to reject our union. One word, and I would’ve been spirited away to some lesser lord. But I chose to stay.”
“Why?”
It was a genuine question, accompanied by a look you recognized as being tinged with skepticism. In response, you smiled at him.
“Despite your flaws, real or imagined or embellished, I find myself drawn to you. You have the beauty and fire of your house. You are proud, but not a braggart, quiet but not without charm. You are a noted swordsman and a dragon rider, yet you take no pleasure in tourneys. You are young and capable, intelligent and thoughtful. Of all the qualities one could want in a husband, you possess most."
This earnest admission was met with yet another hum of acknowledgement from your husband, a thoughtful rumination as he allowed the compliment to linger for a moment. Only then, after seeming to savor your words, did he ask, “Which qualities do I lack, wife?”
Had you not grown so accustomed to studying every twitch of his brows, every curve of his mouth, you might’ve missed the hint of a smile he wore. It was a question asked in jest, teasing, and you allowed yourself a laugh.
“Time shall tell,” you assured him, returning his barely-there smile with a soft one of your own. “Though, I would never dare call you perfect, lest your head swell to the size of Vhagar’s.” Aemond allowed you a glimpse of a true smile then, fleeting, but you savored the sight just the same. It brought a strange warmth to your chest, wound the hope that bloomed beneath your ribcage into a tendril that squeezed your heart, and you offered his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand why we were wed. But I have hope that even if we do not find love in one another, we shall find friendship at the least.”
“You would not ask for more?”
“Men’s battles are fought in fields, at sea, on dragon back,” you answered, carefully turning his hand in yours to trace his palm. “A woman’s battle is fought abed. If I were to die there, my only hope is that it would be for someone I cared for, someone who cared for me.”
That lilac eye studied your face once more, more intently, and you could see the weight of your words settling on his shoulders as he realized that he was no longer alone, nor did you have any misunderstandings as to what this life meant for you both. Though he was the spare, pushed down in the line of succession by his brother’s children, he was expected to have a family and in return for giving him heirs, all you asked of him was companionship.
“I believe you shall be a fierce warrior,” he declared, gaze dipping to your fingers gently sweeping across his heated skin.
“And I believe you are all I could have hoped for in a husband,” you confessed, hoping he might agree - that he might declare you to be all he could’ve hoped for in a wife.
And though he seemed unopposed to you, he instead asked, “Do you believe that truly?”
“I do,” you confirmed, pausing your tracing to meet his eye. “I’ve long been afraid of marriage, of becoming trapped with someone who cared little for me, but I am more afraid that growing to love you will be easier than I ever imagined.”
“Love makes you weak,” he all but whispered, though the words held little conviction and even less weight. They were the words of someone afraid, someone unused to love and affection, and you met them with a gentle smile.
“Perhaps it is a good thing we are married, then. I believe love makes you stronger. My father loved my mother and he fought like hell to return to her each and every battle he waged. Love provides motivation,” you offered, only to be met with another thoughtful hum. Rather than pressing, you shifted the conversation after a moment of silence. “Why did you allow the bedding ceremony?”
Aemond paused for a moment and seemed to consider his answer. “I had every intention of forgoing it,” he confessed, free hand tracing the lip of his glass. “Then, we met and it was selfish, I suppose. I have something most men in King’s Landing will covet - a comely wife from a noble house who has made me the sole object of her affection. Allowing the ceremony provided an opportunity to boast, to show that while they may look, you are mine. No other will know the pleasure of your company.”
The reasoning behind his allowance was understandable, even more so when you considered that he was the second son of a man who scarcely remembered his sons in the first place. It was not often he was given something others desired, not often he could be envied, and you could not begrudge him the opportunity he’d taken.
“I am yours,” you agreed, lifting his hand to place it over your heart. “While I believe love will make us stronger, I would not mind being seen as weak, just so long as you are by my side. Others may whisper or believe what they wish but know, lord husband, that I want you and you alone. I look forward to the future and hope the gods bless us with a long and happy marriage.”
“I shall leave faith to you,” he declared, though the words were softer than you believed he intended. “But I have little doubt that you will be left wanting.” Aemond turned, then, and removed the eyepatch covering his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the dim candlelight and you squeezed his hand to keep yourself from reaching out for him.
“Gevi,” you repeated, smiling upon the full face of your new husband.
Aemond’s mouth curved once more, a touch more noticeable, before he sighed and shifted to lie amongst the pillows. “Sleep, dear wife,” he encouraged, pulling you into the pillows at his side.
With the morning sun, your new life would begin. As tentative as you’d once been, you no longer felt any fear. There was far to travel, much to be gained in the way of your new husband’s trust, but you imagined he was right; neither of you would be left wanting, so long as you had the other.
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Author's Note: It's my first time writing for Aemond (or anything GoT/HotD related) so I hope it's alright. I didn't want to go too soft but I also didn't want to go too mean/cold? I dunno. Let me know what you think! :)
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cookiekissers · 7 months ago
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I won't be replying directly to this request because it was anonymous, but for the future please remember to send off anon if you want nsfw. I can't guarantee or verify your age because anyone can lie about their age when they're on anon!
🔥🔞[Short Spicy Fic + Burning Spice NSFT HCs]
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You stare up at the towering giant of a Cookie looming over you. His hair was dark, long, and wild. He had a muscular build, strong arms, and a large, well-defined chest. The guy was stacked, especially in the chest region. It was impossible not to let your gaze wander down his form. Now, this was one handsome Cookie.
"You. Cookie. On your knees. Bow to the Great Destroyer!" Burning Spice Cookie commanded. You blinked in confusion.
During your travels through the sands of this land, you saw many statues dedicated to "The Great Destroyer." Though the Cookie was handsome, he didn't look anything like those giant, beastly statues.
You snickered playfully.
"Heh, really, you? The Beast of Destruction? You sure about that, handsome?" You tease.
You opened your mouth to fire another flirtatious comment at the stranger when he suddenly lifted you by your hips and slammed you against the steep rock wall, knocking the breath from your lungs. Burning Spice's large, muscular body pressed up against you, caging you in with ease. He stared down at you, the heat in his eyes scorching you to your very core. You felt yourself flush, feeling as vulnerable as ever under his hungry gaze. Burning Spice growled low in his throat, his tongue swiping over his lips, eyeing you with a growing lust.
"Very brave of you to speak to me that way, little Cookie." He commended. "But I'll show you what the Beast of Destruction is capable of and why I earned that title." Burning Spice grinned. His voice turned husky, his words full of promise. You gulped, trying desperately not to fidget. Burning Spice leaned forward, capturing your lips roughly. His hot kiss filled you with a fiery need as your tongue tingled and burned with a sweet, addicting heat. Your legs quickly wrapped around Burning Spice's waist, and he wasted no time grinding himself between your legs, his eagerness showing itself quickly.
You gasped as Burning Spice Cookie pulled away to focus on your neck, covering it in feverish kisses that leave behind a tingling sensation. It was one that you couldn't get enough of. His sharp, golden teeth sunk into your crispy dough, and a sudden yelp from you made him chuckle in triumph. The Beast's grinding had become quicker and more desperate. You hung on, your fingers tangling in his black locks as his teeth remained clamped on your throat. Slowly, you could feel something rubbing against you in Burning Spice Cookie's loose pants.
"The destruction I cause on Earthbread will be nothing compared to what I will do you, my little Cookie~" The Beast rumbled fervently.
You panted, your face flushed and your stomach tying itself in knots at Burning Spice's husky voice in your ear. The friction he was giving you only made you feel hotter, and your head spun.
Once he released your throat from his jaws to shove his tongue down your throat, you took the initiative. You wrapped your arms around his neck eagerly, surprising him with a steamy kiss of your own. Burning Spice Cookie wasn't rough in that moment, it almost seemed sweet the way he squeezed you tightly, kissing you deeply and grinding up against you. You drew back slightly, panting.
"Well then, go ahead. Destroy me, Daddy,~" You purred seductively, teasing him further, your hands trailing over his chest and shoulders. Burning Spice Cookie grinned widely at the invitation, and he reached down and ripped your pants off your body.
🔥[HEAD CANONS]
You can't tell me after spending centuries locked in a magical prison he isn't going to be pent up and horny. Showing clear interest in him and teasing him is going to get you a one way ticket to pound town. Burning Spice won't even care if you two do it out in the open, he's horny and he wants you NOW.
Yeah, he would definitely fuck you in front of his spice army. Just to make sure that everyone knows that you're his.
I hc that the Beasts are much larger than the average Cookie, Burning Spice especially. And of course, being a big guy, his dick is huge lmao
Call him "Daddy" and he will go crazy. You won't be leaving him for a while or walking when its over.
He loves cumming inside and filling you over and over. He gets unexpectedly mushy and cuddly after a breeding session.
Burning Spice is the definition of Spicy. His internal temperature is far higher than the average Cookie's and his cum is no exception! It's hot, literally, but thankfully not hot enough to cause injury, but it does take a little bit to get used to.
I imagine him to be the type to be ok with a friends with benefits type of agreement, only to get needy for you frequently, and realize in the middle of fucking that he's balls deep in love with you hjghfjgf
He doesn't like anyone else touching what is his. Any Cookie tries to hit you up he's grabbing his axe and not holding anything back.
Loves biting you while he fucks you hard. Its one of his favourite things, and you will often be covered in bite marks.
When out in public, he will be his usual self. But when in private with you, the tiniest amount of his old self from before his corruption will come out. But these occasions are rare.
Burning Spice will probably prioritize his pleasure over your own, but he's not going to leave you unsatisfied.
He's a top/dom, and does not tolerate anything else. He likes having control over you during sex and enjoys ravaging you until you pass out.
Is lowkey a bit into degradation. Will call you a cumslut, boy toy, pet, daddy's dirty boy, daddy's cock slave, ect
935 notes · View notes
smutallyouwant · 8 months ago
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Twice Fic World ch. 4
Troublesome🍓
Chaeyoung + Surprise Guest x M reader
Word Count: approx. 3.5k
Chaeyoung is troublesome as always but it's because of Mina.
Includes: sex filming and degradation
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After the company meeting, boss Jihyo was away on a business trip abroad to meet several investors. The company was managed now by her Vice chairman. A week has gone then, you always find a way to have a quickie with Mina every day. Yesterday you had sex on the emergency exit, and you came inside her as she said it was her safe day.
Today is a regular day at work, and on break time you see Mina in a usual sexy dress. Every dress she wears is sexy and attractive to your eyes. She is wearing a white top and a black short skirt. You pulled her into the emergency exit stairs to have a quick ' talk '.
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" Hey, you always do this " she said giggling.
" You're wrong, we always do this "
You pinned her to the wall and you began making out. She gently puts her bag down and hugs your neck as you deepen your floppy kisses as if you're both hungry for it. You palmed her smooth cheek as you kissed her neck. Gentle moans came out of her mouth. As you kiss her neck you try to reach down her underwear but she stops your hand midway.
" No Y/N, I'm on my period now "
" Seriously? "
" Yes that's why it's my safe day yesterday Y/N. Don't worry, I'll still make you feel good " she added.
After saying that she pulled out a handkerchief from her bag and put it on the floor. She kneeled and quickly removed your pants. She hastily released your bulge and licked your shaft all over.
" Yes Mina, keep licking the head "
She gave a lot of attention to the head before sucking your dick. You can feel how good Mina is on sucking dick. It's like she's careful and gentle every time she suckles and licks your dick inside her mouth. You held her head and tilted it a bit to thrust into her back cheeks. The bulge coming from her cheeks makes you more horny, and every thrust she releases soft moans.
" Ugh that's it baby, you like my dick that much? "
She nodded and began to fellatio your dick as she is keeping eye contact with you. She tilted her head a bit and pushed her hair aside, she made the angle right for you to see her beautiful chest and cleavage as she swallows and licks your dick inside her mouth.
" Fuck, Mina you really make me want to fuck your throat deep right now "
She just stared at you seductively like telling you to do so. You held her head and you aligned her throat to your shaft. You gently pushed it as deep as possible. Mina's eyes rolled back as you gently caress her hair while pushing your dick to her throat. After a few seconds of feeling her throat, you started pounding her mouth.
*golk golk golk golk
Sound of pleasures escaped both of your mouths, Mina is holding both your thighs as you fuck her mouth like a wild beast. She started to have tears and her makeup slowly became a mess. You use your thumb to wipe the tears coming from her eyes and the rest of your hand is holding her head. She smiled as you swipe the tears of and caress her hair as you fuck her mouth, showing that you still care for her. You can see the bulge on her throat, and you won't last long.
" Mina, I'm cumming make sure to swallow it all baby "
She hugged your thighs as if saying " do not stop ". You spurt all your cum in her throat as deep as your dick can get. As you're cumming, her tongue swirls on your dick. She cleaned off your shaft and showed you her mouth. No sign of cum. She swallowed it all. You kissed her and helped her clean the mess.
You waited outside the girl's comfort room for her.
" Y/N, I know you're still now satisfied" she teased you as she goes out the comfort room.
" How can I? Your blowjob is the best "
" Hahaha don't act tough now, I need to do some work later but I know that you've already done all your work by now "
" You know me well, Mina" you answered.
" I suggest you clock out early, I called someone to satisfy you. Bye see you around. " She said while sending a flying kiss.
You're a little bit confused but as you walk back to your table...
*Chaeyoung sent you an image
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Chaeyoung: Hey Y/N, come out I'm already outside. I won't wait long.
You quickly got out of the building and saw Chaeyoung waiting for you outside.
" Hey boy, did you clock out already? " She shouted.
" Yes I did, since Mina told me so "
" Good, come inside the car we'll go to my friend's place" she said.
You arrived at a condominium and as you entered the elevator Chae hugged you from the back and caressed your bulge.
" I missed your cock Y/N, Mina can't take that right now so as her good girlfriend I'll take it for her " she seduced you.
" Well she took her amazingly earlier, with her mouth it is "
" Well I know that, you can check it yourself "
Chae showed you a video of the happening earlier. It turns out that Mina started filming after she put her bag down, her phone is inside that you did not notice.
" I became very horny as I watched that, I longed for your dick while I was with my friend. My beautiful girlfriend said that I can have you right now so I drove quickly to pick you up "
She let go of you, and looked at you seductively as the elevator opened. You entered a room and what lies ahead is a woman watching a TV.
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She looked at you from top to bottom before saying a word.
" Hi Chaeyoung, you came back fast with your boy "
" Yes, this is Y/N, my girlfriend's fuck buddy. But he's mine right now " Chaeyoung answered.
You're very surprised at how the two talked like that like it was nothing.
" Hi " she said.
" Hello "
" That's IU Y/N, my friend and you can just not mind her" Chaeyoung said before pushing you to the sofa.
Chaeyoung sat on you and made you hug her from behind.
" Hey IU, start the game again! " Chaeyoung said.
You're confused but the two started playing video games. Chaeyoung grinds her pussy on your bulge once in a time, she's comfortable on top of you but you're very horny right now as her bare shoulders showing from her black sleeveless top is seductive. You pecked her shoulders and she smiled while playing. She said you should not mind IU so you started kissing her shoulders and caressing her boobs. The idea of someone is beside you while Chae grinds on top of you and you explicitly kissing her shoulders and fondling her breasts makes it even more hot and exciting.
" Agh" a gentle moan from Chaeyoung.
Chae' s breath becomes heavy and you start kissing her neck. She used her one arm to hold your head and caress your hair.
" I lost, IU I don't want to play anymore" Chaeyoung said.
She puts down the controller and uses her other arm to hold on your legs for her to grind harder on your bulge. Her head turns to you as if she's asking for a kiss. You began making out as IU is playing a single player game. Chaeyoung faced forward to you and hugged your neck as you made out wildly.
Moans came out of your mouths and Chaeyoung started to caress your chess and abs inside your shirt. You can see IU take some glances and even make eye contact with you. It made you uncomfortable but it's so hot that you didn't mind her even.
" Is it really alright to do it here Chae? "
" Don't mind IU, we do this all the time " Chae answered before burying her tongue in your mouth and sucking your lips.
" I can't take it anymore " Chae said.
She took off her bottom and your pants, she rode your dick as soon as it popped out your underwear.
" Ugh yes, Y/N I missed this big cock of yours "
" I missed riding your big ass cock "
You took off her black top and bra, you suckles on her tits as she grinds your dick inside her pussy. IU is basically afk from the game and is watching her friend ride your cock. You hold onto Chae' s small hips and help her pound your dick harder
" Ugh! Ugh! ugh! This is the best Y/N "
Chae is basically screaming while biting on her fingers as your dick knocks her walls deep.
" Do me your best Y/N, I know you know what I like " Chae teases you while smiling.
You choked her with one arm and the other hugged her whole hips. You pounded her from below as you lift her up and down.
" Uglh, uhlg, ulhg "
Moans are saturated by the choke on her neck.
" This is what you wanted huh? You fucking slut "
" You want your friend to watch you being fucked hard and abused huh? "
Chae nodded. You can see IU smiling while she films all of it, you didn't ever care. Suddenly an idea flooded your mind . IU is hitting the same pose as you saw her earlier and you can easily touch her from your sofa. You hold onto her legs for ' leverage ' as you make Chaeyoung ride you, cowgirl style. IU doesn't seem to mind.
" Yes ride that dick from behind you slut "
" Let your friend film how I degrade your pussy from behind " you said as you slapped her ass hard.
While all of this is happening you caressing IU' s legs and up to her ass. You fondled her ass while filming Chaeyoung riding your dick.
" I had sex chocolate before this, I never knew it would work great. I'm very sensitive right now and I feel like coming any second now " Chaeyoung said with heavy breath.
" Then make yourself cum with my dick you fucking maniac
" Ugaaahhhhh! " Chaeyoung screams and squirts while her body trembles in pure pleasure. She lays on you as your dick slipped out her pussy.
" Hey slut I didn't even cum, and you laid down like a doll right now? "
" I want to have that chocolate some time too, Chaeyoung " IU said.
You aligned your dick on Chae' s pussy planning to fuck her while she's still having orgasm.
" Hey boy, let her rest. Maybe we should take care of that? " IU said while pulling you to her side.
IU removed your shirt and caressed your manly body as she planted her lips onto yours. You began making out with a beautiful and sexy stranger. IU took off her shorts and underwear.
" I will make you cum, boy come here "
You went on top of her and fucked her like crazy. Having sex with a stranger that watched you have sex earlier is so arousing.
" Fuck! Chaeyoung is right your dick is so fucking big"
" ughh, ugh, ugh, ugh "
She moans sexily every thrust you make. On the side Chaeyoung picked up the camera and started filming.
" Wow isn't he so good at fucking as pussy IU? "
" Yes Chaeyoung, it's like you said" IU answered.
You kissed IU as you ram her.
" Fuck me from behind Y/N "
You switched positions and IU posed like she was during the time Chaeyoung ride your dick. You slapped her plump ass and fucked her from behind like an animal.
" Ugh, ugh yessss hard like that baby "
Chaeyoung knelt to the ground so IU from the sofa can suckle on her breast. You watch IU suck on Chae' s breast as you fuck her. They basically made out while you slam your dick deep inside IU. You leaned forward asking for a kiss from IU, but Chaeyoung doesn't want to release IU from the kiss. So you sucked on IU' s neck instead. While you fondled her tits under her body.
" I'm cumming now, baby Y/N "
" Ughhh ughhhh yesss this is the best " IU Moaned in pleasure.
Your dick is about to pop as IU released her load moan while cumming. And you can't take it anymore.
" I'll cum inside you, IU "
" Yes baby fill me up right now, ugh! "
IU grabbed your head with one hand for a kiss while you came inside her pussy.
Both of you laid flat like a vegetable and you looked at Chaeyoung.
" You planned this very good Chae, your friend is so fucking delicious "
" Thanks, she's been longing for dick for the last 6 months now as her boyfriend dumped her "
" As a food friend, I comfort her once in a while, with Mina's consent of course. But I got the idea to let her fuck you so she can be satisfied completely. It turned out perfect " she said while both of you are giggling"
Chaeyoung headed home first as she doesn't want Mina to get home without her. As for you, you and IU had a good conversation about her boyfriend and had two great fuck sessions before you headed home.
" Ugh your dick is the best, Y/N "
" fuck, YESS! Ugghhh "
" I'm cumming baby "
After having a shower you waved goodbye to a new friend, a friend that fuck each other.
" Come by next time, make me happy again Y/N. I'll also avail you from Chae some time haha " she said before waving goodbye and closing her door.
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royalarchivist · 1 year ago
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Ramon had a cute idea for the Huevitos (members of Fit's community) to fill the #ramonbday tag with art and kind messages so he can show them to Fit for his birthday (February 1st), so here's my contribution! I have over 800 Fit-related clips, so it was hard to choose just a few fun moments from stream :'D
Even though the QSMP server won't be open until February 3rd, we still have a few more days to share messages, art, etc. – so if you'd like to post something for Ramon to potentially include in Fit's birthday surprise, make sure to post it by January 31st and use the tag #ramonbday!
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[ Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]
Fit: I can't believe I'm a homosexual now.
FitMC 2023 - 2024 Highlights
Vegetta: Leonarda, give me the picture.
Fit: Leonarda, you should give him a picture.
Vegetta: It's for saving your life!
Fit: [Picks up the photo she dropped] Oh, now I have it. [Sees its a photo of Vegetta and Melissa in their stripper outfits] Oh. Oh my.
Fit: It's a life experience Tubbo, you know? Aren't you glad you–
Tubbo: "Life experience" deez nuts, you bald bastard.
Fit: Ok, I'm looking through the bars– There's like, yeah–
Pac: [Falls off the wall] AAAAA–
Fit: [Dumping his wild cats in the Bakery] I'll just– I'll just release them in here. Screw it. What's the worst that could happen?
[The next day]
The big cats are still, uh– [Sees the cats mauling the Baker] Oh my god. They do NOT like the Baker
Jaiden: Fit, you're just a guy, right?
Fit: I'm just a dude. I'm just like– I'm just like the generic RPG protagonist. Like, human male, warrior. Like, it's– I'm as vanilla as you can get
-
Fit: Sneeg– shut up, I'm doing gay roleplay right now!
Fit: Tubbo, if you want to disable mines, you are disrespecting the entire Hispanic community.
Fit: What are you doin' staring at me, Baldy? Yeah, you think you're hot sht?
[The Binary Monster shows up]
Fit: OH, FCK–
Fit: The oldest anarchy server in Minecraft.
Fit: The youngest gay roleplay server in Minecraft.
Fit: [While playing "Hide and Seek" with Ramon] If he moves, then I know that was the spot.
Ramon: [Stares at him as the Metal Gear Solid "discovered by an enemy" vwing! sound plays]
Fit: [Cackles] WHERE YOU GOIN' BOY? WHERE YOU GOIN' BOY?
