#her points were invalid

[djevelbl]

Hello everyone! Welcome back to the second edition of Djevel Stalks Someone's Blog, Sees a Comment and Goes On an Out-loud Tangent So. Hard. He Might As Well Make It a Tumblr Post

I'm your host Djevel, and today I'll talk about my own viewpoint on Colly/RuneStraw: completely unnecessary, definitely not asked for yet still delivered to your fyp like that copy of The Book of Bill delivered to that poor sod who bought a church study book on amazon or somethin', exactly how I want my stupid over-the-top opinions to be baybeyyyyyyy~

Now lemme preface this by saying a couple things:

#1: I don't mind RuneStraw half as much as this over-the-top post will make it look like, they're actually cute af together and have a great dynamic going on! I just like to bitch about stuff, I love yapping and the blog blurb already says that I'll "scream into the void about whatever media I'm consuming" - you read that, clicked on read more, don't come at me over this of all things. As a show of good will, I'm writing this as I listen to Love Again - Dua Lipa (really good also fits these two dweebs really well so there's that)

#2: This is just my opinion and if at any point you feel like I gotta remind you of this fact: put the hands away from the keyboard, open the window and smell outside air - it ain't that deep. You can always just not read it

#3: If you so happen to identify yourself as the blog I was stalking before I started typing this out - this isn't criticising your post or anything, I'm just a sleeper agent on the subject and happened to wake myself up with that post lmaooo (also no you're not. I don't wanna have a confrontation over this ❤)

With that out of the way - let the bloodbath begin (probably mine as well LMAO)

Let's start strong and lemme say it already: I don't think the fact that Cup is into Holly is a counter-argument to the "why can't they just stay friends" bc that's not really answering the question?? At least whenever I ask it it's less about the now and more about the whole relationship - beyond giving Cup a solid, tangible goal to reach through rehabilitation and tHERAPY IF HE EVER GETS IT and giving Holly stability in a world much more dangerous than she thought, both of which can be given to them through different means, what does having them kissing do for them as growing characters, and what does it do for the narrative? After all they're puzzle pieces within a larger story, and while I love preaching about considering your characters like people when you sit down to analyze them, you still have to understand them as the puzzle pieces they are: they all have an individual purpose within the story, and the connections you decide to make between them have to give something to them or at least to the narrative. Something nothing else can give them, so we care about those connections.

Something I'm not sure having these two goobers kissing quite accomplishes. But maybe I'm just a hater, idk

Now getting into more of my own perspective on RuneStraw - would you believe me when I tell you I groaned out loud when I read it? Y'know what I mean - any set-up for the ship between book 11 and 12 is valid if it came up to your head when I said it, I probably groaned at all of them lol and that's because to me it came out of nowhere; sure, Holly had mentioned she had a crush on Cup back when she was dating Finnley I think (remember him? yea,,, I miss him too), but she was:

1) Dating someone at the time.

2) Talking about it in a past tense, implying she didn't feel that way anymore.

3) Building off of 2 - with the way she mentioned it, it genuinely sounded like she's distanced herself from the sentiment; from what I remember she talked about in the same way one does about thoughts and feelings one had years ago. Almost like they're from a different person.

These three things led me to believe she wasn't interested in him nor was she gonna be - her crush was based on an image Cuphead willingly puts up as a shield and that by now she knows is fake; her feelings back then were born out of a dark, mysterious and brooding façade he constantly put up that dissipated the moment she had more than a few words exchanged with him. The mysticism was gone, the alure is as well - she was left with a genuine yet broken man, not the put-together mobster she thought he was. And while it isn't impossible she recovered those feelings but directed towards the actual Cuphead, it feels like an odd choice to backtrack her character like that.

There's also the fact that they were the only duo of different genders that wasn't gonna be a romantic pairing, Until they weren't.

And I'll come out and admit it: maybe this point is most of the reason why RuneStraw bothered me as much as it did when it got introduced more heavily. This is the thing: the question of "why can't they just stay friends?" is a valid one to throw into the conversation - as I said, they were the only friends of opposite genders who didn't wanna get into each other's pants, because AliBends is canon (if currently doomed by the narrative), Minnie and Mickey obviously like each other, Donald and Daisy are dating I'm pretty sure, Jake has active feelings for Alice to the point he distanced himself from her to manage his own emotions and keep them in check when it became obvious she isn't actually interested in him romantically, and even if this next one isn't quite the Inky Mystery Team's fault (after all they're working off whatever scraps Quest for the Ink Machine left in its wake) I'll throw it in the ring just to drive the point across: while Cala Maria is her own character and her own person, often times it feels like the deepening of her character and whatever conflicts she may be going through are there for the benefit of Mugman's own struggles and character arc; we don't see much of her reaction at Mugs' heroic but reckless deal with Marcus or her reaction to having been found, we don't hear much about her ink illness beyond that one chapter where she started showing symptoms. For as much personality as she has and for as lovable as she is, sometimes she feels like Mugman's romantic interest first, herself second - probably due to not being part of the main cast, which is fair to some extent.