Fit: To be a turtle in the Arctic, you hate to see it. Yeah, you know this turtle is... not so different from me. It's living in a place that's trying to KILL it.
Tubbo: [To Pac] Just lay down. [Starts Casualonas-ing] This is for you.
Fit: [Immediately equips his weapon]
Tubbo: This is for you, king.
Pac: [Laughs] Fit - you see this?
Fit: [Shoots Tubbo, who starts screaming] I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Uh-
Tubbo: Ok, ok, well he–
Fit: Misfire, misfire, misfire!
Tubbo: He wasn't- he wasn't- OW OW OW!
Fit: Misfire!
Fit: Sometimes- it's not about doing the right thing, Phil – it's about doing the more entertaining thing. Right?
Phil: PFTTTTT–
Fit: They banned my ass. They're like, "Why are you talking to Pac like that?" That's unacceptable on this family-friendly Christian Minecraft server (TM). Like– "We can't be having any of that." "Can't be having any of THAT."
Cucurucho: [Slowly turns to stare at Fit while Pac is talking to him]
Fit: [Silently starts cracking up]
Pac: Ok Cucurucho, I'm gonna be waiting for your response
[Fit putting up art that Ramon drew]
Foolish: Boo it if it's bad!
Fit: Heyyyyyy! That's actually –
Foolish: Oh! Wait, that's– That's actually pretty good, what the fck.
Fit: Ramon, you weren't supposed to actually try. This is incredible!
[They both laugh]
Pac: Yeah, yeah! I was–
Tubbo: Everyone goes through their dick phase.
Fit: Yeah...
Pac: Yeah, everyone does.
Fit: Oh? Oh– is that so, Tubbo? Yeah?
Tubbo: Everyone- everyone–
Fit: When did you go through your dick phase? [Laughs]
Tubbo: I'd argue I'm in my dick phase right now.
Fit: Uh, you know, speakin' of spruce– you know Bruce Lee, right?
Phil: Yeah?
Fit: If Bruce Lee was a plant, he'd be Spruce Tree.
Phil: [Disappointed grumbling]
Fit: [Laughs]
[Fit gets kicked off the server]
Fit: [Laughs even harder]
596 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago
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More someone older smut drabble pls
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When he wakes up, he feels somewhat.. anxious?
He slowly sits up in his bed to look around, checking the digital clock next to his bed on the small table twice just to make sure that he's truly not asleep anymore. Because this- just doesn't feel quite real.
There's faint music playing in his home, outside the bedroom. The smell of something cooking fills the room as well, dishes clattering a bit in the sink in the kitchen. He knows it must be you- he's aware that you're staying with him after all. But still.
This feels too much like his mind making things up.
The bedroom door opens slowly, your head poking in, before you realize he's awake. "Oh, you're up." You say, entering more openly now. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"Why did you get up without me?" He wonders, feet meeting the floor as he's moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making you giggle as you sit down on the bed on your knees.
"Cause.. I wasn't tired anymore." You shrug, reaching out to somewhat tame his slightly wild bedhead. "And I thought you might appreciate breakfast?"
"I do appreciate that." He smiles, before he catches you off guard by tugging on your arm and making you lay down, before he positions himself over you. "But you could've also woken me up." He chuckles before pecking your lips once.
"But you were sleeping so tight." You say. "Looked like you were dreaming."
"Hm.. I was." He agrees, kisses moving to your neck. "Of you."
"Oh?" You wonder, stretching your arms above your head for a second. "What were you dreaming of?" You ask.
"Things I'd love to make a reality one day." He purrs against your skin, before he releases you again. 'I'll shower real quick, alright?" He tells you, before he pecks your lips once more and leaves into the bathroom to shower-
And you're honestly not sure what makes you feel so bold.
Maybe it's that feeling of safety you have with him, this odd sense of security here in his home, as if nothing can really harm you in here. So when you move to enter the bathroom as well, shower already running with him inside, you don't feel any sort of hesitation as you shed your clothes and join him beneath the warm water.
It's a sight that easily makes him stir alive, remnants of his dream revived as he watches the water pearl down your skin. The way you easily touch and kiss him is making his head spin, making him forget about your past hesitation in its entirety.
This is how it's supposed to be. Easy, simple. No worries about what might be the best thing to do.
Just existing.
Your hand on him makes him gasp into your mouth, a sound you eagerly swallow, his back hitting the tiled wall of the shower. He manages to turn the steady stream of water up ahead a bit lower as you fall to your knees, the anti slip mat on the shower floor cushioning them quite a bit as you work on him.
It's now what his dream was about- but he's sure he could never come up with a scene as serene as this anyways, imagination not advanced enough to even think of this potentially happening.
Just like back at your place before, this time once more he's a slave to your actions. It's causing his mind to go blank at the way your tongue runs over the head of his cock, beckoning him further and further towards his release. And then your hands join in to hold and touch what you can't fit, effortlessly making the muscles in his thighs spasm as he spills inside your mouth with his head thrown back against the tiles of the shower, a hand in your hair.
He can't let this stand.
And he doesnt- returning the favor shamelessly so with both his hands and mouth, eagerly devouring you as his first breakfast before he later on sits at the table in the kitchen to eat his actual one, conversation innocent enough to mask over the things that went down not even long enough ago to dry your hair fully.
If this is a dream, he doesn't want to wake up. If all the Christmas decor and your words about baking later are lies, he doesn't want to hear the truth.
He wants to stay like this-
And he'll do anything to make it work.
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cellarspider · 18 days ago
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Star Wars: The Old Republic, and the Return of the Weirdest Guy
I've done a couple of tounge-in-cheek analyses of SWTOR backstory recently, and frankly, it was mostly an exercise in nostalgia: finding old drawers in my brain full of dusty old factoids, and dumping them out into essay-shaped monstrosities. Bioware released SWTOR on the 20th of December, 2011. There are kids who were born that day who'll be entering 8th grade this year. There was only one version of Skyrim when it came out, and it was only just over a month old!
SWTOR's development team has since been rehomed at Broadsword Online Games, which has meant a reduced budget while allowing the lights to stay on, and story updates to slowly continue. I've been content to keep splashing around in the base game, vaguely planning on getting a character or two through to the current storylines, but never actually getting there.
And then Star Wars: Celebration happened last week, and I am now forced to consider the unthinkable: getting my ass in gear and playing the new stuff, because I saw this.
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This appears to be Darth Jadus. It's been thirteen real, actual years since he was last seen. Follow me below the fold, and find out why I'm obsessed with this man who once faked his death to get out of attending work meetings, and because his coworkers weren't reading his manifesto.
Content warnings before we begin: much as I love Jadus as a villain, he is a villain. He's a cult leader and he's in the running for Worst Dad of SWTOR, which is saying something when his competition includes a guy who had 1,300 years of practice to perfect being a really terrible dad.
Note that there will be additional jokes and analyses in the image alt text, which is where wild tangents build their nests.
Spoilers for the entirely of the Agent plotline, Act 3 of the Jedi Knight plotline, and various moments throughout the expansions. Assume Wookieepedia links contain unmarked spoilers for literally everything. I'll be covering the context of Jadus among the Sith, his plotline, some of my own speculations as to his motivation, and how things may go, now that this SWTOR cryptid is crawling out of the ductwork to be spooky in person once again.
Just to give you the flavor of this guy, I'll sum up his plot as succinctly as I can, right at the top: Jadus anonymously funds and arms a terrorist group and sends them to attack himself, seemingly dying in an extremely extra fashion. He's also outfitted them with undetectable biomechanical death satellites, and while those are finishing up their unholy maturation, he's taking a vacation to drive two hundred of his followers face-meltingly insane. His daughter will keep anyone from noticing this by being such a galaxy-class disaster that Jadus can just hang out for a few months.
He plans to return from the dead on the day the superweapon satellites are unleashed, taking control of then to wipe out the terrorists and simultaneously destroy his rivals' power bases, forcing them to acknowledge him and his horrible invisible space-laser children. He will then lead the Empire in whatever weird direction he feels like, while making sure not to piss off the immortal, eldritch Sith Emperor too much.
If he's allowed to win, he'll give the Sith Empire a light dusting of eldritch cult vibes before he realizes the game has entered Act 3: as an ambitious secondary villain, he's a prime target for the role of "gets killed by the end boss to show how serious the situation is". He evades this fate by simply leaving the game entirely. He then proceeds to lurk for thirteen real life years, and twenty-three Star Wars ones, before showing up to jumpscare the galaxy again. If that's actually him, we don't have it totally 100% confirmed yet. It could just be someone with a similar taste for being gigantic and wearing that one mask.
I intend to describe the hows, whys, and WHY?!?s of Jadus in a tasteful yet unhinged essay below.
So.
Let's take a moment and step back, to look at what made the Sith into compelling villains in the first place: Darth Vader. Growing up with the original movies, there was barely any detail about him, just electrifying little glimpses of a deeply scarred body and mind beneath the mask.
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Really, when you set aside everything else that's come after, what do the originals tell you? I mean, in the original movie, "Darth" was clearly intended to be Vader's first name, and by the end of the trilogy nobody actually knew what a Sith was, or why Vader was Dark Lord of them. There was almost a timeline where the Sith ended up as little lizard assassin commando guys that thought Vader was a really cool dude.
What made Vader special was the experience of witnessing him on screen, brought to life by the physical performance of David Prowse, and the vocals of James Earl Jones.
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The two of them combined created a performance with a gravitas that has yet to be matched by anyone else who's put on the suit or done the voice. There's a subtlety to the body language of Prowse and the restraint Jones employs in creating the image of Vader.
And let's be clear, Vader is still the untouchable standard, and attempts to recreate him are doomed to fail. But what about making something new and transfixing in other ways? Well, SWTOR has been quite good at that.
The core of SWTOR, anyway.
The voices and designwork do, anyway.
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SWTOR is a Bioware game, and back in this era, that meant one thing: characters moving and gesturing in ways no human would ever attempt, unless they were imitating a malfunctioning animatronic.
These are stock animations that they'd used for years, and they're a cost-saving measure. Each game, storyline, and scene has an animation budget. That's because building a moving piece of art is hard, and doing so inside a computer means you either have to build literally everything from scratch, or you reuse assets that are already available. SWTOR is a game with literal thousands of voiced characters, in a new setting they couldn't reuse art assets for. Writing for the game began in 2006, while the first Mass Effect and Dragon Age games were also in development. There was no way you were getting custom animations outside of key scenes.
And so that leaves you with a good old Bioware tradition: what's your favorite stock animation? The ones I'm most fond of are "person exits a conversation by calmly taking two steps backwards before turning around, like they're a car pulling out of a parking spot", or "person kind of spins both their hands around in front of them, like they're at a loss for words on how to describe watching their buddy walk like an automobile".
So, those are the ground rules for experiencing a Bioware game of this era: everybody looks like a dork in the in-game cutscenes, but the voices and writing carry the day, so eventually you tune out the wiggles. If a character's really lucky, they'd get actual cinematics. If they're Darth Malgus, this is so he can get repeatedly kicked in the face and still look cool doing it.
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[Video Description: The Disorder cinematic trailer, in which Malgus forces a Jedi padawan to confront how her master made the choice to abandon her brother, leaving him to an unknown fate. I've shown this before in other essays, and damn it, I'll show it again. This shit is fantastic. Malgus is in fine form, in terms of combat, manipulative villain behavior, and getting smacked into walls. You have no idea how often that happens to him. It appears to be one of his hobbies at this point.]
Malgus is the closest SWTOR strays to Vader, and the main point of comparison for all other Sith in the game. Voiced by Jamie Glover, he's a seething menace who's maintained a strong presence throughout much of the game's thirteen year run. He rebels against the Sith orthodoxy, making a play to rule them, and eventually rejects them entirely. He's even taken on more of the Vader cybernetics over time, as his life of conflict has broken more and more of his body, while leaving his mind intact. His vocal performance is very distinct, but in tone is probably closest to Vader's early portrayal in A New Hope: more open malice and contempt.
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And if you're lured into the supplementary material like tie-in novels and such, you get his whole backstory, and it really doesn't improve things. You don't need to know who he was, or hear his inner monologue. His outer monologue gives you what you want without ruining the mystique.
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Then there's the Sith Emperor himself, whose transcendent evil is brought to life by the voice of Doug Bradley, an actor best known for his lead antagonist role in the Hellraiser series. I'll admit I've only ever personally heard the Emperor in full form once, due to my meandering path through the game. But when I did? Every ridiculous thing about the game fell away, because his restrained performance carried the moment so well.
And when expansions and books start explaining more of what his deal is, it's often subtractive to his menace. Thanks in no small part to how much of that is tied up in Revan, a figure beloved by fans in Ye Olden Times, whose SWTOR-era canon is more of a "we don't talk about him" kind of affair. If you want the blow-by-blow, just check out the fifty-thousand word Wookieepedia page for Revan and feel your soul slowly shrivel up over the course of an hour or so.
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But when you meet the Emperor again after Revan's dead, now manifesting in another body and with a different voice, you might hear him refer to Darth Jadus as "the finest Sith my empire ever produced."
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And when you encounter Jadus, should you make the very good decision to try the Imperial Agent plotline, you might see why the Emperor thought that.
Darth Jadus is voiced by Stephen Rashbrook, who's mostly done narration and voiceover for documentaries. I'd guess that the most popular things he's been in have been this game, and the Black Mirror episode Bandersnatch, where he also does narration for something. The only credit that made me sit up and say "Oh shit! He was in that?" was the PBS/Channel 4 documentary series Secrets of the Dead, which careens between sensational goofiness and actually some of the best damn portrayals of archaeology on TV.
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[Video Description: Season 2, Episode 2 of Secrets of the Dead, featuring Stephen Rashbrook's narration about a skeleton found near Stonehenge. For those who haven't heard his voice before, this is your baseline that will make things even weirder in a minute. If you do know Jadus already, this itself feels weird as hell. I keep waiting for him to wander off into a sermon on the spiritual benefits of existential terror. It's quite good at digging into the details and techniques used in archaeology, circa 2000. There's a few bits eyebrow-raising bits in the narration, But this particular skeleton has not been reexamined since this same analysis, fitting with theories still accepted today. Also, fun bonus fact in these papers: the previous carbon dating they mention in the documentary was paid for by a dentist who thought the skeleton was King Arthur's. /Description]
I've no idea if Rashbrook will be returning to the role for this surprise return, but he contributes a lot to making Jadus a transfixingly strange figure among the Sith. As with Doug Bradley, restraint is the key element, which wanders between menace and ardent, trance-like conviction.
And sometimes he says just the strangest, most unhinged things you've ever heard.
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[Video Description: From YT user Armored Productions. The second time you encounter Jadus, wherein he basically opens with a Dark Side tone poem, reveals the outline of his entire secret plan in such a cheeky way that it just sounds like the worst salvia trip in the universe, mentions his flagship is named the Dominator, and then cranks up the BDSM vibes to maximum by ordering you to kneel for some sort of ritual purposes. And no, that last bit is never explained. We don't know why he wants you to kneel, or if it was supposed to change something in you. What I do know is that if you refuse to kneel, he gives you a chance to change your mind. If you remain defiant, he hits you with so much Force lightning that the game kicks you out to the menu that asks "you got your ass kicked, do you want to revive here or slink back to the nearest med center?". As far as I can recall, this is the only cutscene that can do this. Jadus hits you so hard you stop being cinematics and start being game mechanics. /Description]
And here's where I let up on the (slightly) serious tone. Because I love this performance dearly, but wow. Wow. He really just says all those things, doesn't he.
"I believe in the democratization of fear," the giant space-gimp tells you, and you believe he believes that, whatever the ass that means.
Because at that point, you really don't know. He's not slowing down to explain this to you, because you are, as far as he's concerned, unimportant. He's not yet aware that you're the main character of the plot line. No, really, I'm only barely joking. He figures it out eventually, but at the moment he's got something else on his mind: screwing over his coworkers.
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As I previously described, the Sith Empire largely runs under the control of twelve unhinged cybergoths known as the Dark Council: turnover is often quick and violent, as rival lords vie for Council seats. Those that survive longer than a few years are uniformly the most powerful and canny among the Sith. They are the most competent at foiling their rivals, maintaining their influence, and administering their respective spheres of influence that underpin an interstellar Empire.
And most of them hate at least one part of that job description, and are constantly scheming on how to undermine the others so they can be left alone to do the parts they actually want to do. How dare everyone else make this difficult for them. How dare Darth Vowrawn be having a good time doing all of this.
Darth Jadus, when the story begins, is one of these Dark Councilors, and he doesn't hate it as much as the rest. He hates it more. He hates it weirder. And despite never engaging in the weekly backstabbery of the Council, the rest all know he's got something long-term cooking. It's just that nobody's been able to figure out what it is. They are correct, but nobody seemed to realize how seriously he was committed to sparkle motion.
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I already previewed his invisible biomechanical laser satellites at the top, but withheld any of his reasons for doing that. So... why is he doing that?
Jadus has gotten fed up with the Dark Council, and with Sith in general. For years, he's been something of an outcast among them for radical ideas like "aliens and slaves are also people" and "Sith aren't the specialest little critters in the universe" and "we should stop fighting each other all the time", and the actual radical ideas like "everyone regardless of circumstance or ability should experience the benefits of the Dark Side, such as its limitless abyss of hatred and terror".
Yes, this man is a socialist, but specifically for the redistribution of bad vibes.
So far, his attempts to convince other Sith have been a failure, but he's done surprisingly well among certain parts of the general public. He runs Imperial Intelligence, which is the only part of the government where aliens can find employment, and Force-blind people can rise to the top ranks.
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In fact, all of Jadus' personal advisors are Force-blind. He's completely purged both Intelligence and his retinue of Sith. He's known to select slaves and aliens for special roles, specifically because everyone else has overlooked their potential for their entire lives—their loyalty will be uncompromised. He's deeply involved in the affairs of Imperial Intelligence, on a level that other Sith don't usually engage.
And so nobody really notices when he has the Imperial Science Bureau try and implement a funky new technoorganic design, especially when it was quietly shut down because they wouldn't be efficient for the war effort. Did Jadus make any copies of their data? Don't worry about it! Worry about what else Jadus might be doing.
Because over the years, his philosophy and absolutely awful personal vibes have created a literal cult following for him. While that's not unheard of for Sith, Jadus takes it to a higher level. He probably has several manifestos published by this point.
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And so nobody really thinks twice when Jadus declares he's going to take a thousand of his followers away on his flagship, spreading his philosophy across the Empire. That's normal Jadus stuff.
If you're me, you'll be sitting there hung up on the fact that his flagship is named the Dominator, because the BDSM vibes are hilariously unsubtle.
What none of them know at this point is that Jadus has packed the Dominator full of explosives, which the player character's starter missions actually were responsible for securing. But we're talking about destroying a massive ship here, surely someone suspected help from the inside?
Well, with how utterly awful Jadus was to be around, nobody who knew him really found it odd that a well-connected, traditionalist, isolationist terrorist group would try to blow him up. Jadus himself says they have aid from within the government. Hilariously, I'm not sure if anyone asked him who, because the answer is him.
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But in their defense, everyone in Intelligence was kept distracted because Jadus made the utterly unhinged demand that placed the defense of the capital city's power grid in the hands of the player character, a newbie who hasn't even gotten a cool codename yet.
So when the Dominator blows up with Jadus on board, that's surprising, it means the terrorists are an imminent threat to the Empire, but really, what's so bad about getting rid of Jadus?
Enter Darth Zhorrid, his daughter, sole apprentice and heir, and oh boy she's already electrocuting people
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We don't know who's to blame for Zhorrid's zhorrible name—it could be Jadus, it could be one she chose for herself. But we know Jadus is the one responsible for why she's Like This. Or rather, we learn, during what's frankly one of the most distressing scenes in the Agent plotline, which is saying something.
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[Video Description: A video I took of Zhorrid's last scene before you enter Act 1's endgame, and content warning. Content warning. She's not in a good way, mostly because of a lifetime of mental health problems brought on by Jadus. Skip it if you need to, it's summarized below. /Description]
Jadus used some literally operatic cruelty to break Zhorrid's mind, but the results evidently weren't what he wanted—when she became irrationally destructive and impulsive as a result, he essentially abandoned her. She mentions that he was always ruthless with himself, identifying and attempting to eliminate his own faults whenever he failed at something. That included Zhorrid herself.
When she takes over her father's Dark Council seat, she's an unprepared mess, and she knows it. She can't keep a hold of Jadus' resources, which the rest of the Council are quick to start stealing from her. To Imperial Intelligence, her top priority is to find out who killed her father, because she wanted to do it first.
Jadus, meanwhile, used his own monstrous strength in the Force to not be incinerated in the destruction of the Dominator. In fact, he held together a large enough portion of the ship that two hundred people were saved with him, covertly transported to another capital ship running silent in deep space.
And because breaking people isn't just something you do with family, Jadus spends the next couple of months driving them all insane.
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It's no wonder that years later, when an ancient, eldritch Sith collective encounters the Agent player character, they attempt to recruit the agent on the sole basis of "you were once in the vicinity of Darth Jadus, and we like his vibes."
With Zhorrid's flameout keeping the Council and Intelligence distracted, Jadus's terrorist underlings—who are still pretty sure they actually did kill him—can continue production of these cool technoorganic death satellites he gave them the plans for ages ago. Pay no attention to the fact that this sort of merging of machine and unnatural flesh is usually an ancient Dark Side thing! Everything seems to be going great, and hey what's that player character-shaped person doing over there
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The agent, now sporting the very cool codename Cipher Nine, manages to take out a big chunk of the terrorist group's organizational structure, and steal half of the control codes for the death satellites. Jadus didn't see this coming, but he has a solution: bring them to his horrorfest vacation spot and offer them a promotion.
And here's where he starts to start getting uncomfortably close to the fourth wall: Jadus basically states that he didn't realize Cipher Nine was important before, but he won't make that mistake again. Come be his herald. The Hand of Jadus, which is a very cool title for Star Wars folks of a particular age, because it makes you feel like Mara Jade. Give him the command codes, and he'll functionally take over the Empire, and overturn the old Blood Purity laws that kept aliens and slaves from becoming citizens, and also he'll improve their spiritual lives by beginning an 'Epoch of Terror'—
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[Video Description: A Cthulhu Mythos parody Christmas carol, "Joy To The World" replaced with "Death To The World, Cthulhu's come. Let Earth! Abhor! This thiiiing!". I don't get to pull these out very often, so here's my excuse. Let me tell you, there are carols that I cannot get through without accidentally falling into singing these instead. "God rest ye merry gentlemen, let everything dismay, remember Great Cthulhu shall rise up from R'lyeh—" /Description]
One of the most delightfully maddening things about Jadus as a character is that he mixes perfectly reasonable and even laudable ideas with pure eldritch nonsense. If Cthulhu were about to rise from the depths of R'lyeh, to awaken the Great Old Ones and drive the world mad under the crushing weight of their very existence, Jadus would be messing with labor laws so everyone could take time off work for the holiday.