Personally I don't see RuneStraw as a romantic connection that had to be done necessarily - what each provides to the other's character development (a tangible goal for Cuppy, a much-needed stability within a dangerous world for Holly) is already being provided by their friends, people they should be able to rely on. I guess I just feel a little sad that we don't have many bonding chapters between all the Questers, regardless of duos or dynamics that pair up the best: imagine (and bear here with me, this is getting into the headcanon territory lol) if angels can sense Demon Deals as these are an extension of a demon's magic (something angels can detect) and once Alice comes back from The Upper she notices - really notices, decides to pay attention - that there's something cold wrapped around Cup; they have a conversation where Cuphead tiptoes around his childhood and all the stardust he's gone through in one of the biggest displays of bravery and trust he's given us this far, and Alice knows he's not telling the whole truth but she listens, she listens and shares how it was growing up with expectations of being a great angel someday. He shows her trust, and she gives the same trust out of her own chest to him.

Imagine Bendy and Cala Maria bonding over a trip to the docks - we could get to know her better, how it was like living as a gorgon, sharing experiences between them on how terrible it is to be hated for something you cannot control, and laughing over the good bits their past can offer them. Finding a weird comfort in having been the monster for a little bit, as they could protect those they love with that infamy and the power it came with (Boris for Bendy and Ebi for Maria, of course) - hell, maybe we could hear of Cala's parents! How they were like, their little quirks and tricks, we could read about Bendy considering her lucky and Maria telling him he's found his family here, that those he's forgotten don't matter because they didn't stick around.

Imagine Alice relaying stories of how her younger siblings are rascals and comparing them to Boris, how much he'd get along with them, singing tunes and dancing for the hell of it - helping him get a better grip at dancing, if marginally, and managing to wring laughs out of him by the tons.

Imagine all of them around a table, sweets and treats laid out, as Felix and Alice do their damn hardest to one-up each other in their wild adventures from before they joined the Questers - the cat talking about his mad dash as he escaped that ferocious beast of a tiger, and he shows the scars like your dad shows you his most prized collections as he talks of the most dangerous bits. The angel taking a swig of her alcohol of choice before going into this maddened ramble about the greatest prank war she's ever been in against Jake, and how they both got banned from several places for a whole dang year. Even Sarah gets wrapped up in the shenanigans and fun once Bendy, Cuphead, Mugman, Holly, Boris and Cala Maria all join in to win the title of Wildest Adventure Story; she's just a child after all, even with incomprehensible magic woven into her soul. Maybe all of the house is there, listening as the Questers finally have a moment to breathe and be as young as they are - the oldest is Felix, and he's in his forties at most, he still has life to him.

This is supposed to be a recovery arc, and mantaining healthy friendships with other people can help a long way with those dark thoughts The Labyrinth left them all.

Romantic love isn't the be-all-end-all, it shouldn't be the ultimate objective of a character that makes them become stagnant and void of themselves, and I guess I just want boys and girls to share stories and rooms without their interactions being a making out or being politely pleasant, pick one situation. I guess I'm just socially blind and petty, maybe I'm taking a fanfiction too seriously - after all, it is made by fans and for the fans; it's no professional production, and sometimes it's just better like that.

TLDR: I go way too hard on fictional characters for wanting to boink, more at 10

Ok but now a real TLDR: I just want the Questers to interact more with each other and I'm not talking about the typical duos always formed like they're in school and they choose their bestie for the group project. I mean all the Questers. Also I went in wayy too hard against fictional characters that just wanna fuck in peace ig

[buddiesmutslut]

In s8 & Eddie’s emotional journey with Shannon, I really want him to acknowledge that what he did was NOT the same thing as what Shannon did.

Eddie has always excused Shannon abandoning them bc “he ran first” & I NEED him to see that those two actions are NOT the same. He was literally in a war zone & was still keeping in contact with them and supporting them financially while Shannon took care of Christopher, while Shannon left them in the middle of the night with no forewarning, no financial support & no contact for TWO YEARS.

I’ve made posts before talking about Shannon & how what she went through led her to the choices that it did. Her actions were shitty, but for an overwhelmed early 20’s woman in survival mode, I can 100% empathize with it, (& believe that she could have been redeemed) but I need Eddie to understand that he can’t take accountability for Shannon’s actions, (and vice versa) & that his mistakes don’t eradicate hers.

I think that will also help with taking those rose-colored glasses off & he can start viewing their entire relationship for what it actually was.

[jankwritten]

first psychiatry appointment done. feeling....weird about it.

(venting in the tags. cw for what might be transphobia but i'm not entirely sure lmao)

[myname-isnia]

Honestly this cold would be 5x more bearable if the way our mom used to treat colds when we were kids wasn’t so insanely traumatising

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop

Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.

Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.

They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.

Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.

The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.

It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.

Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.

Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.

Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.

He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.

He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.

"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.

"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"

Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.

"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"

Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."

"I'm sorry Charles"

"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "

Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.

This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.

No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.

Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.

Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.

But Danny didn't stop there.

Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.

People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.

Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.

Not a single staff member in sight, either.

Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.

Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.

If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.

As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.

Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.

He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.

Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '

Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.

[sidsinning]

Alastor 100% did not personally care if Charlie liked him more than Lucifer

She was just the easiest route to piss off Lucifer whose power and rank is greater than his

Which to his narcissistic self is infuriating, especially because he sees Lucifer as someone who is trying to one up his position as the provider for the hotel

AND Lucifer was doing the one thing that pisses him off the most; belittling him/invalidating his power- Lucifer is the ONLY one in the show so far that has the power over Alastor to do so without consequence (besides angels), unlike Husk who he could chain into submission when he tried to belittle him as well (tho ofc Husk's words here were far more insulting than anything Lucifer has said so far)

(Also trying to beat up the dad of the girl who's running your current gig rn is probably not the move here lol)

In Hell's Greatest Dad, everytime he sucked up to Charlie it always ended with him looking to see Lucifer's reaction instead bc his heartfelt words to her are empty in the end

Like here even though its comedic he only comforts Nifty after helping her bc he wants Charlie's approval as another point over Lucifer

In summary, Alastor can't use his usual force to beat someone disrespecting him into submission, so the petty bitch grasped at anything to at least annoy Lucifer which was Charlie

(This doesn't mean he doesn't care about Charlie at all. But his words in this ep were not at all the way he really feels about their partnership lol we all seen the pilot)

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 1

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)

previous / masterlist / next

it all started when he started caring for you.

after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.

to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.

from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.

you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.

your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.

nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.

as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.

there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.

there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!

although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.

his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.

that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.

scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.

your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.

satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.

"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.

"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.

"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.

"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.

"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.

"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.

"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.

splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.

"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.

"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.

your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.

"how many months?"

"two."

"and you didn't tell me?"

"do you want to know?"

"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.

you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?

"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."

"y/n, wait—"

*slam*

before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.

satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?

what if—

no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?

everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.

satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.

"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.

"o…okay, thanks."

minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.

"where's your meal?"

"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.

for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.

while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.

the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.

the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.

like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.

anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.

"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.

"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.

"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.

"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.

the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.

also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.

"d…does that mean—"

"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.

"when will i be moving out?"

satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.

"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.

"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.

satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.

"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.

yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.

fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.

currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.

suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.

"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.

"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.

"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.

"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.

when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.

"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.

there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.

megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.

stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."

"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.

the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.

"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.

if only they knew that your experience was much harder.

"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.

"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.

another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.

"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.

"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.

shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.

"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.

"we were just fine like i have said before."

your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"

"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.

you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.

however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.

once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.

gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.

"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.

"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.

you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.

"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"

*slam!*

"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.

"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.

"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.

"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.

before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.

"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.

"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.

"ho…how's the child doing?"

"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.

"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.

fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.

"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.

the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."

"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.

"but i sure know how shitty you are."

something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"

"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”

“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”

how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.

both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”

the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.

“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”

satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”

and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.

along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.

“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.

satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.

his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.

“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.

meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.

“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.

but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.

“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?

you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.

“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.

“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”

“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.

“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.

wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.

either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.

meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.

“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.

“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.

“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.

as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.

for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.

maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.

it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.

you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.

because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.

[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]

[thewritetofreespeech]

Tender Loving Care

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: after a training accident, Aemond's wife takes care of him. In more ways than one.

tags: heterosexual sex, cowgirl, massage, hand job, cum eating, cranky Aemond is a good boy for his wife, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

Training accidents were as common as breathing if one wanted to master the sword.

If one wanted to hold a blade, then one must also be prepared to suffer its bite. Aemond was well aware of this. Even though it was just training, play fighting for the knights & instructors brought in from all over Westeros to teach the prince, he had been cut before. Nothing serious. Nothing like his eye. He wishes it had been. It would make this latest injury less wounding than the others.

A simple misstep, that was all. His own clumsiness was what put him in this bed. His leg wasn’t broken or maimed, but twisted in his fall, to the point that he could put no weight on it. Or at least that was what the maesters said.

2 weeks. That was the punishment for his own mistake. He was not to leave this bed save to relieve himself and the few moments a day he was granted to stand & test his legs progress. Each day was a new torment. Not for the pain, Aemond could handle that, but the failure of trying his leg and only have it betray him again & again. He wondered how his father did it all those years trapped in his bed. Aemond would have begged for death sooner.

“Husband,” the prince looked up from his window and thoughts of limping over to throw himself out of it, when his wife’s voice came into the room.

One of his few constant visitors during his confinement. Helaena came to visit him but was busy with her children. Aegon only came once, to taunt him about his trip more than anything before he left and a back handed ‘get better Aemond the Fierce!’. His mother came as well but flapped between concern and scolding for his ‘recklessness’. She was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for him, though her concern was not needed. Aemond did not wish to feel more like an invalid than he already did. “What is it?”

“It is time to change the bandage on her leg.” To keep it straight. To keep him bound, he thought with a spat, although Aemond arched a brow at the comment.

“Where is the maester?” His wife was many things, but she was no practitioner of medicine nor magic.

She sighed. “Did you really expect them to come back willingly after last time?” Aemond pursed his lips.