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At this point, the player has a choice. One of the most impactful in the entire game, actually: Do you let him win? Because you can actually take this deal. Maybe your character believes the Empire is so moribund that it needs to be pushed into collapse. May they've been pushed to madness themself by what they've experienced to get there. Maybe they earnestly believe Jadus's mix of structural reform and transcendental religion is good and necessary. You can give him the control codes, and allow him to ascend to even greater power, upon a tide of destruction that shall henceforth be known as Eradication Day.
Or you could not do that. I'll get back around to the above option in a second, but, y'know, most people who aren't me probably don't say "I like your vibe, let's see where this goes." This is a madman. Even if your character believes the Empire needs change, does it need him? Probably not! You've seen what he did to his daughter, and to the survivors of the two hundred he brought with him for his Deluxe Event Horizon Experience. They're not doing so great.
But how to deal with him? Jadus is generally acknowledged as the second most powerful Sith in the Empire, after the Emperor himself. The Emperor is, essentially, a god. Your character is a covert operative with a cool spaceship and some James Bond gadgets.
And because the game's power balance has been altered so completely over its long life, allowing players to just focus on the story if they so choose, you can pretty easily win his boss fight. Welp.
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[Video Description: From YT user FemaleKay IsBest, beginning at the decision point and skips over the boss fight because really it's perfunctory anyway. I always find it somewhere between funny and unnerving, how quickly Jadus goes from audibly pissed off to calmly biding his time while he waits for his chance to escape. He's still angry enough to bite someone if he had the mask off, but he's devastatingly practical for a mandman. /Description]
In story though, you don't kill him. A fleet's on the way to back you up, you just distract him long enough to trap him in a place where he can't escape their bombardment. If it actually happened. Because at that point, Jadus surrenders.
Huh. So he's still alive. Headed for execution at the hands of the other Sith, but that's the last you hear. They never actually confirm if they killed him or not.
Or, alternatively, you can give him the command codes to distract him, then sabotage the ship, rigging it to explode. Jadus escapes, but without the command codes—he can't maintain control of his superweapon deterrent against his foes. Again, that's the last you hear of him.
Or or, extra-alternatively, you can simply convince Jadus that he's lost. No really! You can give him a full tactical assessment of his situation, how you've got all the angles covered, and shoot down his counter-arguments. He'll push you hard. He'll actually start to sound angry, the first and last strong emotion he'll ever show you.
And then he just calms down and declares that you've won, and he's leaving now. He hates you, but respects you.
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[Video description: From YT user Invisible Shadow, talking Jadus into giving up. You can skip a few bossfights in the game by talking your way around them, but this ends an entire third of the game. I've never done this route, but I won't deny, it is extremely satisfying to watch. /Description]
Everyone is left wondering what in the fine flying fuck just happened.
No matter what you do, Jadus survives, something that many players actually missed—if they chose the most bog-standard, videogame-y path, they assumed he died off-screen. I've seen some of them actually misremember killing him personally. Nope! His survival was implied from day one, it was teased a bit in the expansions, but now it's been (pretty much) confirmed: Jadus is alive, like the biggest, most unkillable cockroach in the galaxy. Good for him! And gooder for him, if you let him win.
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[Video Description: From YT user xLetalis, featuring their Agent joining Darth Jadus. Content warning again, because you do get a boss fight in this version: it's Zhorrid. Other decisions end with her dead offscreen, but in this one, Jadus orders you to go kill her. Again, worst dad of the game. /Description]
Because this isn't an empty choice. SWTOR is limited in how much it can show differences visually, because unlike later titles such as Elder Scrolls Online, it can't do visual alterations to game maps shared with other characters. What it can do is alter dialog, and quite a lot of characters have something to say about the new regime, and your place in it.
And off in special little instanced corners of the game, you can actually get special scenes that nobody else does. This is where Jadus lurks. What's he doing? Stuff.
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No really, we don't actually hear much about his overarching plans. There's cult rituals going on in the streets, he's successfully traumatized an entire Empire, but he's not derailing the overarching plot of the game, because he's made a strategic decision: he can't fight the Emperor. That would be suicide. And the Emperor wants a war with the Republic and the Jedi for some reason, so Jadus won't stop that. If it was up to him? Doesn't seem like it would happen! Jadus never actually mentions the Jedi. He only makes passing mention of the Republic.
Let's note that at this point in Star Wars as a piece of fiction, the one thing the Sith had always been so down for was destroying the Jedi and toppling the Republic. The fact that Jadus manifestly did not give a shit about either is part of what made him so strange.
What he does care about is why the Emperor is doing this. While most of the Agent plot proceeds as normal through its second act, you do receive an order partway through: steal encrypted data from the Emperor's guards. Help Jadus determine the Emperor's plans.
And at the start of Act Three, Jadus declares that he's discovered what the Emperor's doing. He also declares that he's leaving the game.
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[Video Description: from YT user The Youtube Acolyte, playing as an Agent named Thrauw'n because everyone who plays Chiss, including myself, has a crush on Thrawn. Anyway--Man just fuckin! Leaves! Absolute skeleton meme behavior. Also, Jadus can mention here "I see the shape of the galaxy as only five others can", which is a line that is NEVER explained. His closest philosophical match is found in the Dread Masters, but there's six of them. Candidates I've seen include the Emperor, Lord Scourge, Revan, Kreia, the Exile, the Jedi Knight and Consular player characters, Darth Malgus, Darth Acina, the Shroud, the First Son, and the list goes on because nobody is even sure what Jadus MEANS here about 'the shape of the galaxy'. Do I think this line will be followed up on? Absolutely not! I firmly believe it will continue to stand as a goddamn mystery. Tune back in after his storyline updates to find out if Jadus decided to mess with me specifically. /Description]
No, really. Jadus just abandons the Empire and leaves. Sure, he leaves you with enhanced authority, though he cautions you that it does paint a massive target on your back, and gives you his blessing to continue trying to unravel a massive conspiracy—possibly because he's realized the conspirators could accidentally help trigger the end of all life in the galaxy. Whoops.
Because what Jadus doesn't actually tell you is what the Emperor is up to. The Emperor is working on a ritual that makes use of death on a massive scale to trigger a chain reaction that will kill everything and feed its life force into himself, becoming a truly transcendent and eternal being. In fact, if you're playing the Agent plot, you never get explicitly told about this. You just show up to work one day and the rest of the Sith have collectively declared Fuck That and no longer acknowledge the Emperor's authority.
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Why didn't Jadus reveal this? Well, he's not exactly popular among the Sith, given how he's a weird nerd who has orbital death lasers pointed at their house. They probably wouldn't believe him. His dialog also gives off the hilarious vibe that he knows this is the start of Act Three and that he's a second-tier villain, this is the point at which the plot would traditionally kill him off to show how serious the situation is. He's not a fan of that, so he elects to go find somewhere sufficiently off-screen that the plot can't touch him. This maniac is somehow the most genre-savvy villain in the game.
Also, he does make the very concerning comment that "whether [the Emperor] succeeds or fails, I grow stronger." I have no idea if he's lying or not, but most of his dialog is at least his truth to some extent or another. Does he believe he could hijack the ritual as a last resort? Maybe! Who knows! No matter what you as the player have done up until this point, Jadus has reacted in whatever way he thinks will ensure maximum success and his own survival. He obviously wasn't planning on just dying in the Emperor's ritual, so he had something he was working on to avoid that.
We never find out what that might be. Frankly, I'm not sure the writers truly knew what that was, because they didn't need to. His arc was done, and he could leave just as strangely as he'd done everything in the first place.
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And that was the end of Jadus for a very long time. In the first few expansions, you could continue to invoke your title as the Hand of Jadus, if that was the path you chose. After that, the plot folded together in a way that smoothed out the differences between player characters in many ways. Oh, sure, people with history with you will react differently. If you're playing an Agent, you alone can continue to hang out with one of your former companions: a nice young man who's packed full of ants, who's possibly your lover and is good friends with a secret agent doctor were-zombie.
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I really will have to ramble about the Agent companions at some point.
But one thing that was consistent for everybody: when an extremely weird crisis strikes the galaxy, one of the people considered as a culprit is Darth Jadus.
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For those who haven't played the Agent plot, this is a "Who?" moment. He never appears in any other plotline. He is only the sleep paralysis demon of folks at Imperial Intelligence, in part because his potential plot ramifications are too large to account for. Canon probably defaults to him failing in his takeover, but most Dark Side-aligned player plots make all the Dark Side choices canon, and it's hard to get Dark Side-ier than allowing tens of thousands to die so that "all people will revel in fear and degradation. These prizes will no longer be hoarded by Sith."
I cannot stress enough how unhinged this man's goals are.
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[Video Description: The new trailer, which gives us the one glimpse we have of New and Improved Jadus so far. Fun fact, Malgus is 77 and Jadus is 65 here, because the Sith are just inherently incapable of retiring from their shenanigans, ever. Vowrawn is 93 at this point and entirely powered by shenanigans alone. I was mixed on Jadus's new look, until a friend pointed out he looks like some sort of emerging plant, and I realized the collar reminded me a bit of a Rafflesia. Parasitic, grows to titanic proportions, and smells like rotting meat. So I've come around on it, obviously. Malgus' voiceover is cut to be vaguing about "corrupt doctrines" in regards to Jadus, which I find hilarious. He did technically embezzle Imperial funds to research his superweapons, but the rest of that was all outsourced. Unless we're talking about "corruption" in terms of "messing with people's brains", in which case, yes. He do be out there, corrupting the minds of the youth. And everybody who isn't youth. Possibly even some rocks, if they're smart enough. /Description]
So, that's where we are at this point. I have no idea how things will go from here. My hope is that Jadus will return as the highly strategic, transcendental weirdo he always was before. It's actually been fun having him just out there somewhere, because it's meant the mystique couldn't be messed with. I'd actually accept it if they brought him back to kill him, but ideally if it happened in such a baffling fashion that you're left uncertain if he intended for that to happen.
But before the game potentially expands on him and his motivations, I want to get out a couple of my own interpretation of what we've seen: Jadus is unique among the Sith. Among the Empire. And he is not yet perfect. And he wants both to change.
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Something happened in his past that pushed him deep into the Dark Side, something that broke his world apart and reformed it into something new. Since then, he's tried and failed to explain it to others. He doesn't have a perfect understanding of what happened to him, how to lead others to the same state, or how to push himself further. As a result, he tried to raise his daughter in such a way to induce the same revelations he experienced, and failed. That failure took years, and he couldn't afford such a costly loss again.
So instead of the personal, controlled approach, he would mass-produce the shattering of minds. The whole point of the drama and wanton destruction of his plan was to traumatize billions, trading precision for sheer quantity. The vast majority would fail, becoming fuel for his continued growth in power. But surely, someone would react as he had.
This obviously isn't a selfless enterprise on his part. He is a ruthlessly practical lunatic, and when he reaches the limits of his capability, he abandons the project. We don't know if he succeeded in what he wanted from his takeover. We don't actually know if he took anyone with him when he left. He made it clear that his Hand would not follow him where he was going, though we know some in Intelligence kept sending him reports that received no reply, and we have some potential indication that he was still actively monitoring his Hand's activities. Which at that point mostly involved getting the stuffing knocked out of them by the entire galaxy all at once, which Jadus probably considered character-building.
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Do I have any idea whether these are intended reads on the character? No. I'm not privy to the authorial decisions made during the writing of Mr. Darth "Under my rule, all people will revel in fear and degradation" Jadus. I don't know if the original intent will be preserved either, thirteen years down the road.
But man. Man. What a transfixingly weird guy they've created here. Jadus is memorable because he twists so much of what we've come to expect from Sith into something different, with enough left unexplained to keep you wondering. Or at least, keep me wondering. Let's be real, Jadus as a villain probably appeals most to a very specific subset of people with goth tendencies and spicy brains, who look at HP Lovecraft and think "what if these cosmic horrors were more inclusive in the worst way possible?"
I'm glad to see him back. I'm afraid of what might happen with him. He's poised to drive me insane, no matter what happens. And that's precisely how he'd prefer it.
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rin-hanarin · 6 months ago
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I realized that I've never addressed the elephant in Lucanis's room, also known as his romance plot, as a "Had been delusional about him for months before release" individual, so here's a surprisingly long rant/summary of how I felt about it in the process of playing the game.
As a Rook de Riva player, I obviously loved "Coffee with the Crows": we met Illario, joked about haha three Crows talking about nothing, talked business, Rook and Lucanis had a nice moment getting to know each other better outside of being teammates, Rook de Riva's background was acknowledged again, it really felt like a nice bonding moment, right?
Thennn a whole lot of nothing happens during any of the conversations between them, huh. Lucanis doesn't acknowledge flirting, which is fine, take your time bud, you'll get there; you keep pushing being supportive, he ignores you, you deal with his personal stuff for him one (1) time, and in my case he then proceeds to ignore Rook for 10+ hours of pure game time while busy talking to Neve at every opportunity until I finally get one (1) dialogue option to "express romantic interest in Lucanis".
And let me express my honest innermost feelings on the matter:
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Not only did it feel like Lucanis genuinely couldn't care less about Rook even as a friend, it also felt like Rook was forcing Lucanis into something he simply wasn't interested in and that we were just getting in the way of his relationship with Neve. It was genuinely unpleasant to experience in a videogame that is supposed to be wish fulfillment and whatnot, and let me tell you, it was especially jarring because Dragon Age games also have a tendency of occasionally making you feel like the most special little protagonist known to Thedas, at the very least to your companions who you're supposedly building bonds with.
I loved hangout events in this game, too, I was so happy to just have these conversations about whatever with companions, have these little one-on-one moments with them that genuinely felt like walks with friends (especially with my bro my bestie my homie Davrin), and with Lucanis it started and ended with the coffee date. His fears and doubts about Rook later are never addressed, and lol lmao even, yeah, why would they be, when it feels like he barely acknowledges Rook exists outside of accompanying him to deal with his problems, none of which need Rook there? There's no reason outside of gameplay for him to ask Rook and not, say, his favorite Neve he talks about everything to? Somehow a lot of times when I hoped for any sort of dialogue with him, I was met with him talking about something very personal like his current feelings about Illario to Neve, like, isn't Rook supposed to know anything about anything, or are we just his convenient weird coworker he sometimes asks favours from?
We persevere though and keep supporting Lucanis, and can you take a wild guess what was waiting for me after like 40 hours of the game and after the infamous "kabedon assassin style" scene? Yeah bro, Lucanis just happened to talk to Neve. I wish I was making this shit up. My coping strategy was to come up with an entire jealousy subplot for my Rook because if I have to feel like I'm in the shittiest unrequited situationship of a triangular shape, I might as well do it on my own terms, right? It feels petty and stupid because as a player I like Neve, too, she's one of the coolest (no pun intended) characters, but as Rook, and Rook de Riva making an obvious choice especially? Yeah, let's just say this relationship fucking sucked for a while.
So after many trials and tribulations we're finally back with Inner Demons, and yeah, Neve is there again, I couldn't even give a shit at that point, and I'll be real here, the locking in didn't feel like we went through angsty slowburn or that we earned Lucanis' trust. Remember DA2's Fenris situation? Because I suddenly did, and surely one of many, many Neve banters I had to eavesdrop on could be sacrificed to have one or two banters that acknowledged Lucanis's anything towards Rook at all?
Also, Spite? Spite seemingly likes Rook more than Lucanis does. In between "It's so over" and "We're so back" in the Fade Ossuary it feels like somehow Rook gets more bonding time with Spite, which is kinda crazy to me.
We are so back though! As I mentioned, I was a "delusional before release" individual, I am perfectly capable of filling the gaps and extrapolating meaning from implications, and here's where one of the most infuriating things is: the rest of the romance is good, too! I can write whatever the hell I want between the beginning and the end of it, but like, why should I? How should I go about it, when in my game I was under the impression that Lucanis would rather just spend time with anyone other than Rook for seemingly no reason in particular, because there's simply nothing there? The fact that none of my pre-release ideas or comics even necessarily contradict anything about Lucanis or his romance as it is now is more telling than impressive honestly.
So where do I land with this exactly? Well, mostly in the glorious Fanon Land where I've been making my silly comics the whole time anyway. The highs are high, I love what they did at the end and how stable, protective and devoted Lucanis is, but the lows made me salty as shit and I wish I didn't have to feel that way to begin with. I wish I didn't have to connect the dots and joke about how badly Lucanis sucks at this and "Let's go girl give us nothing." And yes, I know about writer lay-offs, rewrites, restarts, etc etc, and it's a miracle that this game came out at all, but it hardly matters when you're just trying to do the good old datesim part of a Dragon Age game and end up feeling like a third wheel while trying very hard to get anything out of the character you're interested in.
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factual-fantasy · 3 months ago
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27 Asks! Thank you! :}} 💞
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@peaspods
I might not be understanding, but I'm imagining this as people opening up commissions so people can give them money and they can turn around and donate that money to me..
I fear that this would create the opportunity to scam people.. "I'm taking commissions on behalf of Factual Fantasy! They're very sick so please commission me!" only for them to run away with the money they make..
I've been thinking a lot about setting up some kind of commission/donation thing because I'm starting to kind'a need the money.. but idk, I'm just kind'a run down and need some time to keep thinking about it. Thank you very much though <:)))
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@zecromgen5
Thank you very much! :) And I've been hanging in there.. there hasn't been much improvement to my health or my mental state. The fact that in April it will officially been over a year since my health started to decline, and the fact that I'm going to spend my birthday at home collapsed on the couch has made me feel very sad <:( But I'm doing my best to work on it.. I'm hoping this new advice from my doctor helps me feel better <:)
And something good HAS happened actually, I got my tablet/FireAlpaca to work again! :))
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XDD SJKFJSH AWW! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD
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I've only seen a bit of it from Markiplier. So far I'm 50/50. Somethings I like and others I don't care for 😅
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@neo-metalscottic
Thank you so much! :D 'm glad you've liked my recent artwork!! :}}}}
Also for Homes eyes, that was just meant to represent its oppressive presence and the fact that its watching them in that moment.. 👁️👁️
And I don't have any plans for any of the neighbors or Wally to figure out the house is alive. My AU is more like "a day in the life of" thing. Having someone discover Home is alive would move the plot forward. Which I don't feel like doing <XDD
Now communication... Home understands the concept, but he has no way of communicating other than creaking the floorboards and slamming doors..
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I've heard about the well. That could work for Cliffjumper and Breakdown maybe.. and the twins perhaps.? But wouldn't they have to have Tailgates body in order to revive him? Hmmm.. idk actually,,
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I've watched the bayverse movies, most of Prime and a few other things here and there. I didn't mind the bayverse movies that much, but I can see why a lot of people don't like them <XD
I just imaging trying to consume more than one Transformers media would be a lot to take on.. and I also don't like the animation styles of most other transformers shows 😅
(That's actually how I decided to watch Prime. I took a look at all the shows and went "this one looks ugly, this one looks ugly,, this one looks REALLY ugly.. Oh, this one doesn't look half bad. TFP it is then!")
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@acreaturecalledkyfa
I've watched Markipliers first video on it. So far I'm not sure how I feel about those two 😅
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The way I immediately opened YouTube and went looking for it XDD
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@fandomcenteral (Link in ask)
Thank you so much! :DD This will come in handy!
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@mason-gaylord
Aw! Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰
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@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you
Jangles would be a helicopter probably, Gerald would be a tank, Cici would be a Miata and Bibi would be a slightly raised up Miata XDD
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Aw, I'm honored that you miss them <:}} Though I don't know if I'll draw them anytime soon.. I'm really not into inserted OCs anymore <:(
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I'm waiting on Markiplier to release more videos on it <XD
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@fadlingartisanfreakwinner
I like to imagine that Pokémon can learn dozens of moves. But 4 is the limit for official Pokémon battles. So any wild Pokémon in my comics can use/learn as many as they want :0
And yeah, they had that chat eventually. I just never got around to drawing it 😅
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@wolfie-777
Nah nah its just iced tea XDDD
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@whereismycupofcoffee
:DDD Thank you so much!! :}}}}
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AAAA THANKYOU SO MCUHH!! :DDDD
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@nuggybee
Yeahh,, Sky has its ups and downs. I'm currently in one of its downs. It seems like I'm let down by everything they're releasing 😓
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@smithanonsworld
I feel like I've never seen a rabbit that color... its so cute 😭💞💞💞
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@heaventhehedgi3
That sounds like me! Though I don't draw Octonauts anymore 😅
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I'll keep it in mind! :0
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🥹🥹🥹Aw... that's so sweet! Thank you so much!! 😭💞💞
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@captain-skyler1987
You made an account just to follow me? :DD Aw that's so sweet! :) Thank you!
Also I'm sorry to hear you got the flu :(( I hope you're better by now!
I also have not played Dandy's world 😅
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@stargirldrawsx3
The first thing that came to mind was very anxious all the time 😅
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@network-warrior-01
Ah, that was an April fools post. <XD There is no drawing
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 8 months ago
Note
Good day to you.
Can you write a top reader w/ bottom G!P Donna. Where Donna actually has a high sex drive, so the reader would drink some sort of aphrodisiac and accidentally put in a high dosage, which makes Donna unable to keep up; despite the high sex drive and comes up with a solution(I'll leave that up to you)
I really love your works & thank you for keeping the fandom alive in my eyes. 🫀
Yesss!!!!! Thank you for your words of appretiation and for your request, it was so funny to write!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))
Overwhelming desire
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,
Word count: 7,596
Summary: You maybe need some help...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
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You closed your eyes to deepen the pleasure you were feeling. A wet, warm and, as always, overwhelming pleasure.
Her thrusts were soft, but determined, not wasting time but enjoying that improvised passion surrounded by wooden limbs, by the dim and almost sinister lighting of the old workshop.
“Donna…” you moaned, clinging to her as your body rose and fell slowly, guided by her hands, by the slow and hot rhythm of her moans.
Your body enjoyed it. It shuddered every time your walls clung to the lady in black, every time you gave her that obscene and hot hug. The only thing you could say was her name. The only thing you could think about was her. Donna was everything to you, and you were to her too.
Her hands caressed your back, guiding your hips to dance to the music of her passion. You were in heaven, but, somehow, you couldn't reach it. It was a curious irony; pleasure dominated you, your movements were smooth and sure, as if there was nothing different about that old chair.
In part, you weren't wrong. It wasn't the first time that one of your visits to the doll maker ended that way, melting your bodies into one, making love in a wild but tender way. You couldn't get tired of that expression of the brunette about her feelings, that lustful and hot way she had to say with her body, and with her soul, everything you meant to her.
“Amore mio…” she sighed, handling your body effortlessly, sliding into your wet walls without having to ask permission to do so.
Your body always welcomed her, always offered her that warm and comfortable refuge.
“Honey…” you murmured, noticing how her erection moved erratically, how the rhythm of her hips fought against yours, how little by little she lost control and the soft caresses on your back became strong grips on the fabric of your dress.
Lady Beneviento always had that problem, the fear that you would abandon her when she needed you the most, when the heat of your body became irresistibly tempting, even addictive, when hers asked to be released among messy moans.
You would never do it. You would never separate from her. It didn't matter under what circumstances. It didn't matter if you were making love, cooking, simply reading or sleeping. Donna was everything to you, you would never abandon her. You would always please her. Your body would always receive hers as a divine gift.
Your body stopped moving, letting Donna finish what she started, letting her to move at will, to do with you what she wanted. It wasn't a whim, or a desire for the lady in black to dominate your improvised passions.
No, not at all. You were always the one on top, the one who guided her movements, the one who enjoyed listening to her moans, the one who played with her body inside yours the way you wanted.
But that afternoon in the workshop, that sexual dance of clothed, sweaty, passionate bodies, was a bit different from the rest, and you knew why.
“(Y/N)… I’m… Sto per…” Donna stammered, squeezing your hips, holding you in her favorite position when, with a final moan, she released herself inside of you, caressing your body with the heat of her seed, filling you with it, claiming you, tensing with the pleasure of that unmatched sensation.
Panting replaced moans. She pulled away so she could smile at you, so she could tell you with her kisses she loved you while the moisture struggled to stay between your legs.
“Donna…” you sighed, hugging her in a much more comfortable position, leaning on her shoulder.
Your face sketched a tender smile and your eyes closed again. The sweet sound of her shy laugh reached your ears as she held you against her, gently rocking you, coming out of you with an obscene sound.
She sighed, relaxing even more, kissing everything she could reach: your face, your hair, your mouth…
Her bright eye looked at you lovingly, tenderly, far from that aura of lust she had minutes before. But there was something different, something in her gaze, in her slightly furrowed brow that told you there was something wrong.
“What's wrong, darling?” you asked when you saw that spark of concern in her eye, when, after a last kiss on her lips, you got off her lap, uncomfortable with the humidity, wanting to get rid of it under the hot water of a shower. “Didn't you enjoy it?”
“Mm?” she murmured with a distracted look, as if she was focused on your face, on your movements. “Oh, of course, of course I enjoyed it, tesoro... You always make me enjoy it so much...”
Her voice calmed you, as did the hand that reached out to caress yours gently, pulling your body so you would come closer.
“What's the problem?” you asked, with a softer tone, enjoying the softness of her skin.
Donna looked away embarrassed, shaking her head, moving her lips as she always did when she tried to say something and she couldn't.
“Um, I… I haven't noticed that you…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze, squeezing your hand a bit tighter. “You haven't… You haven't… You haven't had an orgasm.”
You smiled falsely, moving closer to caress her cheek, to erase from her gaze any hint of doubt or insecurity.
“Of course I have, my love,” you said with a broken voice, nodding, with your radiant smile ceasing to shine little by little.
“Why are you lying to me?” Donna asked, with a darker look, with seriousness in her features. You should stop trying to deceive her. You couldn't do it, not anymore. “Don't take me for a fool, I know when you have it, and you haven't had it, your body hasn't tensed up.”
“Oh…” you sighed, closing your eyes, blushing due to your lie, searching in your mind for the best possible explanation to that reality you could no longer deny. “I'm sorry, Donna, I didn't mean to lie to you.”
Your apologies were heard with an attentive, almost angry look. You knew it wasn't your fault, you knew that anger, that frustration for not having been able to please you, was directed at herself.
“It was my fault, right?” the brunette said, changing anger for sadness, with her cheeks red from shame, for what she believed, had been a failure.
“Oh, no, no, honey,” you said quickly, removing the shadow of her demons that was already beginning to hover over her head and bending down to be at her height, playing with both of her hands.
“Haven't I lasted long enough?” she asked again, with a calmer voice, surely distracted by your caresses.
“It's not that, honey...” you murmured with a confident voice, willing to find the best way to explain the problem sincerely. “It's just that... Well, I already had two orgasms this morning...”
She watched you, probably looking for the lie again.
“Usually that's not an impediment for you to have more,” the lady commented distrustfully, sighing, keeping her shame back in her underwear. “If I've done something wrong, just...”
“Donna,” you said with a more severe voice, putting your hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at your face. “You haven't done anything wrong. You've been great, as always, understood?”
She nodded, scared by the abruptness of your behavior. At least you had made it clear...
“O-okay,” she stammered, nodding slowly. You sighed in relief, kissing her quickly and slowly getting up. “But... Hey, come, come here,” she said, pulling you again, sitting you on her lap.
You couldn't help but smile tenderly, as always when you received those affectionate gestures, those soft kisses on your neck.
“Mm... Donna,” you laughed, feeling the tickling of her lips on your skin, giving you shivers.
“I'm not going to let you go, tesoro...” she murmured, caressing your legs under your dress, getting closer to your soaked underwear. “Shh, let me take care of this...”
You opened your eyes wide, automatically shaking your head. No, you'd had enough.
“Umm, no, no, it's not necessary,” you said, getting off of her again, leaving her with the same surprised and confused expression. “I'm fine...”
“But I want to please you,” she protested, trying to pull you back. “I can do it without my penis, really, trust me...”
You laughed nervously. Well, she didn't have to lie. She was like you a while back. Even though that offer was tempting, truly interesting, your body although always willing, that day was exhausted, tired.
“Donna, no...” you said nervously, gesturing with your hand. “I prefer, I prefer to relax.”
The lady looked at you curiously, tilting her head in a funny way, but finally, she nodded, with a frustrated gesture on her face.
“As you wish, (Y/N),” Donna finally whispered.
You nodded with a smile, approaching to rub her back affectionately, stealing a kiss on her cheek.
“I'm going to take a shower and then, if you want, I'll prepare (Y/N)'s famous meatballs for you,” you commented, whispering in her ear and earning another shy laugh, another dazzling smile. “No, no, no, no, don't even try to deny it... I know you love them...”
“Mm, maybe it's because I told you the recipe,” she murmured, with a mischievous smile.
“Oh, maybe it's, but you haven't named them, honey,” you joked, moving away from her with a sigh.
“W-Wait,” Donna interrupted, just when you were already walking towards the exit. “I, I need a shower too, can I join you?”
“Oh, um...” you said, with a confused look. You knew how that shower was going to end, how your body would be taken by her desire again. Shyly, you shook your head. “Mm, no, I... I need some... Peace,” you said in a low voice, transmitting sincerity with your gaze, not cowardice.
“Oh, well, va bene,” she said, apparently without giving it any importance, getting up from the table and grabbing you by the waist, kissing you slowly before separating your paths in that dark basement.
The hot water ran down your body slowly, relaxing the unfinished tension in your muscles. Although you didn't give importance to the fact that you couldn't release yourself, you couldn't stop thinking about it.
Normally your body was always versatile, adapting to all the situations that appeared in front of it, to all those outbursts of passion. Lately, it seemed to be having a hard time, and you had no doubt why.
You, a simple villager, born into a humble, hard-working family, loyal to the Black Gods and Mother Miranda, had changed your life completely. You wouldn’t longer be the boring and unhappy wife of an idiot, and your life would not be boring and flat, meaningless, irrelevant.
You never saw those options as valid for someone like you and, as if fate agreed with you, it offered you a way out of the tedious routine.
Donna Beneviento, Lord, servant of the Black Gods, seemed like that sign you were waiting for all your life, the sign that told you that your life would never be the same again.
Sick, disturbed, dangerous woman… Adjectives that always accompanied the dark lady in black, that shadow walking like a ghost, who rarely let herself be seen. Curiosity had always been one of your greatest virtues, or one of your greatest defects, you couldn't say exactly what.
That curiosity coming from the boredom to which your life was condemned, made you want to know something about that strange woman, the darkest, youngest, and most dangerous of the Lords.
Everything you believed in blurred like a sigh, with a hoarse and soft voice, with a melodic accent coming out of that black veil.
You, believing that true love was a divinity far removed from the Black Gods, that those true feelings were not programmed for you, you saw yourself completely lost in those soft hands, in that tone of voice, in that shyness, that sweetness that you, only you, were able to see in Lady Beneviento.
Nothing, nothing could make those feelings fade away, not even the deformity of her face, not even that stupid scar that Donna hid under the black veil was able to hide her beauty.
She was a sick woman, yes, self-conscious, ashamed of her appearance, of her body. Luckily, you came into her life like the light that was missing in hers, like the voice that repeated over and over again how perfect she was for you.
Everything was going well, it was perfect. You loved her, she loved you. You lived with her in that beautiful, dark mansion. Everything seemed idyllic, until your flaws came to light again.
You weren't interested in love until you met Donna, but you had shared moments of meaningless passion with some of the girls in the village. Sex was something natural, necessary, and for you, it was nothing but an entertainment.
That thought was distorted by the desire to love Donna, by the desire to complete the piece of the puzzle your relationship was. She didn't care about making love, for her it was something shameful, something she didn't think she was capable of doing.
Her eternal loneliness, her unusual body… It loomed over the lady in black, forcing her to reject all your advances.
But that, obviously, didn't last forever. When finally, one random night, after a random romantic dinner, you managed to get rid of her fears, put aside her insecurities and make love to her for the first time.
It was an amazing experience, even for you, a more experienced girl. Donna was gentle, soft, kind, romantic. Yes, of course, that was what it meant to make love to someone you loved.
But it all soon came back to haunt you. Your insistence, the arguments you had with Donna before she let herself get carried away by passion, had the opposite effect to what they had intended.
The carnal pleasure of entering your body was something new for her, something she hadn’t been lucky enough to enjoy. Tasting you, touching the pleasure with her own hands, experiencing it in her own body instead of imagining it, was a turning point for the doll maker.
It was like an addictive drug, once you try it, you can't stop. Something similar happened to Donna.
Morning, noon, afternoon, night, dawn... Any time of day was good for her, any time was ideal to let herself be carried away by desire, to love you. It was an almost excessive, obsessive passion, but one that you welcomed.
Her sexual desire seemed to have no limits. She had stopped being the prudish, chaste and shameful Donna, to become a love machine, a bundle of nerves wanting to make love to you whenever her body asked for it.
You got what you wanted, but also, more than you asked for. That radical change in the brunette could be a simple phase, an unleashing, a release of that passion contained by all those years of loneliness.
It was not a phase, she continued wanting more, and more…
It was not something bad for you. You enjoyed each one of those moments, but your body… Your body had been crying out for rest for a long time. All your muscles were tense. Sleep dominated your daily routine. You began to feel overwhelmed.
Talking to her might seem like the best option, but it wasn't possible. You knew her. You knew her mental problems, her insecurities. You couldn't just say "no", that would make poor Donna think you didn't love her anymore.
On the other hand, you wanted your body to relax, to stop being that weak. Donna wasn't a selfish woman. She liked to hear you moan in pleasure, to see how your body writhed on hers. Her release didn't make sense to her if she couldn't get yours.
You liked her the way she was. You loved that passion, but... You would have to start looking for a solution.
It was a quiet meal. Neither of you made any comment about what had happened. Donna was not exactly the most talkative woman in the world, which made you take advantage of that quiet lunch to mull over the worries in your mind.
Really, what your body needed was a break, and you knew that. But the dark part of your mind, the lust that was indulged day after day, didn’t want to lose the pleasure of those moments.
Possible solutions flew through your head, through your thoughts. No, talking was not among the options, asking Donna for a truce could lead to a crisis, or an argument. You would have to do something, before the lady in black realized that your body could no longer bear her sexual impulse.
“Delicious, huh?” you asked amused, breaking that relaxing silence.
Donna smiled at you, nodding pleased, as always when you did something, anything for her. She was wonderful, you couldn’t fail her.
“Everything you do is delicious,” she murmured with that melodic voice that drove you crazy, that made you bite your lip involuntarily.
“How flattering...” you sighed with a tender voice, arching your eyebrows. She looked at you again, shaking her head.
“I like to flatter you,” the lady said with a serious voice, stating an unshakable truth for her.
“Mmm, I know...” you sighed, looking down, uncomfortable with the pain your body felt, feeling that little by little, that desire was disappearing from it, that her sweet words no longer had the same effect.
You needed that solution.
“The Duke will come tomorrow,” Donna said, changing the subject erratically, as always. “If you want to ask him for something specific, you still have time.”
“Oh, yes…” you said, disinterested, frowning. “I think I'll refrain from asking for contraband this time…”
“Are you sure you're okay?” Donna asked, with a more distrustful look. Naturally, it was impossible for her to forget her “failure” that easily. She was probably still worried about it.
A few loose words began to repeat themselves over and over in your mind…
Solution, Duke, contraband…
“Yes, yes,” you said, outside the dining room, outside that conversation, trying to connect the dots of the encrypted messages that your subconscious was sending. “I don't like giving you problems.”
“Schiocchezze… You know you are safe with me. You can do whatever you want,” she murmured, proud that her position as a Lord gave you possibilities unthinkable for any other villager. “Don't you want another game for that weird machine?”
“That weird machine, Donna, is called Game Boy, and it’s very funny, you should try it,” you joked, still focused on your thoughts.
“No, grazie, I prefer to enjoy the tranquility of a book, or my dolls. I don't think that thing is good for you…” she murmured amused, worried that weird machine, as she said, would steal your attention from her.
You thought it was adorable, even a machine could make her jealous.
“Tell that to the Duke,” you said amused, with the words becoming clearer in your mind. “If he didn't sell it…”
“What he doesn't sell?” Donna joked, causing a gust of cold air to hit your face, a revelation to illuminate the sentence that was floating around in your head.
The Duke might have a solution.
Yes, it seemed unlikely, and there was certainly no other way to get what you wanted naturally. A little help, maybe some herbs, a special tea, or something… Aphrodisiac, could push your body to feel that desire again, to not disappoint the lady in black, and, above all, to not make her think she had disappointed you.
For now, that was your only option.
The next day, the merchant appeared at the estate.
“I’m coming, darling,” you whispered to Donna while you read next to her, preventing her from getting up to attend to the merchant. No, she couldn't find out.
“Mm,” Donna murmured, returning her gaze to that boring book of plants.
You walked towards the door, mentally rehearsing the most discreet way to ask for what you needed.
“Miss (Y/N)… I'm glad to see that you're still in perfect condition… Or almost,” the merchant commented, with a sinister smile.
“What? What do you mean by almost?” you asked, closing the door behind you and going down the stairs, looking at yourself in case there was something strange.
“You don't look well…” he said, pointing at your face. “Aren't you sleeping well lately?”
You groaned, crossing your arms impatiently.
“What do you care?” you said with an annoyed tone, going over to grab the bags that were there for you, checking their contents. You were quite nervous, you weren't even sure if asking that extravagant man for help was a good idea.
“I care about the well-being of special clients like you, (Y/N), I wouldn't like the ghosts of my past to come and torment me,” he commented, catching the bag of coins you threw at him, pointing with his gaze at the Beneviento mansion.
“Ghosts from your past?” you asked amused, taking the objects out of the bags, examining the quality of the vegetables. “Do you have a past?”
“Oh, of course…” he whispered, counting coins.
“Ha, I doubt it,” you whispered, arching your eyebrows. “You are like any of those trees, you have always been here.”
“What does the word always mean to you?” he asked with a sinister voice.
You sighed, rolling your eyes.
“Oh, no, I don't have time for philosophical conversations,” you said with a tired voice, putting your hands on your temples.
“Don't you have time?” he asked amused, putting the coins in his carriage. “In that case… I'll leave…”
You opened your eyes wide, deciding at the last moment whether to ask that vermin for help or not.
“Wait, wait,” you said in a discreet voice, checking that there were no Donnas, or sinister dolls behind the half-open door.
The Duke stopped his act of leaving, turning slowly with a curious look.
“What do you need?” he asked in an equally discreet, almost mocking tone, imitating you. You made a gesture with your hands for him to lower his voice, getting closer to the carriage.
“Shh, don't speak loud,” you protested angrily, looking everywhere, except at those greedy eyes. “I need to ask you for something.”
“Go ahead, (Y/N), if I have it, it's yours,” he said studying your confused look.
“Hey, lower your voice…” you said nervously, playing with your hands, which were starting to sweat. “It's something… Complicated.”
“There's nothing complicated in business, Miss,” he said, laughing amused. “You ask, I'll sell it to you.”
“Okay, cut the crap,” you said with an impatient gesture. “It's not a common request, besides, I don't even know why I'm asking you.”
“I'm afraid divination isn't among my skills… You'll have to be more specific,” the man sighed, also starting to get impatient.
“Ugh,” you groaned, your cheeks red from embarrassment. “Okay. You sell all kinds of medicinal teas, right?”
“See how you didn't look good?” the merchant asked, satisfied by your question, picking up a small box full of bags and jars. “Tell me what symptoms you have… Maybe a cold? Fever? Upset stomach?”
“No, no,” you shook your head, making him shut up and stop moving that box, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Migraines?” he asked curiously, as if he suspected something. “Nausea?”
“No, damn it,” you hissed nervously, looking all the time at the crack in the door.
“Oh, okay… Maybe this is what you’re looking for…” the Duke murmured, taking out another object and throwing it at you in an unpleasant manner.
“What? A pregnancy test? Really?” you asked annoyed, feeling a shiver with that object in your hand. “No, it's not that. I hope so…”
“Be more specific, I beg you,” the Duke whispered, with that same amused tone.
“Okay, okay,” you said, running a hand over your forehead. “Aphrodisiac, I need an aphrodisiac, have I been specific enough?”
“Oh…” he hummed amused, going back to that small box and rummaging through the bottles. “Why didn't you say it before?”
“Because I know what you’re thinking,” you murmured, crossing your arms again, looking away.
“Is it for you?” he asked, taking out two bottles from the box.
“What do you care?” you whispered embarrassed.
“I don't care, Miss (Y/N), but if it's not for you... Well, I have more specific remedies...” he commented amused, shaking one of the bottles. “Does Lady Beneviento have erection problems?”
“Oh, Gods, no!” you said abruptly, with your face completely red. “Why does everyone know that Donna...?”
The man shrugged, laughing amused.
“It's a small village, Miss,” he said, unable to stop laughing. “Well?”
“No, it's not for Donna, she's... Well, too well, in fact...” you explained, tired of that conversation. “Very well, do you understand?”
“Oh, so the problem is yours...” he commented, taking out another bottle.
“Shut up and give me that, oh, and don't say a word of this or I'll cut your balls off, got it?” you threatened, snatching the bottle from his hand.
“Oh, how rude,” he sighed amused, coughing in agony. “But you know that silence...”
“Yeah, yeah, it has a price,” you said furiously, squeezing the bottle tightly in your hands and throwing him another bag of coins. Donna had so much money that she would never notice. “Will this be enough to shut you up?”
“Of course... It's a pleasure doing business with you...” he sighed, putting the bag away in a satisfactory manner. “Oh, a piece of warning...”
“Fine, okay, speak,” you said, focused on the clear liquid that didn't inspire any confidence in you.
“Put just a few drops if you don't want to... Get into trouble...” the Duke commented, something you barely paid attention to.
When you realized it, the merchant had disappeared, but the blush on your cheeks was still present on your face.
“Damn it, you stupid gossip…” you whispered, picking up the bags, putting the bottle away, and entering the mansion again.
“Tesoro…” Donna said, approaching the entrance. “Why took you so long?”
You faked one of your best smiles, along with a tired sigh.
“Ugh, he felt like negotiating today…” you lied, carrying the bags.
“Did he bother you?” the lady asked, worried, putting a hand on your shoulder, with a dangerous look. You shook your head, stealing a reassuring kiss from her lips.
“No, my love…” you whispered tenderly. “Why don't you keep reading? I'll take care of this.”
“Do you need help?” Donna asked kindly, pinching your nose playfully. You shook your head again.
“No, no… Um… Would you like to have some tea?” you asked, finding in that infusion the perfect cover for your plans.
“Some tea?” she asked, nodding with a pleasant, grateful smile. “Of course, tesoro.”
“No,” you said playfully, kissing her again before walking towards the elevator. “Thank you, Donna…”
When you finally finished putting everything away, you sighed, looking around and discreetly taking the bottle out of your pocket while you boiled water.
“Just a few drops…” you repeated the Duke's words unsurely, uncapping the bottle and smelling it distrustfully. It had a sweet and appealing aroma… It didn't seem dangerous.
You finished pouring the tea, looking at the two cups after a nervous sigh. Little by little, you picked up the jar from the counter, tilting it slightly over one of the cups.
“Idiota!” An irritating squeal made you jump in place, accidentally spilling more than half of the contents into your cup. Of course, Angie's absence couldn't last long.
“Shit… Angie!” you shouted furiously, looking at the puppet, who laughed amused by her victory, for bringing you to the brink of a heart attack. “How… How did you get here?”
“How did I get here? By elevator, you idiot, how else?” the puppet said, climbing onto the counter. “What are you doing?”
“Making some tea,” you hissed, hiding the jar back in your pocket. Luckily, she didn't seem to have noticed. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”
“No, no,” she said amused, exaggerating. “I just like to see your terrified eyes…”
“That's nice,” you said ironically, putting the cups on a tray. “You know that Donna doesn't like it.”
“But Donna isn't here,” the doll answered, leaning in an impossible way. “Foolish villager… Coward…” she sang mockingly.
You ignored her, rolling your eyes and picking up the tray, trying not to look away from the contaminated cup, taking out the half-empty bottle again as you went up the elevator.
“I guess nothing will happen…” you murmured, putting the bottle away again, and walking back to the brunette, who continued reading peacefully. “Your tea, Lady Beneviento,” you said amused, leaving the tray on the table.
She laughed amusedly, caressing your cheek in gratitude, granting your eyes the privilege of seeing her tender smile.
“Grazie…”she sighed, reaching out her hand to grab the wrong cup, something you prevented by grabbing her wrist.
“Oh, no, no, that's mine,” you said nervously, grabbing the cup roughly. “It's just that…” you murmured when you saw her confused face. “It has too much sugar.”
“Mm,” she whispered, nodding slightly, grabbing the other cup. “Don't eat so much sugar, tesoro… It will ruin your smile.”
“Do you know what will ruin my smile? Not seeing you wake up next to me every day,” you said romantically, causing her lips to launch themselves against yours.