Under the best of circumstances, Aemond was aware that he was not the most agreeable person in the realm. Could anyone really blame him? His existence had taught him over & over that it was better to lash out and cut first, lest you be the one who is sliced. Metaphorically, of course. He wasn’t a mad man like some of his ancestors. And attached to this bed the only weapon at his disposal was his words. He had cursed, jeered, and ranted, honestly uncharacteristic of himself, at the maester who had attended to his leg the day before and had the nerve to tell him his progress was splendid. If it was so splendid then why was he still in this bed? If he was such a great man of knowledge and skill, why hadn’t he healed him yet?! He should go back to whatever dung heap he crawled out of and beg alms for to the gods for wasting a fine Citadel education on an incompetent!!

The prince said a few more unkind things before he forbade any of them from touching him again. He did not think they would take him seriously.

“So, they sent you to do the work of a common barrio healer since they do not wish to do their jobs?”

“I think it was more that they thought you wouldn’t scratch at me. More fool they then, hn?”

Aemond sunk further into his pillows, sulking. He doesn’t mean to scratch at her. He doesn’t mean to scratch at any of them, honestly. He just wanted to get out of his bed and go on with his life. To have the world move on around him, to grow weak and irrelevant in this bed, was the real punishment. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “…thank you…for helping me…”

“You’re welcome Aemond.”

How quick she was to accept his apology. How quick she was to help him, already coming to his side despite his scratching, when he needed her. No wonder he was always alone….

The prince did what he could for her as he raised his leg from the pillow propping it up and held it there while she unwrapped the old dressing. “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” It was not meant as a slight. Just a genuine curiosity on if she knew the proper way to wrap his injury.

His wife just chuckled. “Yes, Aemond. Despite not wanting to come in here on their own, the maesters did instruct me on how to do it properly.” Cowards, he thought. “There! All done.”

Aemond looked at his leg with his good eye and tried to flex at his foot. His nostrils flared at the persistent pain, but it was wrapped correctly. He was impressed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I want you healed as soon as possible as well.” Her hand reached for his on the bed and clasped it. “In fact…I was told of another treatment….one that might help with the…circulation in your leg.”

“Oh?” Aemond was curious about that. Trapped in this bed, his legs were not getting the work out that they normally would. Training aside, the walk around the castle was enough exercise for most lords. He hadn’t been able to go more than a few steps for days. His legs teetered between weightlessness and the sharp pricks of falling asleep all the time. “Will it improve my condition?”

“It….could…” She seemed unconvinced. Avoiding, even. But perhaps that was because the last person who made remarks about the improvement of his condition was threatened to be fed to Vhagar. “Will you let me try it?”

What was there to lose, he thought, and Aemond nodded before he helped her take off his lower bed linens so both his legs were bare. A small vial appeared out from her pocket, and she poured some of its contents onto her hands before rubbing them together and placing them on his leg. “Just…try to relax for me.”

A hefty ask, but he does try. All he could do recently was ‘try to relax’. ‘Rest, my prince’, ‘you need time to heal’. It was all he had heard for the past days, to the point that any word close to ‘relax’ had almost the opposite effect on him. But for her, he does try. For her it worked a little. His shoulders finally untensing. Looking at her in the candlelight. Soft feelings swelling at the touch of her soft hands. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” He answered, almost without thinking. It did feel good. He didn’t realize how stiff his leg was until this moment.

Aemond let out a deep exhale. Not really a sigh, just the release of all the air in his lungs and tension built in his body. His eye closed as he laid back and let his wife work. They aren’t strong, but persistent. He continued to enjoy until he felt her hands shift up higher. Up his calf where his injury was to above his knee. “What are you doing?”

“What??” Her shocked face was particularly adorable in the soft light. Wide, wild eyes. Body frozen save for a soft tremble in her shoulders. “I..I’m rubbing your leg. I told you.”

“My injury is not there though.” He told her logically. Gaze still fixed on her for any kind of reveal.

“I…I know…” Her hands shift to seem to want to move away from him, but she willed them to stay still. “I just thought…maybe there was some other tension I could help you with….”

It was Aemond’s turn to be shocked, but he doesn’t show it on his face like she does. His wife was a lady. A demure, kind, noble one at that. Though she wasn’t nearly as boring & cow eyed as the other noble ladies on offer to him at the time of his betrothal, or so Aemond assumed as he didn’t pay much attention to any of them, boldness like this was not heard of in their marriage. She never denied him. Seemed fond of when they were together; or at least made all the right noises like she did. But it was always he who initiated such acts in their bedroom. To see her offer, and on offer, as he finally took in her appearance and the thin robe she had come to him in, Aemond would not deny that it was quite arousing.

Without another word, Aemond parted his legs further to give her room. If this was her intention, he would not deny her. There was a flush on her cheeks that bleed down her neck towards the V of her robe when he did this. Her resolve seeming to waiver, and disappointment started to drip into his chest at the prospect he may have ruined this too with his terrible attitude, but she continued.

The prince sighed. Gladdened to feel her hands on him again and closed his eye with a newfound desire for his treatment, now that he knew what was going on. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Her coquettish tone was a tonic to his ears. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying touching him and playing with him. His cock jumped as it filled fuller. More aroused by the fact that his wife truly did want him than her hands close, but not close enough, to his member. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Aemond opened his eye and genuinely growled at his wife. Though this game was amusing, enticing, it had been days since he’d found release. Being stuck in this bed did not really spur a person on towards desire. And though she laid with him at night like a good wife she had been spared from her ‘wifely duties’ for some time as Aemond was either still in too much pain from his leg, or unable to move it to perform the act, or in too bad of a mood to make the effort. Having her close. Feeling her touch. It was like the flood gates opened on a dam he had long since locked up and threw away the key on. “Please….”