“Che romantica sei…” she whispered in a sensual voice, seductive as always. You laughed, moving away to sit on the couch, bringing the cup to your lips. “You drive me crazy, (Y/N)…”
“I was born this way,” you joked, winking at her and drinking more and more from your cup.
The taste was sweet, like a fruit cake. The burning aromas of the tea mixed with that strange product. Well, at least the taste was good.
Time passed in silence. You and Donna exchanged glances from time to time, like every afternoon, while each one enjoyed her own reading. It was a pleasant moment, but you started to get nervous.
That strange liquid seemed to have no effect, and, anxious, you drank the rest of the contents of the cup with a strange gesture.
You sighed once, twice, you didn't feel anything. Nothing seemed to have changed. Nothing until you got more comfortable, until you put your legs up on the sofa. It was a strange sensation, a sensation multiplied by 10, that sensation of your own skin touching you.
You frowned at that sudden, unexpected pleasure, the pleasure of feeling something, your own leg rubbing against the other, sending a shiver down your spine. The heat that seemed to have left that room began to enter your body. Your breathing became labored and, with your hands, you rubbed your thighs.
You knew that the heat, that those sensations were not natural, you knew that the intensity of your caresses increased on their own, that your body was asking for that touch, that something was happening to you. You shouldn't have mistrusted that fat swindler. It seemed that the aphrodisiac was beginning to take effect.
Automatically, you looked at the lady in black and she returned your gaze, one that penetrated your chest like a flame, which increased the already existing trembling in your increasingly hot body.
Your hand went alone between your legs, feeling a moisture that was forming in that place, one that could only be explained by Donna's beauty, by having her perfect body so close to yours.
The need to increase the subtle touch of your hands became unbearable. Almost without wanting to, your caresses became much more lustful, much more, until, feeling your fingers brushing your covered clit and your mouth spoke for itself making you emit a strange moan.
“(Y/N), are you okay?” Donna asked, looking at you, looking at that hot mess in front of her. Your mouth smiled, your eyes became dangerous as you nodded.
“Better than okay, Donna,” you purred, increasing the intensity of your own caresses, with your mind blocked, imagining Donna inside of you, imagining that they were not your hands, but hers.
She smiled confusedly, closing her book and getting up from the couch, her gaze fixed on your playful hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting down next to you, caressing your leg curiously. “Are you…?”
“Do you want to watch or are you going to join, darling?” you asked in a velvety voice, moving to open your legs in front of her as your lustful touch grew ever more intense.
“Join?” Donna asked, with a nervous smile, joining her hands to your trembling legs, gasping as she watched your entire body writhe at her timid, exploratory touch.
“Mm,” you moaned, grabbing her hand, bringing it to your mouth. Your body was no longer yours, you were no longer its owner, that aphrodisiac had taken control and you… liked it.
Slowly, with your mouth burning, you put her fingers in your mouth, savoring the sweetness of her skin, the sensation of a part of her body being devoured by the heat of your tongue.
“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, amazed by the eroticism of that movement, of the soft suction of your mouth on her fingers, making her travel to the darkest thoughts of her mind, perhaps imagining that it was not her fingers.
“Are you going to just stand there watching?” you asked defiantly, leaning towards her, putting your legs on either side of her hips as you laid her down on the couch.
Your hot body moved over hers as your mouth changed targets, devouring her lips mercilessly as your hips danced over hers, moaning at the subtle brush of your wetness against the bulge that had already formed in the black fabric of her dress.
“Mm,” you moaned again, with a dangerous look, devouring every inch of her skin, her lips, her neck. Your body needed her, it claimed hers with an anxiety you didn't remember having, much greater than that of your first time.
“Cosa c’è, (Y/N)?” the lady asked, unable to stop your kisses from getting wilder, your hands from traveling down her dress, undoing her buttons, groping her breasts and finally, going down to free her imprisoned erection. “You're so…”
“I'm crazy about you, Donna,” you whispered, massaging her shaft slowly while, with the other hand, you struggled to take off your underwear so your eager body could get closer to her desire. “I want to fuck you.”
“Hey, no… No… Don't be that…” she protested, silenced by another furious, wet kiss, which you used to distract her from the movements of your hips, which were positioned on the tip, slowly going down. “Oh, amore mio!” she exclaimed when she saw herself surrounded by your copious moisture, surprised by the ease with which she moved inside of you.
“Donna!” you moaned, moving erratically, with her completely inside of you, with your body sending intense, almost unbearable signals of pleasure. “Gods!”
With a sinister growl, your hips began to move, with your hands on her chest, being the complete owner of the movements of that improvised act of passion, wanting to be the only owner, feeling selfish, desperate for that exaggerated pleasure not to disappear.
The moans were not calm, slow, romantic, no… They were wild, intense, indiscreet. Your body moved furiously on hers, her erection dancing on your tight, sensitive walls, while Donna, closing her eye, tried to withstand the intense embrace of your body.
“Yes!” you screamed, tilting your head when, after a few movements, the sensation of your release devastated all your senses. Your body shook abruptly, your muscles tensed without difficulty, but… Still, you didn't think it was the end.
The desire in your body didn't relax, not even when poor Donna, trapped between your legs, unable to move under your hips, also released amidst your exaggerated cries of pleasure.
Your movements decreased in intensity, but your gaze was still dangerous. You were stimulating your wetness yourself, even with the brunette inside you. You didn't want that sensation to leave you, it was your priority.
“(Y/N)… W-Wait a moment,” the doll maker stammered, breathing heavily, putting her hands on your hips to control your erratic movements, eager to obtain more and more pleasure.
“No,” you said abruptly, biting your lip, without stopping moving, controlling your wet and hot dances, the mixture of your release and hers going down your leg. “I don’t want to, keep gping, Donna, please…”
“Um… I…” she murmured, shaking her head, but unable to protest your insatiable desire. Her shaft hardened again thanks to your insistence, something that made you moan in pleasure, returning that anxious madness to your hips.
“You're so big, Donna… Do you see how my body wants you? How tight I am?” you whispered in a dangerous, almost disturbing voice, biting her earlobe. “How big you become for me…”
“Yes… Sì…” she stammered, nodding, controlling her moans, moving her body again to slide further inside you so her shaft covered by her own seed was pleased by the embraces of your walls.
“Keep going, keep going! I'm going to…!” you screamed, moving roughly, finding it difficult to satisfy your body's desire, releasing again, and again, and again…
“Gods… (Y/N)…” Donna said, caressing your hot cheek, moaning when she filled you again without intending to, completely surrendered to your excessive passion. “Tesoro…”
“Donna…” you whispered, with a tender voice, catching your breath, feeling you had finally release, that the effect of that aphrodisiac had worn off. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“You are very… Fiery…” she commented amused, getting out of your and resting your head on her chest. “You… You have left me exhausted…”
“Mm,” you said, laughing tenderly, twisting around in her body, opening your eyes horrified by what you felt.
No, your body hadn't gotten tired. Your body wanted more, much more. You tried to ignore that feeling, probably caused by the excess of liquid you poured into the tea. You thought that would pass sooner or later.
“Shall we take a shower, (Y/N)?” Donna asked, playing with your hair, also trying to catch her breath.
Yes, a shower seemed like a good idea.
Spoiler: It wasn't.
The hot water stimulated your desire even more. The sight of her perfect naked body clouded your reasoning, your logical thinking. The wetness of your legs mixed with the water, the heat of the water seeming to cool down in contact with your body… You wanted more, you needed more.
With a mischievous laugh, you hugged the brunette from behind. It might have seemed like an innocent hug, but it wasn't. Your hand traveled over her bare skin, caressing her belly, running your fingers over her breasts while your lips subtly attacked her neck.
Donna didn't protest until those caresses went lower, until they reached her already exhausted penis, caressing it gently, hugging it with your hand under the hot water.
“Tesoro... What are you...?” she whispered, surprised by your unusual insistence, by that ability of your hand slowly stimulating her body, preparing it again for you. “W-Wait, wait...”
“Shhh,” you whined sharply, not stopping moving your hand, not stopping playing with it, causing her body to betray her, to make one last effort to please you.
The tiredness was evident, but, even so, her body reacted again, hardening in a softer way but it was more than enough for your inexhaustible desire.
With a nervous gasp, you turned the doll maker around, hanging from her neck, devouring her with kisses again while your hips moved anxiously on her timid erection.
Donna could protest, but she didn't. With a tired moan, she lifted one of your legs, passing it around her waist, taking you again under the shower, standing, roughly and clumsily, but enough for the pleasure to overwhelm you again. Your satisfied body released itself several times, but it didn't seem to be satiated.
Donna did her best, timidly releasing herself inside of you again. She must have been exhausted, in fact, you were surprised that she was still able to please you.
Unfortunately, the Duke's warning crossed your mind. Just a few drops. You did it wrong and that was your doom. The burning in your body didn't go away.
But Donna couldn't take it anymore, she wasn't able to please you, she even started looking at you with some fear when she came out of the shower, noticing that the lust didn't disappear from your gaze.
As if she wanted to run away from you, she disappeared from the bathroom, just when you indiscreetly knelt in front of her, ready to enjoy another round of exhausting passion.
“Hey! Come here!” you shouted at the brunette's sudden escape, pointing at the floor and kicking it furiously. “Donna! Bring your little big thing here, now!”
“N-No...” You heard murmuring in the basement.
You groaned. It wasn't really you. That horrible liquid was running through your veins, speaking for you. Without even bothering to cover yourself with a towel, you left the bathroom to chase her.
“What are you doing running around naked?!” Angie protested, covering her eyes when you passed by her. “You're going to cause me a trauma!”
You ignored the doll and followed the wet footprints of her footsteps to the bedroom.
“Donna...” you hummed, sensually sticking your leg out the door. “Come on, get out...”
“No,” you heard someone say inside the room, where the brunette was taking refuge, covering herself with both hands between her legs. “D-don't come closer, (Y/N)...”
“Hey, come on, will you stop fooling around and come here?” you said, letting yourself fall on the bed, opening your legs again. “I need you, Donna…”
“No, no, I… What's wrong with you?” she said, shaking her head, trying not to look directly at you.
“I'm playful…” you hummed again, running a hand through that constant moisture. “Come on, come… Just a little…”
“Just a little? (Y/N), I can't take it anymore,” Donna said, with a painful grimace, with her hands still covering her shame. “I can't, I couldn't even if I wanted to…”
“Don't be that weak, I know you can,” you said, frowning.
“Weak? Don't you understand? No… I can't… I'm, I'm… Empty,” she whispered embarrassed, covering herself with a robe. “Let me rest, per-per favore…”
“Of course, of course, you can ask for a break, right?” you said angrily, sitting on the bed and crossing your arms.
Poor Donna blinked confused, nervous.
“I don't know what you're talking about, tesoro…”
“What, what am I talking about? Donna, you are… You are insatiable, do you know what it is to have… That, pointing at me all day long?” you said, pointing between her legs. She looked at herself and then at you, with the same surprised look.
“But, but…” she stammered, moving nervously.
“Donna, I'm a human being, do you understand? I need some rest,” you said seriously, fighting against the heat of your body, talking nonsense, reproaching those things that you should have talked to her about a long time ago.
“I, I understand, amore mio but… What is this about? You are, you are the one who…”
“Oh, yes it’s me… Do you know why? Because I don't dare tell you to keep your cock in your dress for at least one day, just one day, Donna, is that too much to ask?”
“If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on making love,” the lady in black hissed, with a darker look, annoyed by your vulgar language. “Does it make you upset now?”
“Do you think I’m upset?” you asked back, looking away arrogantly. “Do you know why I'm like this?”
“No…” she sighed, approaching cautiously, placing a hand on your forehead. “Mamma mia… You're burning.”
“Yes… I… Oh, I'm stupid, this is because of that damn aphrodisiac,” you lamented, venting your frustration on the sheets.
“If you don't want me to love you so many times… You just had to tell me,” Donna whispered, sitting next to you.
“I know but… Donna, I know you, I know you'd take it wrongly…” you said, just as she moved nervously, getting up from the bed.
“Wait, did you say aphrodisiac? What aphrodisiac?” Donna asked confused, with a furious look.
You didn't answer. You simply got up and ran to the bathroom, to search your dress for the remains of that cursed liquid, letting her see it.
“Wow...” Donna whispered, observing the cause of your constant burning. “I think you've put too much…”
“Don't tell me...” you said, with irony. “Now I can't stop... I'm... Oh...”
“Tesoro... Don't do these things for me... I prefer you to be honest with me, please... Don't lie to me anymore...” she said in a soft voice, taking your hands and caressing your cheeks.
You nodded, kissing her lips, repressing the pleasure that simple contact gave you.
“What do I do now?” you asked, sighing nervously.
Donna shrugged, comforting you with her caresses.
“I'm sorry, tesoro... I didn't think I was so... insistent... I really enjoy loving you, you know?” she said. “Tell me what I can do to help you,” she offered, making your smile grow wider
You opened your eyes wide, snatching the bottle from her.
“Don't apologize,” you said. “If you want me to forgive you, do me a favor and... Drink it, let's see if you come back to life...”
“But, but...”
“Donna, do it.”
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madlori · 1 year ago
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i don't even know what this is, a bit of non-buddie-endgame heartbreak maybe.
----
"One more?" Eddie says, holding up the decanter of fine ten-year-old bourbon.
Buck sighs. "I better not. Don't want to be hungover tomorrow like I was at the last wedding we were at."
"At least you weren't the groom that time," Eddie said, grinning as he puts down the decanter, apparently deciding to forgo a refill for himself.
"All the more reason."
"It took me a year to pay off the credit card bill for that fucking hotel room," Eddie groans.
"Hey, you say that like I wasn't paying half."
"At least it put us off having some kind of wild party tonight."
"Yeah. Plus it just feels weird. Like, how does a bachelor party work if you're marrying a man? Seems like he ought to be invited, too."
"What is Tommy doing tonight?"
"His brothers and a couple of the guys from Harbor took him to Top Golf."
"Stop this crazy party train."
"I kinda like Top Golf, it's like golf but also skeeball."
Eddie put down his glass and leaned forward. "So I know a traditional part of my job tonight is to like...check how you're feeling. Like, make sure you're doing the right thing. See if you're having cold feet."
"It is?"
"Apparently. But...I don't really need to. You're practically vibrating with excitement."
Buck felt himself go warm and liquid at the idea that in 24 hours, he'd be Tommy's husband. "I am doing the right thing. I've never had any doubts."
"Never?"
"No. I love him so much, Eddie."
"I know you do. And that guy is so in love with you it's embarrassing. I've never had doubts about either of you, either. And you know I get protective."
"Gee, you don't say."
"Shut up!" They laughed together, the quiet, easy laughter of a nearly decade-old friendship that in some ways was even closer than a marriage.
Buck sighed. "Well, I better get to bed. I need sleep if I want to look pretty to marry the man of my dreams tomorrow."
Eddie nodded, making no move to get up himself. "I'll wake you up at 9."
"Thanks." He patted Eddie's knee and went to the door. Something felt...electric. The air was crackling and he didn't really know why.
He was at the door when Eddie's voice stopped him.
"Did we just miss our chance? Somewhere along the way?" he said, quietly, but his voice cut into the silence clearly.
Buck paused, still facing the door. He took a deep breath and turned, his eyes locking on to Eddie's immediately. He did not even try to pretend that he didn't know exactly what Eddie was talking about. "Yeah. I think we did."
Eddie nodded. "I think so, too."
Buck took a step forward. "But you will always be my guy, Eddie. Always."
Eddie stood up, hands in his pockets. "I love you. And I love him. I love what you two have, together. And I will always have your back."
Buck took the two steps to close the distance and pulled Eddie into an embrace, pressing his face into his hair. "I love you, too." He drew back and let his forehead rest against Eddie's. They took a few breaths together, and it felt like they were releasing something into the air between them. Buck pulled away and pressed a kiss to Eddie's forehead. Eddie smiled, an easy, familiar smile, and it was okay again.
Buck grinned, squeezed his hand, and left the room.
He got to his own hotel room - they were all staying in the historic inn where the ceremony would be tomorrow - and made it inside. A shuddering breath escaped him, and as if he'd been waiting for a cue, he heard Tommy's key in the lock and he came inside. "Evan, wha..." was all he got out before Buck buried himself in his arms. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm amazing. I'm just..." He sighed, pressing his face into Tommy's neck. "I think I just let go of something I've been holding onto for a long time."
Tommy pulled back and met his eyes. "Eddie?"
He knew. Of course he knew. This man who was about to marry him absolutely knew. Buck nodded.
"And you're both okay?"
"Yes. Better than that, I think." Tommy pulled him back into his arms, rocking them both back and forth. "I love you."
"I know, Evan. I've always known."
Buck stood in the embrace of the man he loved, and wept both for what he was about to gain, and a little bit for what he'd never had.
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moirindeclermont · 8 months ago
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@somedayillbepeterpan asked me to write about the first time Colin shampoos Pen hair for my "all the Polin first times we didn't see in BridgertonS3" serie, shall we begin? (This is sexy and sappy AF, and I'm splitting in two parts because it's loong)
It's been a week after Eloise and Francesca departure to Scotland that It happens. Pen has her own beauty rituals to which he is pretty well accustomed, growing up with four women his all life.
But now, with their issues resolved and being married, he feels such a hunger to just share everything with Pen and pamper her as much as he can.
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Which is why, when Pen told him she was going to do a bath, he asked her to take it with him. She was looking at him of awe, desire, happiness and love he hope he would never get used to. It made his stomach drop and promise her the world if she would ask.
She took his hand and lead him to the room as an answer, dismissing the few servants and Rae as well.
He loved that she was feeling less shy about her nude body, because the moment the door closed, she slipped out of the nightgown she was wearing, and as always his breath started to become a bit more rapid. She was beautiful. A goddess. Or, in this case, a siren, as she step into the water, moaning loudly as she sat down in the tub. He was already half hard and, in that moment, Colin realized there might a few challenges he didn't predict.
"Are you coming, husband?"
Yeah. A lot of challenges.
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But as he sat down himself in the tub, luckily his wife was such a petite woman that the fit perfectly together, all the challenges slipt away. Pen's back was ok his chest, as they lay there for quite some time. After a while, Pen passed him the shampoo she used. "Would you do me the honor of doing my hair?" As Colin gulped. He took the bottle and started to work.
There was something exquisitely intimate in doing this for another person. As he frictioned Pen's long, lushious red curls, she let out the most delicious sounds, making him shiver. He took care of raising her hair, making sure everything was perfect, even when her derriere touched his growing erection.
"Be a good girl and I'll make you release here soon", at that Pen shivered as well but let him work.
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It didn't take much time after that. Soon, his hand found her breasts, touching her nipples, before one hand went down to find her core. He kissed behind her ear, her jaw and the soft skin of her neck, while she found her pleasure on his fingers.
"Yes. Col- more. Please," realizing she needed more, he says to her "go on your knees and brace yourself on the edge of the tub". He never saw her acting so fast to direction.
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"impatient little thing, aren't we?" As he stroke himself and a moment after he was in her, deep. Long, deep, slow thrusts. Stretching the moment as to carry on with the intimacy of the act.
"Col- so deep. I feel so full," she moaned as he started to pick up speed. Water was splashing everywhere but he didn't care at the moment.
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"Oh god, Colin. There," as he found out a particular angle that clearly worked for her, as she become wild under his hands, coming with a moan he was sure the Queen must have hear it, let alone the servants. The thought made him smile for a moment, before his release caught up with him, leaving him to spend himself in Pen, with a moan that was just as loud.
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He accompanied her in their previous position, massaging lightly her stomach and kissing her all over. He stopped when he caught a single tear falling out.
"Why are you crying sweetie?"
Pen smiled at him. "I never thought married life would be like this. I always knew you were my destiny, even when I believed I wasn't yours. But this bliss. This connection. With you. I can't believe a person can be this happy. I can't believe I can be this happy. I'm overwhelmed by our love, Colin."
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That is a feeling that he can understand quite well. He just hugged her tight, his own eyes letting out a tear or two.
"I'm overwhelmed too, darling. Every day."
They kiss, and after some minutes Pen looks at him, now all mischievous and cheeky. "You know that now is your turn, right?"
Part 2 here
Thank you @somedayillbepeterpan for the request and as always, if you have first times you want to be explored, feel free to write me!
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malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy · 3 months ago
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The Silver Moon
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Muggle-born!Ravenclaw!Girlfriend!Reader
House: Ravenclaw
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 4307
Summary: Draco reveals his dark mark to his muggle-born girlfriend reader, and their future becomes uncertain.
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Reader's Point Of View:
Draco strides into my private dorm, silent. I look over at him from the couch with a smile that quickly fades when I see his expression.
"Hey, darling..." I start, softly. He's been unpredictable lately with a turbulent sea of emotions ranging from obsessive love, to fury, to cold distance. His eyes search mine for a moment before saying, "We need to talk." I feel my stomach drop, fighting off a wave of nausea. I don't like where this is going.
"Sure, what is it?" I ask quietly, carefully.
"Stop acting so cautious!" He snaps, suddenly. "I'm not some fucking wild beast that is about to attack you." He says, voice laced with tension. I nod. "Okay. What's going on?" I say, finding my voice and speaking firmly.
His voice has taken on a uncharacteristically nervous tone that is rare in him as he begins to say, "There's something I need to tell you." I nod, stiffening. Is he about to tell me he cheated? I keep my eyes trained on him, hiding my emotions so he will continue. He takes a deep breath, tightening his hand into a fist temporarily before releasing- a sign he's in distress. He takes the seat next to me on the couch. "I've done something recently..." He starts then pauses- waiting for my reaction.
"Okay, go on." I say, reaching over to push his hair off his forehead and smoothing his hair back to hold off reacting. He leans into my touch, and I feel a sense of hope again. Maybe it's not that bad? He looks down at the sleeve of his black blazer for a moment then yanks it up to give me a full view of the dark mark. Right there on his forearm.
"I'm a Death Eater." He confesses, eyes never leaving mine. He holds his breath, waiting for my response. This could be the end of everything between us.
I hesitantly touch his mark and take a deep, steeling breath- not reacting yet. I fight off the crushing feeling in my chest. He knows I'm muggle-born and yet he joined an organization that's been killing us brutally and inhumanely. A group of dark wizards who pride themselves on the hatred of me and my 'kind'. How could he? I swallow hard and gather the courage to meet his eye again. There has to be a reason. He wouldn't just do this. He couldn't possibly.
"I’ve noticed you have been different lately. I knew something had changed." I say, finally meeting his eye. He nods miserably, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Brilliant deduction. Yes, I've been wrestling with it lately. Being a Death Eater is not as glorious as people think." He sighs heavily, pulling down his sleeve as his shoulders slump forward.
"I'll say. I'm muggle-born." I say, my voice full of hurt. He meets my eye with anguish of his own.
"I know, baby." He looks at me, tears filling his eyes. I drop his gaze and stare down at the floor. He grabs my hand. "Darling, please look at me." I hear the desperation in his voice. I look at him fully now- not hiding my pain and confusion any longer. "Why?" I ask quietly, tears filling my eyes. He lets out a choked sob.
"I had to. I had no choice." He says, voice raw. Tears now fall freely down his face- coating his pale skin. "Please, darling- understand. I didn't have a choice." He sobs now, hands trembling but holding on tight to mine any way. I look over his features, crying with him. He’s being honest. Of course he’s telling the truth. He’s never lied to me. I reach out to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.
"I believe you. What's going to happen to us?" I cry out, heartbreak and fear evident in my voice- head falling onto his shoulder as sobs wrack my body. He begins sobbing too, rubbing my back. His whole body is trembling now and I hear the broken boy within. He clutches me so tight it's borderline painful.
"Please don't leave me!" He begs out, voice raw with emotion and agony. "I need you." He sobs. I pull back to meet his eyes, wiping his tears away and using my sleeve to wipe the snot from under his nose.
"I won't leave you. I promise." I say, deciding to choose him and our relationship over this. We take a moment to settle ourselves as we cling to one another before pulling back to look at each other with matching scared expressions. We take a collective deep breath in.
"We need to keep our relationship hidden. I'm muggle-born and..." I start. He grabs my hand and squeezes.
"Don't you dare think I give a fuck about pure-blood bullshit anymore. Especially not when it comes to you." His ice-blue eyes burn intense. I take in a shaky breath.
"We might not be able to stay together…” I say, voice breaking again as I hold off another wave of tears.
"Shhh." He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. "You're the only good thing in my life right now. If anyone finds out about us, I'll deal with it- but don't you dare consider walking away from me thinking you'll save me."
"Are you sure? I don't want anything to happen to you." I look him, genuinely concerned. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. "Positive." he murmurs, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Besides, who's going to tell? We'll be careful. No public displays of affection, no talking to each other or talking about each other.” He says, and I nod vigorously in agreement.
"I'm going to avoid you in public. I'm sorry, it'll probably hurt but it's the safest thing to do right now." I tell him and he nods, his arms tightening around me slightly.
"I understand." He says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I don't like it, I don't want it, but I understand. Your safety is more important than my pride." He pauses, pressing a gentle kiss to my neck.
"No YOUR safety is more important. Do you think I'm doing this for me? No. You'd be punished. Horribly. Or maybe even..." I shake my head at the thought. "Something awful I don't even want to say out loud." I finish. Draco shivers involuntarily at my unfinished words, knowing exactly what horrible fate he would meet. He holds me closer, burying his face into my hair as if to block out the dreadful thoughts. "Don't even think of it," he murmurs gruffly "I can handle punishment."
"Stop that!" I pull back and look at him intensely. "Draco this is quite literally life or death. I don't know if we should risk being together at all." I admit. He pulls back slightly to look at me, his eyes lit with intensity. "Listen to me," He says firmly, hands gripping my arms gently but insistently, "I choose to be with you. If Death Eaters find out and I face punishment for it, that's on me."
"No- don't even say that! So casually. Like it'll be a smack on the wrist. You could be killed!" I slide off his lap. "I can't have that. I won't." He watches me intently, his heart pounding loud enough for me to hear as we reflect on the gravity of the situation.
He kneels in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine as he tries to reason with me. "You can't just leave me!" He says, voice low and desperate, "I need you."
"I'm so scared for you. I've never been more terrified my entire life!" I respond, my own body trembling now, my heart beating as loud as his. He reaches out to grab my hand, pulling me close as tears prick the corner of his eyes. "I'm scared too," he admits, his voice breaking "But I'd rather be scared with you than suffering without you." He hugs me tightly, burying his face into my hair. I hug him back, rubbing his shoulders and back. We've never been one for emotional displays, but in this moment, we can't help it. We've never been so scared and so in love.
"I love you. I don't want to leave you. But I need to know you'll be okay. Promise me." I say. Unable to make that promise, he pulls back slightly to look at me- his eyes red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears. "I can’t make that promise.” He says, voice low and serious. He looks at me for a few moments and takes a steadying deep breath in. “But I need you to promise me one thing," he says, voice a little louder and tinged with command, "Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll remember that I loved you more than anything else in this world."
"Don't speak like that! Like you already know something will happen to you. Don't you dare!" I say to him, a little louder than necessary and my own voice raw. He flinches at my outburst before a small smile tugs at his lips. "Gods, you're fierce. It's one of the things I love about you." He murmurs, rubbing his thumb gently across my cheek "I'm not planning to die, love." I sigh in relief, body physically hunching over. He tilts my head up to look at him. Confident now, he stares directly in my eyes and says, "Listen to me. I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm smart enough to stay alive."
"Do what you must, do you hear me?" I grab his shoulders, "Even if that means forsaking me, or saying awful things to me or about me. I don't care! Do what you need to do to stay alive. Promise me!" I look at him desperately. He stares at me, a flicker of admiration crossing his face at my protectiveness. He grips my shoulders back, his eyes hardening with resolve. "I swear to you, I will do whatever it takes to survive." He declares somewhat solemnly. I sigh in relief and pull him back on the couch next to me to wrap him in a hug. "Good." I say.
He returns my hug fiercely, his chin resting atop my head as he speaks in a muffled voice. "Though it pains me to say it, if separating from you ensures my survival and keeps you safe, then that's what I'll do. No matter how much it destroys me inside."
"Thank you." I say, relieved and hurt at the prospect. He pulls back to look at me. "Don't thank me. Just promise that no matter what happens, you'll keep fighting, keep living. For me, if not for yourself." He leans in, pressing a gentle, almost desperate kiss to my lips.
"We'd find each other, right? If we parted. We'd find our way back to each other when it was safe to?" I ask, my eyes welling with tears. His expression gentles, thumb wiping way the tears that spill over. "Like magnets." He says, with a soft determination. "No matter how far apart we are, we will always find our way back to each other. I will search for you. I will chase after you. I wouldn't stop until I found you again." He smiles genuinely, a determined look in his eyes. "I promise." I sigh shakily and hug him.
"Good, because I need you. I'll always need you."
"And I need you." He breaths out quietly, his hands tremble slightly as they trace my back "When it's safe, I'm going to marry you. No damn war, no dark lord, no bloody prophecy will stop me from making you mine forever." He declares fiercely.
I inhale deeply and nod, beginning to plan on how we can keep this silent devotion to each other from leaking and destroying us.
"We've kept our relationship mostly private, but there are some people who know we're together. What do we do about that?" I ask.
"I'll take care of them." Draco responds.
"How? You don't mean..." I trail off, not wanting to assume the worst, but he is a Death Eater now. He looks at me- amused for a second before he answers, "I'll 'obliviate' their memory of our relationship."
I sigh in relief and he leans in, pressing his forehead against mine. "We'll have a life together, you and I. A real life. Far away from all the chaos and destruction."
"We will. I know it." I say to him, holding his face between my hands and looking straight into his eyes. He closes his eyes briefly, savoring the feeling of certainty in my voice, the unwavering faith I have in our future together. He pulls back slightly, taking my hands off his face and intertwining his fingers with mine. "We'll have children." He says, voice hopeful.
"At least one, but I'll be fine with two." I say, smiling at the thought of entering parenthood with him when it's safe to. "I hope they look just like you."
A genuine, adoring smile spreads across his face. He presses a kiss to my temple. "One with your eyes," he says softly, allowing himself to dream a little, "And maybe one with your stubborn streak." He chuckles. Indulging in this fantasy with him is exactly what we need.
"Here's what I think," I smile at him "We'll have two kids. A boy and a girl. Are you with me?" I look to see if he's listening. His expression turns completely tender and vulnerable and he nods.
"Definitely. Our boy with my platinum hair, and blue eyes with your kindness, intelligence and intuition, and our girl with your stunning y/h/c hair, and y/e/c eyes with my resourcefulness, dry humor, and cunning charm." He loses himself in the fantasy, one hand absentmindedly running through my hair.
I add on, "Our son will be the mirror image of you. He'll be the eldest and as he enters Hogwarts, he'll be sorted into Slytherin, just like his father." I smile, imagining, "Our daughter will have my hair and your ice-blue eyes with my face. It's only fair at least one of them looks like me." I tease, letting out a small laugh. "She'll be sorted into Ravenclaw like me. Our children will balance each other out. Like we do." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he imagines the scene. He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me affectionately.
"What if...?" His voice drops to a whisper as if afraid to speak the words out loud. "What if they inherit our darkness? My cursed blood?" He looks at me fearfully, searching my face for reassurance.
"If they do, we will help them. We know what it's like to have darkness in us, and we know what we needed growing up. They'll have what we never did- loving, accepting parents." I tell him.
His fingers trace my jaw gently. "You're going to be the most incredible mother." His voice catches slightly, his emotions overwhelming him. "And I..." He struggles to find the words before he decides, "I will be the most fortunate father, to have you by my side. To have our children grow up surrounded by your love and my protection," He murmurs, his eyes shining with unshed tears, "I never thought..." He takes a shuddering breath, composing himself. "I never thought I'd find someone who can see past the monster everyone believes I am. Someone who loves me despite it all." He rests his forehead against mine, speaking softly. "You've given me something to live for beyond vengeance and pride."
"I love you, Draco." I say affectionately, caressing his face. “More than anything." His eyes close briefly, taking in my touch. When he opens them again, they're filled with deep devotion. He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "I love you. Do you know that?"
"I do know that. But, I want to talk about something." I say, hating to break this moment knowing time is of the essence. He'll be expected back soon for Death Eater matters. His expression becomes slightly concerned but curious, his fingers remain tangled with mine. "What is it?" He studies my face intently, trying to read me. "You can tell me anything, you know that." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. "Are you worried about something?"
"I want to know what our plan is moving forward. How will we maintain this relationship? We can't be in public together indefinitely." I say, ready to brainstorm. His lips press in a thin line, his brow furrowing as he considers my words. He's silent for a long moment, the weight of my question hanging between us both.
"Should we have a designated meeting time and place?” I ask, thoughtfully. He thinks for a moment before nodding.
"Yes, that would be wise. Somewhere secluded where we won't be seen or heard." His eyes scan my face, taking in every detail before he continues.
"I bought a small cabin in the woods a few years back. It's quite far from here. When the unrest started. It's my fail safe. My last resort." He looks at me, watching me, "No one knows where it is. I bought it under the table from a dying wizard. He's not alive anymore so no one knows about it but me. And you now." I nod, listening. "We should apparate there. Every night at midnight. That's the best place. I know I'm being summoned when my mark begins to burn, so you may find yourself alone there suddenly if I abruptly leave. Are you okay with that?"
"Of course I am. I think you're brilliant for buying it. You knew things would get bad, didn't you?" I ask. He hesitates, then nods.
"Yes. I saw my father become more secretive and I would have entire days where I wouldn't hear from him. My mother warned me because she saw the shift in him as well." I nod thoughtfully.
"Well-spotted. How will we communicate?" I ask, letting him take the lead on this excursion.
"I will send you letters and notes. I'll charm them to always find you but never leave a magic print that could tie it to me." He says, confidently.
"You’re so clever and powerful. It’s hot." I say flirtily, admiration heavy in my voice. He smirks and gives me a wink.
"A perk of being a dark wizard." He says, arrogance barely hidden. I look over his features unabashedly for a few moments, feeling very proud and impressed by him. He catches my look with a knowing smirk, leaning back and putting an ankle on his opposite knee, subtly flexing.
I laugh softly, finding amusement in him posing for me. I take this as invitation to look at him in entirety. I let my eyes touch every feature, every hair, every piece of him. "That's my man." I say proudly.
"Come here." He says, a command. He drops his foot and pats his knee. I sit willingly and lean in to kiss him. He watches me with a knowing smirk and stays still, making me do all the work. He's really enjoying this power trip. I laugh, amused, and kiss him sweetly on his lips. "You're so handsome." I purr at him, running my hand down his chest. His arrogant facade preens, he puffs out his chest and slightly flexes harder. He sets a possessive hand on my backside and with his free hand, takes my throat and pulls me in for another kiss.
When he pulls back from the kiss, I see my softer Draco take over his features. "Let's finish planning. Before they summon me." He looks bitterly at his forearm where the dark mark lays. I nod.
"We should use a secret code in our notes and letters, just in case they get intercepted. Something simple that can be overlooked if you're not searching for it." He says, back to planning mode.
"Sure, like what?” I look intently at him.
"I was thinking of two. 'The silver moon shines bright tonight.' which would mean I'll definitely be able to make it, and ‘Clouds obscure the moon' which would mean I can't make it." His fingers trail down the skin of my bare forearm absentmindedly.
"That's genius actually." I say approvingly to him. He grins at me.
See? I can be romantic and sneaky at the same time." His thumb catches my lower lip softly, rubbing across it. "You know what else we should do to avoid suspicion?"
"What else?" I ask.
"We should act as if we have animosity between us. Cold and distant if we have to be in the same room as each other. Like we barely tolerate each other's presence."
"Yeah, that's a really good idea. You'll stay true to Death Eater ideals and we'd throw people off our trail." I say, and he nods.
"Exactly. People already expect me to hate muggles and the muggle-born."
"That's right." I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back, his eyes softening.
He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over my ear. "And at midnight, I'll be in that cabin, ready to spend a few precious hours with you."
"Our own little world." I say, smiling at the thought. "Brilliant. I love it, darkling." His eyes widen momentarily before a pleased smirk tugs at his mouth as he embraces the newfound name. "Darkling?" He looks at me, amused. "I suppose that's fitting. Being a dark wizard and all." He kisses me softly on my lips. "If you keep calling me that people will see the affection I hold for you in my eyes."
"Better keep your eyes off me then." I tease. He chuckles lowly, shaking his head "As if I could keep my eyes off the most beautiful woman in this cursed castle." His eyes dance with mischief. "But for show, I'll glare daggers at you in front of others. Though it pains me greatly. Please never take them to heart. If they start to hurt- tell me immediately and I will avert my gaze altogether."
"I will let you know. I'll act distant and aloof. That's easy enough, that's second nature to me." I admit. He nods understandingly. "And I'll be the insufferable pure-blood prick everyone expects me to be. But at midnight..." His voice trails off, a promise hanging in the air between us. He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.
"I want your midnights. All of them." I say. Draco's breath hitches at my impassioned declaration, his pale blue eyes sparkling with emotion. He holds my gaze intently, his lips curving into a tender, intimate smile. "They're yours."
"I'll miss you during the day." I look at him affectionately. His expression becomes incredibly tender. "And I'll miss you every damn minute you're not by my side." he admits quietly. "Every lecture, every meal... I'll be counting down the hours until I can apparate to our cabin." I let out a small sound of affection.
"Let me look at you." I say, stepping up from the couch and pulling him with me to hold him at arm's length, my fingers intertwined with his. I take in his every detail, memorizing the shape of him. He stands still, allowing me to drink him in.
His soft blue eyes that are always so full of emotion when he looks at me, the sharp angles of his face, the way his platinum hair is neatly cut, sleek and perfectly styled save for some pieces brushing his forehead. His tall, lean-muscle build. His well-pressed all-black attire. He swallows hard, his voice coming out soft, "What are you doing?" Though I suspect he already knows.
I step toward him "Just appreciating you. I don't do it enough." Dropping his hands, I wrap him in a hug, getting enveloped in his expensive cologne. I inhale deeply. He snakes his arms around me, holding me tightly, then presses his forehead on my shoulder, turning his face to my neck, inhaling me as deeply as I inhale him. "I want you around. Always." he murmurs with longing.
"I’m here. You and me together forever." I say, rubbing his back. His face tucks into the crook of my neck and his arms tighten around me, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Forever, my love." He says, words full of deep devotion before he presses a sweet kiss to my neck.
I breathe in deeply, breathing in this moment. His words, his voice, his smell, his warmth. I feel him do the same. We both breathe in deeply, committing every detail of this moment to memory. His fingertips trace idle patterns on my back as he holds me. "I want to freeze time right here." He says softly.
"Me too." I match his tone. He nods and stands up straight, meeting my eye. I feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Just us alone, alone in the world. No familial responsibilities, no soul-crushing expectations, no danger. Just love." His voice cracks slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions.
"We may not have this peaceful moment forever but you know what we do have forever?" I ask softly.
"Us." He says, finishing my thought.
“Us.” I repeat, fondly.
“Us, together forever. Come hell or high water.” Draco declares
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bangtanficsforyou · 2 years ago
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Vérités Cachées (JJK)
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.
Summary: You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.
Genre: fluff, mild angst, smut.
Word count: 8K (it was supposed to be a 1K drabble)
Warnings: steamy stuff, or^l (f receiving), ti^^y sucking, fing^^^ng p in v s^x, mild d^^ty talk if it counts, s^x out in the wild (against a tree to be very specific) (p.s: it feels so awkward writing it with all the '^' but idk man apparently Tumblr flags it or something otherwise? And I have seen other writers do the same, so yeah)
Based on this request.
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If you enjoy my writing consider supporting my patreon!
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Faster. Just a little bit faster. 
"Stop."
The leaves scrunch underneath your feet as you try to work them as fast as you possibly can. 
"Stop!"
You have lost track of how long you have been running. All you know is that your knees feel weak and they are this close to giving out. 
But you cannot stop. 
"Y/N, stop."
No matter what you do Y/N, do not stop. 
Your lungs beg you to take a break and let them have their share of oxygen. Your throat runs dry and the saliva you have been gulping a little too frequently is just not enough anymore. These things should have been enough of a sign for you to realise that even if you willfully don't give up, your body will. 
And that is exactly what happens the very next moment. 
You feel a sharp pain in your left leg. The muscles cramp in protest and make it impossible for you to keep your pace up. You falter and somehow limp to lean against a tree for support. 
Your mind goes to lactic acid and how lack of oxygen can have your muscles doing anaerobic breakdown. Geez, you should have gone to the gym and have been a little more familiar with physical exercises. Maybe then your body wouldn't have burnt out this easily. 
You try to move your legs and examine the damage. The good thing is the cramp doesn't seem severe, the discomfort should be gone soon. The bad news is, for the recovery to be fast, you need to take deep breaths and relax for the lactic acid to be washed from your system.
All these calculative thoughts are brought to a stop when you hear footsteps approaching. Shit. 
You bend down and take hold of a piece of rock, the only thing available that can be used as a weapon. 
"Y/N," a breathy voice reaches your ears and a figure soon comes into sight. 
The figure happens to be of someone you know very well. Jungkook's. Your boyfriend.
Which is the absolute worst part. 
The man comes closer to you with his eyes locked on yours and you notice the fury in them.
A shiver runs down your spine and you raise the stone in a threatening manner. "You come one step closer and I'll hit you with this."
The man doesn't react in any manner. Almost as if the words don't register, as if he's in a world of his own. 
He doesn't stop walking towards you which makes you hold the piece of rock firmly, ready to aim. However, he suddenly is a little too close to you and with one flick of his hand, he manages to throw your so-called weapon to the ground, leaving you defenceless. 
You don't even try to hide how terrified you feel like this, all weaponless against something you don't even properly know what it is. 
You're about to plead for your life when he speaks. 
"Are you okay?" 
The voice. Even the voice is an exact replica of Jungkook's. Whatever this man is, he sure as hell is dangerous if he can imitate a person this flawlessly. Lord knows what other tricks he has up his sleeves. 
You don't answer his question for you know he could possibly not have any interest in your well-being. 
"What are you? Why are you chasing me?" 
Something about your shaky voice has a visible effect on him and he puts a little distance between the two of you. It's enough for you to release the breath you were holding but you also don't miss how he keeps a close eye on your movements for any time you try to escape. 
"I–I am Jungkook," the man speaks and despite the stutter in his words, he speaks with confidence. 
You manage a weak scoff. "As if I'd ever believe that. Do you think I didn't see? You think you can fool me?"
"What did you see?" His senses go full-on alert.
"I know–" you look away from the man in fear when the scene replays in your mind, "–I know you are no ordinary human. You're a beast."
You don't know what happens next, for there's a pause. A pause, that is long enough for you to hope that he's gone. You would have liked to check if your assumptions were right had you not been this scared to open your eyes. 
However, you do not have to keep guessing for much longer, for moments later there's a hand being placed under your chin, which slowly and gently guides you to turn your head towards the man.
"Open your eyes."
Initially, you don't oblige. You keep your eyes tightly shut. But as the silence lingers and the hand under your chin refuses to leave, you open your left eye to take a peek. 
All you see is the man looking at you with the same intense gaze, something burning bright behind those orbs that intimidates you to no end. Aside from that, you also deduce that he's not in the mood of giving up. He seemingly wants to talk to you or worse, wants to do something to you and is willing to wait for it. 
You think it's rather wise to cooperate with him while he's still calm and patient. Maybe that way, you'll be able to fool him and while given the chance, make an escape. That way you will also buy yourself time for your muscles to relax and recover.
You slowly open your eyes, apprehensive of what he might do next. 
He only repeats his previous statement. "I need you to believe me when I say, I'm Jungkook. The same Jungkook you have known for so long."
You know you shouldn't argue with him. You're in no position to take the risk of igniting a fire you know you'll not be able to put off. But despite your logical reasoning, you feel deeply irked with this man's audacity to claim he's Jungkook. Just how dare he? 
Against, your better judgement, all thoughts of cooperating with the man are forgotten.
"I do not believe you for a second." 
"I don't blame you for it. But I need you to give me the time to explain myself," he speaks in the same calm, confident tone. "Stop panicking, I won't cause you any harm–"
"What are you?" You interrupt him, mid-sentence, knowing you need to have some idea of what he is for you to consider his words of not harming you, seriously. 
For the first time, he looks away, "I'm a werewolf." 
Werewolf. So now you know, what this man is. 
You search your brain for all the information that you have ever come across about werewolves. How dangerous are they? Do they eat human flesh? Do they murder people? 
The more you come up with questions and their respective answers, you realise that none of these answers are reliable for all you know about werewolves are solely based on fictional books or movies. There's no guarantee that anything these movies and books portray is anything barely similar to the way a real werewolf is.
How can it be anything close to the real thing, when werewolves were supposed to be completely fictional? Heck, you wouldn't have believed it had you not seen it yourself. 
You sigh when you realise despite now having the crucial information about him, you literally know nothing. You are still as vulnerable as you were before. 
"Can I speak now?" 
You look at him and reply with a nod. You may not know how reliable his promise of safety is but as long he's talking, you're safe.
"I don't mean to cause you any harm, I'd never. I understand why you're so scared but let me...let me just explain."
You nod again, urging him to speak. 