His kind, noble, demure wife took pity on him, and also took his cock in her hand. Aemond’s head tilted back as he moaned. Her soft hands stroking his member from under his night shirt slowly, deliberately. She had touched him before, so she knew how he liked it, but honestly she could have touched him anyway she liked. Like a clumsy novice that first night they were together, and he still would have melted in her hands.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” Again, without thought. But headier this time. More needy. He opened his eye to look upon his wife and found her staring at him. Those bright eyes darkened with desire. He’d never seen it before; mostly because when they were together her face was either buried in his chest, or shoulder, or in the pillows. Aemond bit his bottom lip hard. Trying not to cum at just the sight of her.

“It’s ok.” She told him in a whisper. Like it was a secret between the two of them. “You can let go husband. Will you let go for me?”

It was the softest command that Aemond had ever heard, and yet it forced him to obey more than any other. His back pressed further back into the pillows as his head tilted back again. His cock spasming in her hand as his seed leapt out from the tip. Covering her hand and perhaps getting some on her pretty robe by her knee. He would have to get her another one.

He opened his eye again after coming down from his high. Just in time to see her lick his seed off the palm of her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Well, the royal seed is sacred, is it not?” Her grin was soft, but mischievous. “We should not waste it.”

Aemond’s hand darted out to grab hold of her arm and drag her down to him in a deep, needy kiss. Apparently the flood gates he thought were released earlier were in truth just a leak in the levees. This was when the dam broke now. The need he had for her burning so hot that he could almost taste blood at the back of his tongue, his blood was boiling so hot.

He tried to spread his legs wider to make more room for his wife, but when he moved, he was reminded (painfully) of his injury. “Damnit!” The prince hissed against his wife’s lips. The throbbing in his leg almost in tandem with his cock.

“Sssh…it’s ok Aemond.” He wanted to bite at her soft words.

It was not ok! None of this was ok! He was injured, in pain, stuck in this bed, and now he couldn’t even fuck his wife! He felt useless. He felt angry. He felt humiliated not being able to do things as a man should, and he just wanted to get back to normal!

Before he could tell her any of this, however, his wife pulled back and removed her robe from her body. Mesmerizing in the fire light. No Valyrian alabaster, but still just as dazzling to Aemond. Shift discarded, his wife raised her hips and inched closer to hover them over his own. “The maester said not to move unless absolutely necessarily.” He wanted to argue that laying with his wife was absolutely necessarily, particularly in this moment, but all his words left him on a moan as she lowered herself onto him. “So you just stay there. L-Let me take care of you.” The little stammer in her voice as she started rolling her hips almost sent Aemond into a frenzy, but he endured.

He genuinely couldn’t move with her on top of him like this and his position on the bed. Though why would be want to? For the first time since his accident, Aemond was actually ecstatic to be stuck here in this bed. His wife lovingly impaling herself on his member. Riding him with skill just short of a dragon rider. If he had the wits still about him, he would have chuckled at his own joke. ‘Dragon rider’. As it was though he was stupid with lust. Dumb, witless, helpless at her mercy as she took from him everything and gave him back so much. He still had brains at least to return the favor.

His wife cried out when he reached up to cup her breast. The weight of them in his hands something he missed. Aemond does not get a lot of time to enjoy them, however, as his wife suddenly fell forward. Covering his body with her own. Hips still moving but at a much snappier pace with the depleted gap between them. He didn’t care though. His hands just repositioned themselves on her other mounds at her backside and pressed her to move faster.

“A-Aemond!” Her cries were his music. The tempo in which he set a new rhythm.

The wet sound of their sexes kissing along with their actual kissing fill the room, until it all stopped in one bright, shining moment of his wife shaking on top of him while her fists tried to fight his pillows and he spilled inside her this time.

He wished he could hold her like this for longer. Her weight a comfort, like a blanket, in his arms. But she rolled over onto his non-injured side to lay beside him. It was good enough. “Do you feel better now?”

Aemond looked down at her, having to turn his head completely as to not just look at her with the sapphire in his eye, realizing at last what this was about. Her idea of a good will effort. To lift his spirits and relieve his tension. Maybe keep him from trying to execute more of the maesters in the castle. “Yes. I’m feeling better.”

She smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Good.”

The fingers from the hand around her own shoulders played with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. “Was this all just for me though?”

His wife looked at him with a perplexed look, but then realized what he was asking and blushed. She was smart enough to figure it out. “Not…all of it. I did want you to be in better spirits but…I have missed you.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips ticked up. Pleased, and pleased with himself. He did not think his sexual prowess was worth much compared to his prowess with a sword or strategy. But to hear that his wife wanted him, truly wanted him, was all the praise he would ever need. “So, you came up with this idea to satisfy both of us, ābrazyrys.”