"Some werewolves, like me, live among humans considering that there isn't much forest left in these areas and if we were to move to rural places, it would cause a problem for the werewolves living there. It also increases the chances of gaining unnecessary attention.
I have always lived quietly and never interacted with humans unless necessary. But I had to join the company because apparently there was a documentary on werewolves being made which had footage of real werewolves. A few of us were assigned the job to stop the documentary from being made available to the public."
As a journalist, if there's one thing you have learned over the years, it's the ability to tell when a person is lying. And somehow according to your analysis, he isn't. 
However, you shoot that thought down telling yourself he's not a human. He's a werewolf, lord knows what they can do. You're used to interacting with people who lie, not with supernatural beings. 
"If I had to get a hold of the files and clips, I had to interact with people. I had to get friendly with them and had to get as much information as I could. Which is how I started talking to you."
The mention catches your attention. 
"I was not supposed to fall for you but I did. I did not realise that at some point I had started talking to you not in order to get information out but because I genuinely wanted to. I looked forward to meeting you, talking to you and spending time with you. I fell for you when I was not supposed to.
Falling was a different thing but dating was a whole other story. I simply, simply did not know how to tell you the truth. When we started dating, I was far too deep. I wanted to call you mine and take you places but at the same time, there was this guilt gnawing at me for hiding my true nature from you. 
However, when you said that you were in love with me, that was the day that I decided I would do whatever it takes to protect us. Even if it means not telling you the truth." 
The man stops, probably done with what he had to say. However, you find his words extremely suspicious. How can you not? The man you have known and loved for a whole year, suddenly turns out to be a werewolf? As if you wouldn't have caught it sooner had it been the case. 
You try to move your leg a little to check the condition of your cramp but you make sure that your movements are subtle so that it doesn't catch his attention. You find a bit of relief when you realise that the majority of the pain has subsided.
"Let's say what you're saying is true, how come I have never caught you before?" 
"We werewolves do not shift that much. Irrespective of what TVs and films may have made you believe, we do not turn into a wolf against our wishes on a full moon night. If we do change into a wolf, it's only when we want and choose to do so."
You furrow your brows. "You mean you chose to turn into a wolf today? It wasn't an accident?"
He nods. "I booked a vacation in the middle of a forest because it is comforting for the wolf in me to be here. I wanted to just turn into a wolf and go around for a stroll. Never did I think you'd end up seeing me in the middle of a transformation."
You look away when you realise he's done answering. You need to come up with another question, something, anything to keep him occup–
"You do not believe me." 
His words catch you by surprise and you gulp in fear. You cannot let him know that you're not playing whatever game he's playing, who knows it might just make him lose his cool. You can't have that. It's better to play dumb. 
"That's not true, I am just trying to piece the puzzle together."
The man scoffs with a small chuckle. "You think I can't tell when you lie? I've known you for a long enough time to be able to do that." 
Oh shit. 
"I understand that you're in total disbelief. As if learning werewolves exist wasn't enough, you also learnt your... boyfriend is one. That can't be easy." 
You still do not believe his words but nod nevertheless. 
He gently puts your hands in his and his thumb fiddles with the promise ring that Jungkook had given you. 
That's weird. Jungkook used to do that whenever he was nervous and needed to calm down. 
No, no, no. Just because he is fiddling with your promise ring doesn't mean he's Jungkook. He can't be. 
You withdraw your hand from his and look at him with a determination that you didn't have before, a little annoyed with yourself for considering the possibility that this man might just be Jungkook. "I do not know who you are and what you want from me but I know one thing and that is, you're not Jungkook." 
"What can I do to make you believe me?" 
You shake your head vigorously. "You cannot be Jungkook. My Jungkook is gentle, sweet, and caring. You seemed so scary, my Jungkook is not like that." 
"Please look at me," after your withdrawal from him, he does not choose to make you look at him. He realises that irrespective of how gentle he might have been, you may still be uncomfortable with it. Thankfully, you do look at him even if it's after, what seemed to be a moment of contemplation. "I am so sorry that you had to find out this way. But I promise despite my appearance as a wolf, I am still the same Jungkook you know. There's nothing that you don't know about me."
Something about his eyes makes it impossible for you to look away. Maybe it's just the strong emotion that shines through his orbs but for the first time, you notice that his eyes aren't filled with fury. 
Out of both curiosity and anxiety, you keep your eyes fixed on his' to understand what exactly is it he's feeling. 
A few moments later, you still keep looking. Not because you can't figure out the emotion being reflected in his orbs but rather because you can and you think it simply cannot be so. You must be seeing it wrong. Because what you see is......fear. A lot of fear. He's terrified. 
But that can't be it. Why would a werewolf who's been filled with fury, suddenly be so scared? Unless...unless, he wasn't furious in the first place and it was your fight or flight mode that had made it look like he was furious. 
Does that mean he has been terrified from the very beginning? 
"What...what do you want from me?" Your question comes from a place of confusion. So far you had been under the assumption that this man wants to harm you. But if that were the case, why is he so scared? Things aren't adding up! 
"I just want you to realise that I'm Jungkook." 
His words play on repeat in your mind. That's the only thing he's been claiming since the beginning, that he is Jungkook. 
"Why would Jungk–No, Jungkook would have told me if he was a werewolf. He would have never kept it hidden." 
"Maybe Jungkook was too scared that he'd lose you and you'd stop seeing him with love. That the love and adoration you have for him will turn into fear."
He looks like his whole world is falling apart and he's barely holding on. 
Fear. This is the source of his fear. This is exactly what he's been so terrified of.
You frown in a state of confusion that turns out to be painful for you. Could this man really be Jungkook? Is Jungkook, him? Are they the same person? 
"Would it be so bad if Jungkook were to be a werewolf?" The question is asked softly, a little too softly for your liking and your head spins as it only confuses you even further for you once again, entertain the possibility.
Jungkook. Your sweet, cute, bunny-eyed Jungkook whom you love so much, is a werewolf? It's absurd because you still can't make peace with the fact that werewolves are real. But if it is the Jungkook you know and have grown to love, would it matter? You don't think so. But it's not a question of whether Jungkook is a werewolf. Right now, it's a question about whether this man, who's a werewolf, is Jungkook. 
You calmly go through everything he has said so far. Him, joining the company because he had to stop a documentary from being released, which could threaten the truth about werewolves being released to the common public. You recall how he was when he joined, he was distant, and his conversations looked forced as if he was doing it because he doesn't have any other choice. Or the way he was a little too curious about the itsy bitsy details, that no one else paid mind to. Even the time you had found him going through a series of tapes from the office room. Could it all be because he was trying to gather information about the documentary? Could he be saying the truth?  
"What happened to the documentary then, did you get a hold of it?" 
The man shakes his head. "As it turns out, no such documentary existed in the first place. It was just a rumour which had gotten out of hand." 
You immediately shoot him with another question. "Why then, are you still working in our company?" 
He chews on the inside of his cheeks, contemplating if you'd even believe his answer. "Because of you." 
Something entirely unexpected happens. Your heart skips a beat. In the midst of all the confusion and fear, your traitor heart skips a beat! 
You immediately scold yourself for it. What if he's lying to you? What if he's not actually Jungkook?
But, the way he's looking at you....it's the same way Jungkook looks at you. How can it feel like Jungkook if he's not Jungkook? This man could be lying and pulling stories out of his ass but his eyes? What do they say about eyes being the window to the soul? If so, why does it remind you of Jungkook so much? 
You shut your eyes close tightly and ask him a question as your last resort. "Tell me something only Jungkook would know."
It doesn't even take him a second and words come pouring out of his mouth. "You like your noodles a little less boiled because that's the way your mom cooked them. You like it when it rains because the weather comforts you. You enjoy it when I play with your hair because you find it soothing. You haven't talked to your brother for months after that fight even though you really want to. You have a little scar on your thighs from the time–"
"You're Jungkook," you whisper to yourself, finding your walls crumbling and your guard lowering. There's no way anyone except Jungkook would know these things. 
Jungkook is hit with a tremendous wave of relief which you do not miss. His body visibly reacts as if a huge bag of stone has been lifted off his shoulders.
"I am Jungkook," he whispers back, repeating your words to confirm what you have just said. As if he cannot believe that he has managed to make you trust him. "I am sorry you had to find out this way,"
"You really are a werewolf? You always have been a werewolf? Every time we have talked, you were a werewolf?" 
Your set of questions causes Jungkook to get nervous again and he takes a step back. Now feeling sure that you won't try to run away from him, he only manages a weak nod as an answer to all of your questions.  
"Wow," your mouth forms an 'o' as you let all of it sink in. Jungkook is a werewolf. Your Jungkook is a werewolf. "I wish you had told me sooner."
"I was so scared I'd lose you," he mutters, his voice wavering, all the confidence and firmness he was showing before, now gone. It's only now that your previous thoughts are confirmed that he's been this scared from the very beginning and you realise his confidence was merely a facade to calm you down. "You being scared of me is an absolute nightmare." 
You don't speak for a moment. Now that you feel like you aren't in danger, you take a few seconds to observe him. He is nervous, that much is obvious. But it's the little details about him that call for your attention. You know how he avoids eye contact when he feels small, you know how he runs his tongue against the inside of his cheek when he feels annoyed with himself and you know how he craves to have some part of his body to be in touch with yours because it grounds him. His clenched fists are a sign enough, that he wants to hold onto you, but is resorting with every fibre of his being.
Looking at him now, you wonder how you had not noticed these things before. How you could, even for a moment, think that he was not Jungkook. It's him, everything about him is Jungkook. 
He is Jungkook. Your Jungkook. 
You take a step towards him, to reduce the distance he had put between the two of you. 
"I think the fact that you're a werewolf hasn't quite sunk in, a part of me still is in disbelief," you place your palms against his cheeks and hold his face gently. "But something in my heart tells me you're my Jungkook and that's all that matters. Werewolf, vampire, human, I don't care."
Jungkook closes his eyes and releases a shaky exhale. "Can I hug you?"
You wrap your arms around him and let your head rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat washes away any remaining doubts or anxiety you might have had as you relax in his warmth that is so familiar. 
Jungkook goes completely limp in your hold as he too wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tightly. He lets go of all the tension in his body and the both of you stand there in the middle of a forest embracing each other. 
You would have liked to stay like that a little longer but a sniffle from Jungkook makes you break the embrace. You look at him to find his eyes misty. Jungkook saves you from asking the reason behind his watery eyes, as he himself tells you. 
"I thought you wouldn't believe me and that you'd find me disgusting and unappealing," he confesses. "I didn't know what to do to make you see that I'm the same Jungkook. The way you were scared, scared me." 
You run your fingers through his hair, knowing it has a soothing effect on him as well. "When I saw you transforming, I was scared but it was because I never even imagined that it was you. I thought it was some scary supernatural being that wanted to harm me."
"And you're not disgusted to know that I am, in a way, partially a wolf?" 
The way his voice sounds so small and unsure pulls at your heartstrings and urges you to comfort him. Placing a soft peck of reassurance, you smile against his lips. "Nah, you're still my cute little baby."
Jungkook looks surprised as he looks at you with wide eyes, not having expected that action from you. You giggle seeing his expression. He's your cute little baby, indeed.
His expression turns into that of shyness and a blush appears on his cheeks. "Could you do that again?" 
You laugh and the very next moment kiss him again. Your lips mould against his as you kiss him gently, silently apologising for scaring him like that. You kiss him with passion in hopes that it eases his anxiety and makes him feel reassured that you still love him the same. 
Jungkook kisses you with a softness that is desperate and needy at the same time. He needs it to fully relax into the fact that you're here, right in front of him and that you haven't left him. He needs to let it sink that you're kissing him with the same amount of love that you always have, that him being a werewolf, doesn't come in the way of your love. 
However, when he feels that reassurance hit him, he pulls you impossibly closer and his kissing starts getting harder. It holds the same amount of desperation, as before but this time Jungkook holds onto you tightly as if he's scared to ever let go of you, again. He feels like he needs to apologise to you, needs to love you better than he did before and most importantly needs to express how incredibly grateful he is for you sticking with him.
He could literally worship you right now. 
A brief fleeting thought occurs in his mind as to what were to happen if he were to get down on his knees and make you scream his name in the middle of this forest? 
That thought is a tell-tale sign that he should pull away, because with each passing second that your lips remain on his', the thought becomes a little less fleeting. 
With a groan that has your heartbeat accelerating, Jungkook pulls away and smiles at you. "We should head back." 
Your breathing had just started to get faster, your chest had just started to heave and the wave of excitement that makes goosebumps rise all over your skin, had just started to take over. The prospect of having Jungkook in a way where he doesn't have to hide himself makes you curious and crave that intimacy.
"We could head back a little later, we have time until it gets dark," you suggest lightly with a shrug. 
Jungkook looks confused at your suggestion. "What do you want to do staying here?"
"I don't know, maybe we could kiss a little more," you suggest with a shy smile on your face. 
"While that does sound nice, I do not think it's a good idea." 
"Why not?"
"Because I might get greedy and end up wanting to do unspeakable things to you," Jungkook reasons, trying to be the voice of logic.
 "Who says I do not want to do that already?" 
There are a million questions in Jungkook's mind. Would you be okay with it, when you were so scared moments ago? Would you be comfortable with it? Would you regret it later?
You get on your tiptoes and press a small kiss on his cheek, having noticed the concern on his face. "I want you, trust me."
"Are you sure?"
You nod with a reassuring smile.
The glint that takes over his eyes, makes a shiver run down your spine. It's a look you have seen plenty of times, one that you're extremely familiar with.
However, you sense he's still hesitant. Taking a step closer, you make the first move and kiss him hard. Starting it slow be damned, you want him to know the desire you hold for him. 
Anything that might have been holding Jungkook back, disappears. He holds you by your waist and pulls you closer. Groaning into your mouth, he bites into your lower lip before capturing it passionately between his lips to soothe any sting the action might have caused. 
Your desire increases and you gently prod his lips with your tongue, eagerly waiting for him to let you in. As soon as he does, you could not be more delighted, something which is made extremely obvious by how excitedly your tongue greets Jungkook's. 
There's no battle of dominance. Rather, both of your tongues entangle together as if dancing to their favourite song.
Your body starts to feel hot and you keep feeling the need to have him closer. When you part your mouth from his, it's not because you've run out of air, it's because you need to feel more of him. 
An emotion which Jungkook replicates. 
"You'd need support," his breathy voice reaches your ears. 
"That's what the tree is for," you reply in a tone that's quite similar to that of his. 
"The surface is rough, it'd scratch your back," he reminds you of the consequences of having your back against the tree trunk when you'll be naked later.
"Well you could always offer me your blazer," you counter, with a sultry smile. 
Fuck. 
Having been caught in the middle of turning into a wolf, he had to stop right away. Unfortunately, the fur doesn't disappear immediately. At that point in time, his main priority was not scaring you any further. Hence, Jungkook had grabbed the nearest thing he could find, to put on. Anything that could cover the fur until it disappears. Which so happened to be the black blazer he's now wearing.  
The image that comes to his mind as a result of your words, is one which makes him come to the conclusion that the thoughtless choice of the blazer, is one of the best decisions he has ever made. After you, of course. But if he has to put the blazer to good use, he needs to get you naked first. 
Kissing your neck with newfound vigour, he holds you firmly against himself as his hands start to wander behind your back to find the zipper that serves as the key to get you out of this dress.
Having found it, he wastes no time dragging the chain down and sliding your dress halfway down your shoulders. 
You whimper when the cold air hits your skin, taking you by surprise. He kisses, nibbles and leaves his mark on the newly exposed skin and curses to himself when he realises that you're not wearing a bra. The new discovery entices him to slide the dress even lower so that he can get his mouth on your soft supple breasts. 
His entire mouth dries up when your nipples are revealed and he realises how hard they have been all this while, as if just as eager to get sucked as he is to suck them. Wasting no time he puts your left breast in his mouth while playing with the right one with his other hand. 
"Fuck," you throw your head back at the new sensation and grab a hold of his hair. It's when he sucks a little harshly, that you look at him with eyes filled with pleasure. You notice the deep frown on his face while he plays with your tits and it does something unspeakable to you, it makes you want to skip everything and just have him inside you.
He gives equal amounts of attention to the other breast and then when he feels satisfied with the work of art he's left, he decides it is time to wander lower. 
He slides the dress off further, now exposing your stomach. His palm gently runs across the area and he leaves light kisses on his wake. The sensation makes you sigh for how in contrast they are with his previous demonstrations, which were rather rough and desperate. While these touches are soft and sensual, with a hint of teasing to them. 
Finally sliding the dress all the way down, he looks at you with anticipation in his eyes, "Step out of it." 
You oblige and step out of the dress that now pools around at your feet.  
"The underwear too," Jungkook asks, dying to see you naked. 
You smile a little at his words, understanding that he's getting impatient and you thrive in the thrill of what's to come. You hook your fingers around the band of your underwear and tug it down, getting rid of it. 
Jungkook's pupils dilate seeing every inch of your skin exposed to his eyes.
He experienced the most vulnerable part of him getting exposed and it made him want to crawl inside a hole and never come out. Anything was better than you being scared of him, being disgusted with him or feeling betrayed by him. But here you are, willingly standing naked, right in the middle of a dense forest with eyes filled with want for him. 
The wolf in him feels a deep fire ignite at the sight of you not shying away even though theoretically, anyone could step in at any moment and see the both of you in this compromising position. It assures him that you're not ashamed of him. It makes the beast in him feel accepted. 
Although he would like to have you naked like this a little longer, he reminds himself that he needs to put the blazer on you, for you'd need support for the sinful things he wishes to do to you and truth be told, he cannot hold himself back any longer. 
Removing the piece of garment, he drapes it on you. Taking a few steps back he curses when he takes in the full view of you in nothing but just a black blazer. His blazer. 
You're a tad bit disappointed when Jungkook closes the distance, for you were enjoying the sight of his glistening chest but your disappointment is gone when you realise this allows you to run your hands all over his body. 
You and Jungkook feel each other like you both are starved of touch and as if it's the air you need to survive. It's also while Jungkook feels every inch of your skin that he slowly and gradually, corners you against the tree, finally having you the way he wants to. 
He litters kisses in a straight line from your neck to your navel and then gets down on his knees. The new position has his face right in front of your sex.
"Please do something," you plead, shivering when his exhale hits your core. 
He merely hums, enjoying the sweet smell of your arousal that hits his senses. Using the tip of his thumbs, he gently parts your folds for your wetness to be revealed. "You smell so sweet, sweetheart." 
"Do you want me to have a taste?" He continues, now locking eyes with you. A soft whimper from you is all he needs to put his mouth on your nether region. 
He doesn't start gently, oh no, he straight away starts drinking all you have to offer as if he's been thirsty for ages. His tongue runs messily all over your insides, sometimes messaging your hole, other times stimulating the bundle of nerves that have you wildly arching your body with pleasure. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant repeatedly, the forest being the only audience of your sinful words. As much as you'd like to drag it out and take it slow, you don't think you'd be able to hold yourself from orgasming any longer. It feels like it's only been a minute since Jungkook started eating you out and you're already about to fall over the edge. But can you really be blamed when Jungkook has gone completely wild with his tongue down there? "Shit, I'm about to come."
Jungkook slows down. 
His tongue all of a sudden, turns gentle, languidly cleaning up your arousal but somehow still holding the same amount of passion as before. 
You're not complaining but the switch of pace has you craving more, because you oh so desperately, need to cum. "I need to cum, Jungkook."
"Not yet, sweetheart, I need your cunt on my mouth for a little longer," he whispers, his words which practically vibrate against your folds. 
The words are on the tip of your tongue as to how he could have just started slow and gradually built the pace, rather than snatching away your high right when you were about to hit it. However, you keep the words to yourself when you realise just how much Jungkook is enjoying softly lapping at your essence as if it's his favourite treat. It also doesn't take your body long to forget the stolen high and to start enjoying the slow pace. This time instead of wild loud moans, soft gasps and broken whimpers leave your lips. 
You know Jungkook is teasing you, he likes doing that. He likes giving you pleasure in a way, which with time gets a little too much and which has you begging for relief of any sort. It's not like you cannot cum like this, you can. After all, Jungkook is a little too good with his mouth but if you let go this way, the pleasure will be one that will hit you in the form of gentle waves. However, what you crave is a wave that hits you at once like a tsunami. 
Hence, you beg. "Don't be gentle. Make me cum. Hard."
Your words are desperate, a plea to Jungkook for you will lose your mind if he doesn't let you have your relief. And that's all Jungkook wanted, for you to beg in a helpless voice. Feeling satisfied, he sucks on your clit harshly. To add to your pleasure he inserts two fingers and pumps them in and out at a slow pace until you get adjusted. Once you seem to have no difficulty with his fingers, he starts a ruthless pace, one which has you seeing stars. 
While he fingers you with one hand, his other shimmies up and slides underneath the blazer to play with your tits. He squeezes your tits to his heart's content and pinches your nipples until your eyes roll back. 
Your head thrashes wildly and you grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck, you feel so good."
Jungkook has a bit of a dirty mouth. One which you clearly enjoy. And there's so much he wishes to say right now. He wants to tell you how sweet your cunt tastes, how tightly it's clamped around his fingers and what a sight you're from down here. But he cannot afford to not have his mouth on you, while you cum. That'd be such a waste. And if he were to go by the way your hole clenches around his fingers like a fucking vice, you're close. It only motivates him to increase his pace. 
That paired with the stimulation he provides on your clit and your tits, has your whole body heating up and the very next moment it all explodes. You cry out loudly, and your grip on his hair tightens even more as the wave hits you like a tsunami, making you lose all control over your senses. All you feel is the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.
Jungkook smiles against your cunt at the way you fall apart, thinking to himself, you for sure would have lost your balance had it not been for the tree you lean against.
He helps you ride your high and once you seem to have caught your breath, he places a few more kitten-like kisses before getting up on his feet. 
You feel weak but you cannot not kiss him with everything that you have got in you. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips when you're greeted with your essence and it urges you to have a taste of him.
Your hands find their way to his belt and you attempt to unbuckle it. Jungkook chuckles against your mouth, noticing how your hurried actions, instead of getting the job done quickly, lead to you messily fumbling with the belt. Taking matters into his own hands, he stops kissing you for a brief moment to get rid of the belt himself. 
"Fuck, thank you," that's all you say before roughly tugging his trousers down.
Your mouth practically salivates at the sight of his hard length that begs to be free from the confinement of his boxers. The dark wet patch against the piece of clothing serves as an invitation for you.
Thankfully, you do not have to put your patience to the test to get rid of his boxers. It's done swiftly without much struggle causing his length to spring out. You immediately have your hands on him. Collecting the precum from the tip, you rub it all over his length. 