“It wasn’t….all my idea…” Aemond arched a brow at his wife’s words. Curious now where she had got the idea from, as it had clearly come from somewhere. “Aegon commented on your bad mood and how someone should ‘cheer you up’. He gave me the idea, but the rest of it was all my doing.”

Aemond wasn’t sure which comment he was more shocked about. The fact that his brother knew how he was faring in his recovery, or the fact that he made lewd comments to his wife. He was battering between feelings of an odd sense of touched and white hot furry, but he decided to just let it go for now and enjoy his wife. “Well, thank you, regardless. In future I will try not to scratch at you while I am still confined to this bed. Lest you ask.”

She giggled when he kissed the top of her forehead. “And the maesters?”

“They are on their own.” Idiots. “I make no promises on their safety, but I will…endeavor to be of better character in the future.” At least not threaten to feed them to Vhagar. That seemed a reasonable adjustment.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Regarding the post about Marinette being punished for trusting people and the response to it, this is something I always have trouble explaining because it sounds callous? But fictional characters aren't people. It's not that their lives just so happen to get in the way leading to something bad happened the writers decided that should happen, and it's important that you stop and ask WHY this happens. If the camera is "on" per se, people assume it's relevant and will tie into something larger. So like if the camera is on and all we see is Alya revealing her identity and then the result is she's outed in the same way she was in Heroes Day, the audience naturally concludes it's connected and thus realizes the lesson is either "Alya learns she shouldn't share her identity" OR "Marinette learns she shouldn't trust people" or both.

Secret identities are a great example of this phenomenon. We're NOT shown every time a villain's plan is foiled because they didn't know the heroe's identity, we ARE shown every time a heroe's identity causes friction in their lives. As such, large parts of the audience think of secret identites as inconveniences because that's what's shown (not just in Miraculous Ladybug, in tons of other shows)

Like you are supposed to make connections in Television about what's being shown to you that no one would make in real life (or at the very least no one SHOULD make in real life) because there's a limited space to tell the story and the audience is assuming the writers aren't wasting our time.

If these were real people it would be unreasonable to say because people have their own lives Marinette can't trust them, but in a story where Marinette is the main character who is explicitly always supposed that's. An accurate way to read the story!

And I also understand that this is a very boring construction if you're making headcanons or thinking about these characters! But that's a different lens, it doesn't make the broader writing lens invalid. You're speaking different languages at that point.

Anyway I hope that helps someone, that's my two cents

You summed it up perfectly! There's a ton of valid criticism to be had of Miraculous, but you can tell from the narrative framing that almost all of it comes down to writing choices and not things that are supposed to be seen as in-universe issues even though a lot of fans treat them as such. It's really weird to see things like people complaining about everything revolving around Marinette as if it's a personal flaw of hers and not the result of her being the main character in a fictional world. "Main Character Syndrome" literally pulls its name from the fact that this is how main characters work in a lot of media. It's a flaw when a real person does it, but in terms of story telling, it's extremely normal - and often good story telling - to have everything revolve around your main character or a core cast.

The issue with Miraculous is that they chose a lot of poor conflicts if they wanted Marinette to be the one and only main character, but that's not her fault. She didn't decide to have the rules around identities make no sense. The writers did. She didn't decide to make the main villain Adrien's dad while also keeping Adrien from being involved in the story. The writers did. The list goes on and on and, because none of it reflects badly on Marinette in the writers' eyes, the show doesn't act like Marinette is in the wrong. Remember, these are the same writers who think that Derision was a great episode that added depth to Marinette instead of destroying her character and making her look unhinged. Their judgement is clearly a little skewed.

While the writers love to make bad plot choices, they are generally using proper story telling language to make those choices, which is why I can tell you how characters' actions are intended to be read. The Rena Furtive and Nino example is a great one because it allows me to show that the writers do understand how to set things up. In fact, once they've decided that they're going to do a thing, they pretty much always set it up at a basic level. It's rarely spectacular and often frustrating, but it's never shocking.

In Rocketear, Alya promises Marinette that Nino will never learn about Rena Furtive. The episode then ends with her breaking that promise via the following exchange:

Alya: (sighs) I'm still Rena Rouge. (Nino gasps.) But now I'm in hiding and that's why Ladybug asked me not to tell anyone. Nino: But why are you telling me if no one's supposed to know? Is Ladybug cool with this? Alya: I can't hide it from you, because I love you, Nino, and we share everything.

Look at how this confession is presented. Look at what the dialogue focuses on. When Marinette confessed her identity to Alya, it was all about the confession and supporting Marinette. There was no discussion of this being a problem for Chat Noir or anything like that because - in the writers' eyes - that wasn't a problem for some reason. This is why Chat Noir almost instantly absolves Ladybug of blame once he finds out about the identity reveal (see: Hack-San.) The writers didn't want it to be an issue so it wasn't:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right

But when Alya confesses her identity to Nino, the conversation is not just about her confession. It's about her confession and how she's not supposed to do this. That's why Nino's response is not loving support. Instead, he asks if this is a good idea and if Ladybug knows.