Jungkook groans right next to your ears, his breathing accelerates the more you run your hands on his cock. "Yes, baby, just like that."
You feel his tip leak more beads of precum and it adds to your desire of having a taste of him. "I need to have you in my mouth."
Jungkook stops you before you can get down on your knees. His lust-filled eyes, spark with a shred of amusement. "You will hurt your knees, baby."
It's only then that you are reminded of the fact that you're in a forest and that you indeed will end up hurting your knees if you were to get down on them on the forest floor. 
"Then fuck me," you say with a gruff, a tad bit annoyed that you cannot have what you want, at this very moment.
"That I will," Jungkook chuckles darkly. Saying so, he presses his length against your folds. "Do you know how wet your pussy is?"
"Why don't you do something about it?" You mewl softly, enticing him to just fuck you rough and hard. 
"Oh don't worry, darling, you won't be able to walk after this," he promises.
It isn't just his words that affect you, it's also the way he's looking at you. You have noticed there's something more carnal about him today and if you're not wrong it has everything to do with him not having to hide anymore. It's him expressing his need without having to hold anything back, now that he knows he's accepted and loved wholly. 
"I'd like that very much." The sultry, seductive tone is intentional for you know that Jungkook plans on teasing you. But you cannot wait any further. You need to have him inside you now and you only wish you can make him as impatient as you. However, Jungkook seems to have understood what you're trying to do. It's not to say that your tactic doesn't work, it does. He starts rubbing himself against you faster but he's not willing to give in, just yet. 
You make another attempt by pinching his nipples. In the various occasions that you've been intimate with Jungkook, you've learnt that those two buds are perhaps the most sensitive spot for him.
It's once again proved right when he lets out a low growl and the next thing you know he's pushing his cock inside you. "You couldn't wait a bit longer, could you?" 
"When it comes to you, I do have a habit of becoming impatient," your voice comes out hoarse, the pleasure from having his length inside you clouding your senses. You just feel so full. 
Jungkook hums in approval and once you give him the green signal, he builds up a slow and steady pace. 
"Fuck baby, your cunt is so tight," the words are whispered against your neck, as you feel Jungkook gradually set up a brutal speed. 
You tug on his hair harshly to get a grip on reality as your vision starts to blur. You whimper, wail, scream and cry his name repeatedly, all of which fuels Jungkook to go faster and deeper. 
He notices the lightheaded look in your eyes and swiftly hooks his arms around your thighs to lift you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and secure your position. 
The effects of your previous orgasm hasn't completely faded yet and from this angle, his dick hits the golden spot which makes your high approach faster than you had anticipated. 
"Jungkook, I'm gonna cum," the words are broken and breathless. 
The new information earns a few slow determined thrusts from him, before he speeds up again. His forehead touches yours and you feel the sweat that has built up on his skin. You notice the way he is so focused on your pleasure, on every moan that escapes your lips and every expression on your face. 
It all gets to the point where you can't hold yourself back anymore. Throwing your head back, you reach another high and hold to any part of Jungkook that you can to hold onto your sanity. 
"Baby your pussy just got so tight," he speaks in a hushed voice, the fucked out look in your eyes and the essence that he feels on his cock, as an after-effect of your orgasm, now making him chase his high.
"Cum inside me, please," you say in a weak voice, your cunt still convulsing. 
"You know I'm a werewolf right?" He queries, with a dark look in his eyes. Receiving a nod from you, he speaks again, "Do you know what that makes you?"
"My mate."
That's the only warning you get before he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The sound of skin slapping makes you dizzy and you feel so desperate to feel him spill inside you. Thankfully, it takes a few more thrusts before he paints your insides with ropes of thick cum. 
You both stay in that position, foreheads resting against each other as you breathe heavily, feeling totally spent. 
"That was something," you mumble when you seem to have regained enough energy to speak.
"That was intense," Jungkook agrees, removing the strands of hair that had fallen on your face.
"I enjoyed it though," you smile up at him, finding it kind of silly how you ended up getting railed against a tree from running for your life. 
As he slowly feels himself coming down from his high, he feels the disbelief resurface again. Did he just fuck you after you found out he's a werewolf? And you just let him and confessed to enjoying it? And are you still here looking up at him with those bright eyes? 
"You're unreal," he sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling your sweet scent. 
"You're the one who's a werewolf and you are telling me, I am unreal?" Your brows quirk up as you tease him.
"I–It's just unbelievable that you're still here–"
"So a good round of fucking wasn't enough for you to believe that I'm here?" Your words earn a small chuckle from him which soon turns into a warm smile when you place a kiss on his jaw. "There's never gonna be a good enough reason for me to stop loving you, Jungkook."
"I promise I'll never hide anything from you again," his nose gently rubs against yours.
"I hope you don't ever feel the need to," you hum. "But for now, you need to do me a favour and carry me on your back."
"Told you, you won't be able to walk after," he winks, with a proud look. 
"That and the fact that I got a cramp due to all that running."
His worry is immediate. "You got a cramp? Why didn't you tell me? Shit, did I hurt you while having sex?"
"Nope, it didn't cause much trouble," you shake your head to ease him. It's the truth, the cramp doesn't seem to have had much of an affect. It's only when you try to stretch you legs, that it causes the slightest of sting. 
"Let's head back, I'll massage the area for you, that should help," he comments as he quickly starts collecting the clothes that you two have dropped on the ground without a care. 
Once he has his trousers back in place and has collected everything that is needed, he asks you to hold the clothes. Then swiftly, in the blink of an eye, he is picking you up in bridal style. A surprised gasp escapes your lips but it soon turns into giggles when you realise that Jungkook's upper half is still unclothed and you get exclusive access to it on your way back. 
"Walk slow, take as much time you need," you quip, your hands slowly and dramatically inching closer to his chest. 
He rolls his eyes, pretending to be done with your silly behaviour when in reality, it's one of the things that he so dearly loves about you. 
He knows you tend to get sleepy after sex and the only reason you're being this talkative and playful, when your body is probably trying to doze off, is because you want him to be at ease. You know him a little too well and know that in your silence, he will probably overthink again. Its not just your words and touchy hands but it's also this unspoken thoughtful gesture, that makes Jungkook finally relax and let go of the notion that you'll regret or change your views about him.
Oh, how dearly he loves you. 
Bless whoever had started the rumour about the documentary. Had it not been for them, he would not have you in his arms right now, making him feel like the luckiest man alive.
Gosh, he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life with you.
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silkbab3y · 1 year ago
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Im so SO sorry 💗
Snippet: Rosie and Ren woohooing but she didn't moan his name. Oops!! DISCLAIMER: They are NOT in an established relationship in this. Ren and Teo are from @14dayswithyou Nsfw fic below (DNI if below 18!!!)
"Ngh... ah..." "Hah..."
The bed creaked and groaned under the shifting weight of Ren on top of her, Rosie's bangs clinging onto her sweat-covered forehead. Slender fingers bunch up the fabric of his sweater's sleeves and her legs clenching around his hips before wrapping around completely. Her head was buzzing, the hours dragged by as her sore body took each and every thrust the taller man gave to her. And she took it so well, so eagerly, confirmed by Ren's sweet praises and gentle touches to her face in contrast to the rough snaps of his hips. Another sweet spot kissed by his tip has her back arching off the bed, lips parted in a strained moan before she lets a name slip from her kiss-swollen lips.
*And it wasn't Ren's name.*
"T--eo--" Just those two syllables had her senses come back full time, brown eyes widening and a hand slapping to her mouth as she stared up at Ren. He stared down at her with an unreadable expression.
"I, um--" Oops. To say she had things complicated with Teo was only one-sided. Feelings for a man with no sense of commitment left the girl stringing herself along like a lost puppy. That was why she agreed to hang out with Ren, to be with Ren, to *fuck* Ren. It wasn't like they were dating though... but that didn't help her case at all, nor the guilt and shame that crawled up her spine. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me--" Yes she did, she absolutely knew what came over her. 
"You're thinking 'bout him?" And so did Ren it seems. The man could read her like an open book– like she had the audacity to even feign ignorance. Was it that obvious? 
Before Rosie could explain herself; apologize, hide her shame and pray for a hole to open up and eat her alive-- anything, Ren had grabbed her thighs, pushing them closer to her body until her knees met her shoulders. "Hold on-- I didn't mean to, really-- ah!" The girl throws her head back into the pillow as he slams his hip down, feeling his cock (AAAH) reach places deeper than before. 
"Ren!" She croaks out, her hands shooting to the large pillow under her head, yanking at the plush as he slowly pulls out until just the tip is left inside, before *sloooowly* pushing back in. *Oh god.* Rosie lets out a desperate whine at the achingly slow pace he had set, like he was trying to make sure her cunt (AAAAAAAAH) remembered the shape of him. He continues this rhythm, slow and deep that drives Rosie wild and near the edge.
"There you go," he hums, leaning down to nip at her earlobe, the sounds of her needy cries filling him with pride. "That's my name, angel... say it again,"
"Ren--" "Again." Another whine rips from her as her gummy walls flutter around him, signalling her approaching orgasm. "Say it again, angel and I'll let you cum." His hips barely move, almost as if he was ready to stop if she didn't. "Pleeease," Rosie begs so sweetly, her chest heaving with ragged breath, her hand coming up to the back of his neck to grip the collar of his turtle neck. "Please, Ren-- I can't--" 
"Good girl." Jerking her hips up to grab onto her better, moving one palm up to the back of her knee-- Ren picked up his pace, angling to hit her sensitive spots repeatedly until she finally came undone. With a relieved mewl, Rosie's grip on his sweater tightens as does the knot in her stomach before it finally releases, her cunt clamping down his cock once more. And as a shaky sigh escapes Rosie, eyes half-lidded and in a daze, Ren softens his touches and cold lips presses against her forehead in approval. 
"Such a good girl."
____
"That's one pesky bug," Rosie internally groans, her nail tapping at the counter as she debates on turning around or not. Not like she had to when the suave and raspy voice belonged to the very man who owned her thoughts, her attention, her heart. "Should really see a doctor for that."
"Do you need something, Teo?" She questions, her tone coming out a bit snappier. Shit. Rosie hadn't meant for it to come out so… bitchy, but she was running on 2 hours of sleep from last night and wasn’t ready to face him. “Ouch,” Teo moves to be across from her, classic Teo, needing to have her full attention. “I’m a little hurt, starshine.” He tilted his head, and Rosie’s eyes couldn’t meet his that trailed over the marks littering her tan skin. “You had fun, dollface?” Ugh. Him and those damn pet names that had her heart skip, her stomach flutter. Rosie huffs, putting on her best smile as she sheepishly tugs at her stylish top that did her no justice in covering the love marks Ren had left. “Yeah,” she answers after a beat passes, trying to not lower her head in embarrassment. It came so easily to her with anyone else, anyone that wasn’t Teo. “I did actually, thank you for asking, bookie.” She snickers at his eye roll, but the quirk of his lips makes her heart leap. “I bet I can be more fun,” Oh. Suddenly the reminder of how she was taken so well and wholly last night came to her when she felt her inner thighs ache. Her whole body really…
Inside, she was ready to accept his offer without missing a beat, but Rosie knew better than to do that. Come off as desperate? Urgh… With a slow breath out of her nose, she raises an eyebrow as she studies the man. “Really?” Really. “Well, sucks for you– I’m not really up to getting my guts rearranged a second night in a row,” she snorts, her smile forming more naturally this time. Teo shoulders jerk slightly in a silent laugh as he props his head up with a hand. “Doesn’t have to be tonight, dollface. I already got plans.” It takes Rosie everything to not sigh in disappointment. “Text me when you do feel like rearranging those pretty guts again, Rosie.” Rosie stands there as Teo pats the counter before taking his leave, spacing out as she tries to process his words. Not even when Elanor calls out for her does she react, not until she finally comes to her senses, excusing herself to slink off to the break room. She needs a fucking nap.
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lazyneonrabbitt · 11 months ago
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Forest Guardian pt.2
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Daryl Dixon x reader [pt.1]
Your second day in the woods goes nowhere near how you thoight it would go, but at least it ends nicely.
Teeny bit of nsfw at the start.
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Back behind the curtain to the makeshift sink and cleaning station Daryl took a couple of minutes to make sure you had fallen asleep and unfolded the magazine he grabbed before. Merle insisted in stashing some dirty magazines in his supply drops from time to time. "In case he got lonely."
Not that he really used them, he didn't care for it at all. But now with you hanging around all day and showing him care he felt it affecting him. Luckily he still knew how to behave and not hop into bed to have his way with you.
So he had to make do with the models on the pages to satisfy his urges. If he covered their faces he could imagine it was your nude body he was staring at while he worked himself to his release as quietly as possible. His hand would never feel as good as yours. Or maybe your lips, even if he was kind enough to you. The idea alone was enough to help him over the edge, finishing all over his hand.
He felt disgusting after he cleaned himself up. When he got back he could barely fall asleep, hyper aware of you just a few feet away, sleeping in his cot, on his mattress. Under his blanket.
Morning couldn't arrive fast enough, even his dreams were plagued with images of you and he woke up feeling like hell had finally gotten its nasty claws on him. He needed to busy himself with something, whatever he could find to distract his mind. So he chose to start preparing for today's hunting trip. He'd have you come along to help foraging so you needed a bag for yourself too. And tools for hunting, gathering plants and also for protection. He wouldn't admit it, but he was having fun with it.
Daryl was already up when you awoke, he was quietly emptying a small bag.
You stretched and yawned, sitting up slowly. "Morning.." your voice was scrapy and your back sore. "Man, how do you have a spine left with this bed?"
He turned to face you, a soft huff of a laugh leaving him. "City girl whinin'."
You almost took offense, but shrugged it off, not having the energy to argue right now. You'd have to get used to living with a shitty bed if you were going to stay.
"So, what's the plan? Do you have food?" You were slouched over on the cot, already cranky with how your stomach was actively grumbling for food, and the lack of fancy breakfast and coffee.
"Get up 'n I'll get ya food. Goin' out after."
You worked yourself off the cot and towards Daryl who had moved around and handed you a piece of jerky.
"This is breakfast?" You eyed the slab with caution, turning it on your hands with uncertanty. "I seriously hope this is just wild boar or something." You wiggled the piece of dried meat at him, and before you had a chance to pull your hand back Daryl had snatched the food from your hand. "F'ya don' wan'it I'll eat it."
"What? No! Give it please.." You drew out the wine, pouting at him and got the jerky back, gnawing on it to still your hunger.
When you were finally ready to head out, which took way too long according to Daryl, you two were out the door.
"So, where are we going? You're barely sharing anything here." You were following his steps, a shaking hand still holding onto the bag he gave you.
"Yer gon' need this." Daryl had given you a small crossbody bag earlier and showed you its contents one by one.
A small knife, for foraging. Plants only.
A large hunting knife, for meat.
And a handgun. "Daryl, why am I taking this?"
You didn't even want to touch it, but Daryl made sure to show you how to hold it properly, even if it bothered him to hell and back to have to get so up close and personal with you and keep his body under control.
"Yer goin' out in the woods. Ya need protection." He had placed everything in the bag and handed it to you. "An' I ain't handin' y'a shotgun." He slung his own weapon over his shoulder, a throwing axe strapped to his waist along with his knives and a crossbow in his hand.
"I got you. You got a whole arsenal. Why do I need the gun.." It was clear you weren't comfortable with it. Still you were outside with him, heading into the woods to do god knows what.
Watching your step quickly became watching his broad shoulders move in his tight long sleeve shirt. You didn’t even hear him talk to you until he stopped because of you not responding and walked straight into his back.
“M try’na be nice ‘ere, takin’ y’out the door an’ y’aint even listnin’.” His one good eye stared into your soul, intimidating being an understatement and having you immediately straighten up and nod vigorously. “Yes! No, I'm sorry..” You stared at your shoes and got a pat on the shoulder, leading you to move on.
You were the one gathering the edible plants while Daryl was off but still in view, hunting an animal you didn’t see. Busying yourself plucking the plant as instructed you were caught off guard by a gunshot, a pained grunt and screams of agony that made you shoot up and go check the situation. You saw Daryl first, hunched over and bleeding with a dead guy who had an axe buried in his chest.
A second guy was staring In panic before turning on his heels and running off.
“Shoot ‘em. For fuck’s sake!” You set off in a sprint, hands shaking as you dug for the gun, talking yourself into doing it for real, doing it to save Daryl. You followed his path, having stopped running and looked through the sight as Daryl showed you and pulled the trigger.
You missed.
The shot was close enough to make him jump as lose his footing. You had to do it now, there was no other choice.
You took the shot with shaking hands, but it hit. You did what Daryl asked of you.
Daryl. “Fuck.”
Leaving the body you set out to sprint back to where he got attacked and saw him lay on his back, the shirt he wore torn up to bind his bleeding wound. He saw you come into view and gave you new instructions.
“Merle, get ‘im fer me.” He was in a lot of pain, so you insisted in helping him dit up against a tree. “How? My car is gone, remember?” You had a whole fit this morning before you set out, not seeing your car where you parked it the day before.
“Walkie, cabinet next to the door..” His hand weakly smacked your shoulder to set you in motion, watching you run off in the direction of the cabin.
You found the thing fairy quick, pressing the button and calling out. “Merle? Are you there?”
Answer. Again. “Merle! Daryl needs help for fuck’s sake, answer this thing.”
“Merle!” Your voice was shaking when he answered.
“The hell’s a lady’s voice callin’ on mah brother’s channel. Ain’cha supposed ta be dead?”
Wait, dead? “What the fuck dude? You sent me there on purpose?” You were fuming now, blood boiling but there was no time to fight. “Get your ass over here, Daryl got shot and he needs help”
You wanted to toss the walkie in frustration, but kept it on you as you went through your bag for the simple first aid kit you took and ran back to where you left Daryl.
He came into view in the distance was still sitting against the tree, head slumped to the side. You almost tripped over your own feet as your stomach turned itself inside out and you fell to your knees, puking up that little thing you ate for breakfast. Tears ran down your face and you couldn’t stop the sobbing but you had to get up and move on. Daryl needed you.
Wiping your mouth with your sleeve you got back up and got to his side, unpacking the kit but finding nothing that you knew how to use to patch a bullet wound. You had used up some stuff already to patch his previous wounds that by now weren't even bothering him anymore.
All you could do now was press the leftover gauze to the wound and wait for Merle to arrive.
It didn't take long for the pickup truck to arrive and Merle hopping out to check his brother's wounds. "Gotta load 'im in the back, help me wouldya."
You managed to get Daryl laid in the truck bed, but watched as Merle made his way into the woods. "Where's them boys ya shot? Gotta clean 'em up 'fore we head back."
With a sigh you pointed him in the direction of the one furthest away while you took the one close by. It was a hassle and a half to get the dead weight lifted and thrown into the vehicle on your own, but you managed by the time Merle got back with the other body slung over his shoulder. You followed his movements as he tossed the body in the back with no care at all and closed the latch. "Ya watch him, I'll head to his cabin."
You got comfortable and steadied yourself for the ride, keeping a close eye on Daryl who was still breathing as of now. The ride was a short one and Daryl was on his cot with minimal issues.
You worked on getting Daryl's wound accessible while Merle quickly threw a tarp over the corpses in his truck. When he came back he saw your shaking hands and came to help immediately. "Move over, ya see an exit wound?" You shook your head, realizing you had to go fish it out of him with whatever backwoods methods you had to use.
Daryl stirred with each prod of Merle's tools, your weight barely enough to hold the man down.
"Ya gotta git'yer back into it, girlie! Can't get tha' damn bullet outta him." Merle complained about Daryl's stirring constantly until he had enough and shoved the medical tools into your hands.
"I'll hold. You pry the thing outta his side." He made you swap places and held his brother down with all his might as your shaking hands rested on Daryl's skin, needing a second to steady yourself before you could try yo get the bullet out.
"Ya got this. Slow 'n steady, jus' like tha'." Merle's voice had gone soft and almost comforting in a way, it helped your nerves and after some gut wrenching moments you got the bullet out and leaving a gross, bleeding hole. "Tha's it, now press this on."
He handed you a cloth to press on the wound. "Ya know how ta sew?"
You looked at him with true horror in your eyes while he dug for thread and a needle, but nodded.
“Good! Sew ‘im up ‘fore he bleeds out.” One of his hands moved to hold the cloth in place until you got your nerves in check while to other one handed you the items to close Daryl’s wounds.
With an intake of breath you squeezed Daryl’s flesh together, and pushed the needle through as you breathed out.
In. Squeeze. Out. Thread.
A few more times to close the wound entirely, snipping the thread as Merle worked to patch up the stitches with a gauze and medical tape.
Merle didn’t stick around much long after. He helped you clean up and left some supplies behind for you, giving you something that sounded like an apology before heading out the door.
You were alone now.
Daryl had passed out while you sewed the wound shut and was snoozing away comfortably now. Or at least he looked comfortable.
You went to pull a blanket over his body when you remembered his wounds from yesterday, deciding now that he was out of it anyways you’d tend to those as well. You thanked him quietly for wearing a sleeveless shirt, being able to reach the wound on his upper arm easily.
You unwrapped the bandage and found the wound healed enough to leave it uncovered.
It had been less than twenty-four hours and his wound looked like it had done a week's worth of healing.
You left it as is, and went to unwrap the wound on his torso for an inspection too. That one had the same, one day old and no longer in need of covering up.
'The hell?' You were unsure how to react to what you were seeing. This shouldn't be possible, right? No one has such good health that those'd heal so quick, especially not someone living in the woods. No way that's a side effect of cannibalism.
"Tha's twice ya saved me, now." Daryl's tired voice made you jump up and away from the cot, but his wince as he let out a laugh had you back at his side in a second.
"You should sleep some more, moving's bad for the wound." Your hand rested on his chest, a kind gesture to accompany your suggestion. A deep sigh left Daryl's lips as he got comfortable, laying on his back a bit off to the side of the cot. But not without grabbing a fistful of your sweater and pulling you down against his uninjured side, moving you without any trouble. "Yer joinin' me. 'Msure yer head's goin' crazy after whatya had ta do."
You couldn't protest at all, even injured he held you down with ease, so you chose to settle down beside him.
His chest was so soft, comfortable as a pillow and his whole body ran hot, like your personal heater. It was surprisingly nice to cuddle up with him.
What caught you off guard, though, was the feeling of Daryl's lips softly pressing against your forehead. You didn't dare to move, shock taking over and keeping you frozen in place. You tried to focus on your breathing but all you could focus on was the touch of his lips, the shape of his scars prominent against your skin.
It didn't feel like any other kisses you had ever gotten. Not because of Daryl's scarred face, but because of the feeling it brought you. It radiated a comfortable fuzzy feeling that had you doze off in a matter of minutes.
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