These things are getting focused on because the writers are telling you that this is a bad thing. It's supposed to feel ominous. When I first watched Rocketear, I assumed that the season was going to end with Gabriel getting the fox off of Alya due to Nino because that was an obvious way to raise the stakes and they'd just heavily implied that Nino knowing would be a bad thing. I was, unfortunately, right. The only on screen consequence of Nino knowing is that he outs Alya to everyone in an incredibly forced series of events (see: Strikeback):

(Ryuko successfully prevents the Roue de Paris from hitting them, yet, it flies to the direction where Rena Furtive is. This causes Carapace to panic.) Carapace: Rena! (takes out his shield) Shell-ter! (Carapace's superpower successfully prevents the Ferris wheel from hitting Rena Furtive on top of the Tour Montparnasse. But the information of Rena Furtive's active status shocks the heroes, as well as Shadow Moth.) The heroes: Rena?! Shadow Moth: (from the top of the Eiffel Tower) She's still active?

Of course the Ferris Wheel goes straight for Alya's hiding spot and of course Nino screams her name before casting his power and of course the villain overhears it. It's all so forced and unnatural, which should make it glaringly obvious how much the writers wanted this to happen. This wasn't something they were kind of forced to do because it made sense for the narrative and they wanted to tell a good story. Instead, they wrote an awkward series of events because they really, really, really wanted Nino knowing to be a bad thing that outs Alya so that Marinette loses all of the miraculous even though none of this makes much sense.

How the hell did Gabriel hear Nino's shout from so far away? Is he able to overhear everything the heroes are saying? How does Nino even know that Alya is hiding there? And since when was a Ferris Wheel a threat to these guys? Your girlfriend is a magical girl and she's in her magical girl form, dude. You could drop a building on her and she'd be fine, a thing you have to know because this scene literally goes on to have Chat Noir go flying into a building, hitting it so hard the cement literally cracks, and no one really cares. I guess it's fine if Adrien is a punching bag, but Alya must be protected at all costs...

Anyway, while the above series of events was annoying, none of it was surprising. In fact, it would have all be perfectly predictable even if Alya outing herself was that treated as a more neutral event. Her choice leading to bad things falls perfectly in line with a truly bizarre running theme in the show: outing your identity to the person you love romantically is a bad thing that leads to bad consequences. That's why Chat Blanc and Ephemeral ended the world and why Nino knowing cost Ladybug the fox and why the character they call Joan of Arc has to give up her miraculous to be with her love and why the Kwami's have this absolutely asinine dialogue in Kwamis' Choice:

Plagg: Sugarcube! Having to force them to choose between love and their mission is just awful! Maybe Master Fu was wrong to choose them. Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength. Plagg: But the impossible part of that love is destroying them, and I know a thing or two about destruction. Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do? Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must… free them of us.

This is the voice of the author telling you that outing the identities is not and never will be a good choice for the love square. Never mind that Alya is allowed to know Marinette's identity or that Gabriel finding out is what actually ended the world in the alternate timelines or that Felix outted himself in public but is still wielding or that freaking Gabriel was allowed to know half of the temp heroes' identities while they were still actively wielding. For some reason, those things don't matter to the narrative, probably because romantic love wasn't involved. The "identity reveals are a bad thing" rule only seems to apply when romantic love is a key element to the point where it's a reoccurring theme in this supposed power of love show.

[jadeslayter]

︶ ◜ᴗ◝ ࣪ 𓈒・ 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍' 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𓇼

꒰ : 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 ˚ ｡ ⋆

★ The jjk men have a marathon session . ★ Pairings ⦂ Sukuna , Geto , Toji x Fem!Reader ⭒ (separate)

꒰ ୭ৎ 𓂃 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 ׂ ׅ

♡⃕⠀ - short drabble : scratching, choking, somnophilia, (dom & feral jjk men cus yesss), degradation, praise, overstim, piv, creampies, spanking, dub-con, dumbification, edging, domestic Geto, power dynamic, true-form kuna, masochism

୫; - pet names : doll , (pretty) girl, baby, princess, mama, ma ୫; - wc : 3k

─── ⋮𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

THE ROOM WAS HOT. Sweltering, even— thick air swallowing your shaking body as you convulsed underneath that bastardly curse; his nails digging angry crescent moons into the plush of your supple thighs– reddened from his previous assault. “Takin’ that c-ock so good,” Sukuna would praise, his warm breath bellowing directly into your face as his hips snapped forwards with ungodly haste, stretching your overstimulated cunt until your velvet walls sheathed the entirety of his size. He wanted you full of shaft– full of him. “I should make it..fuckbaby,” He paused, reeling his head back in pleasure. “Should make things h-arder for..you.. yeah?”

This was not a question, but a statement— Sukuna would ask these things to make you feel as though you had some sense of power over the situation. You hadn’t, but it never hurt to imagine you did. Sukuna preferred things this way, and you’d accede, too. He was certain of it. 

The man’s calloused hands— two of them, the other pair gripped firmly behind your knees, locking your thighs against your chest in a tight mating press— travel along the lines of your body, grazing over your sweat slicked skin. Lower and lower— tantalizingly lower. 

Until they were nestled within the cute folds of your cunt, his big fingers working the bud from hiding as he pinched her between two rough fingers. Not gently, either. He wanted to hurt you; and so he would. He’d squeeze on your little clit with malice, massaging the bud aggressively between an index and a thumb. His other hand spread your lips, sheen coating his shaft in sinful pleasure. 

You’d be cockhungry and desperate by the time he was finished with you— a sloppy puddle of a woman drenched in her own arousal. “‘Kuna—Fuck,’Kuna!” You would scream into the recesses of your lovers neck, inundate scent enveloping you; sukuna laying his full claim to every inch of your being. It was impossible to escape him. 

Your toes curled, his precious cock head jutting against an all too familiar patch of textured velvet. Sukuna was an expert at anatomy— your anatomy, only. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and he’d studied hard to understand it. He’d shoved every inch of himself inside of you to accustom himself with your pleasure points, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. 

“Shut up n’ take that fuckin’ dick,” He would be so mean with you, degrading you— invalidating you crudely as he split you on his cock. He just couldn’t help but lose his sense of stability, you knew that, Doll. 

He was very lenient with you; very loving, in all the ways he knew how to be. Not many. But, the effort was still there. 

His body would press down against yours— his weight heavy above you as his waist slammed down into you; his inches slipping inside of you with ease, slicked with your pitiful fucking orgasms. Over and over (and over). 

He made you cum so much. Until you were physically unable to move beneath him— it just felt so good. But seeing you immobile wasn’t enough; he needed you brain dead. He needed you to rely on him, you could do that, couldn’t you? You would. He’d make sure you fucking did. 

“Kuna, fuck—right there, baby— hohgod, g’na cum!” The words ripped from your throat, your moans bellowing within the echoes of your bedroom. “yesyesyes, Kuna— fuck m’ cummin’” 

“Yeah, baby, give me what I want— gimme ‘notha one, make it g-ood. Don’t you dare disappoint me.” He meant what he said. His words were sharp in your ears; his breath hitting against the shell of your ear. 

And God, would you fucking cum. All over his cock— for the nth time. Your release flowed out of you with haste, coating his shaft in another layer of your euphoria. Your body would convulse, shivering desperately beneath the man once more as you struggled to overcome your high. 

His thighs wouldn’t stop their smacking; his heavy balls slapping against your cunt with hellish velocity— Godspeed. He was so careless. 

“Thas’ it, Pretty girl,” He huffed, his chest heavy with the weight of his own impending orgasm. “Giveitall— give it t’ me. Not stoppin’ til’ you’re fallin’ asleep on my cock.” 

─── ⋮𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“DONTSTOPDONTSTOPDONTSTOP,” You’d pant, latching your flailing hands around the bare abdomen of your lover– his skin dewy with sweat as he forced another inch of himself into your sopping walls; cunt swallowing his shaft expectantly. 

He was right where you wanted him— ramming against that spot with genuine rapture; his hips rocking into you gingerly. “Don’t stop, baby? Yeah?” He’d mimicked, his hands traversing the frill of your nightgown; thin silk hiked over your thighs, pooling above your bellybutton. 

Cute little lolita top he bought you on the night of your honeymoon— the night you were finally taken by a real man— it had always looked so good on you; the blue of the fabric slightly faded over the years of your marriage. He loved seeing you in his clothes; albeit his personal wardrobe, or the clothing you’ve accumulated with his money. The feeling never faltered. 

Geto would be obsessed with the way your perky nipples peak from below the fabric, sensitive buds hardened underneath the restrictions of your nightgown. 

A strained chuckle would pass Geto’s pre-parted lips, heavy breaths and groans resounding within the man's throat. “Thas’it, Baby,” Suguru would moan, the intensity of his thrusts sending recoils through your body. You’d grip the headboard for stability– fuzzy brain swarmed with indescribable pleasure. 

Geto was an elephant when it came to retaining information; all information. Names, dates, locations, everything. So, naturally, Geto’s interests peaked when you had mentioned being woken up to the rock of his hips between your thighs; how foreign his cock would feel inside of your sleepy lil’ cunt while you dreamt of him, and how familiar it’d feel when you awoke to the sensation of spilling on his length. 

So here he lay, a soft hand wrapped firmly around the width of your neck, the other clasped firm within the bend of your knee, your ankle resting upon his broad shoulders. That cute little nightgown of yours clinging to the curvature of your body with sweat. 

You were so pretty when you were like this— cum drunk, lust clouding your comprehension. You only knew how to ask for more and more. You only spoke Geto’s language, and he had no problem following suit. You were his— through and through. 

“This pussy’s s’ fuckin’ good, Baby,” A husky groan reverberating in his throat— adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “‘specially when i work her up in the mornin’.” You felt so good around him. Looked good, too; cute little cunt puffy with overstimulation; your holes clenching so desperately around his thick cock. 

And those eyes, Jesus, those eyes, Baby. He could stare into them for hours; big curious orbs blown with pleasure. Hearts practically morphed your irises; delectation overwhelming. This— in all of its glory— is why he wanted you in missionary; wanted to see that pretty, drool-crusted face as he edged you into oblivion.

He almost felt bad for you— princess pussy so sensitive, yet so eager for a release. So needy, only for his package. “So—hnh— full’f me, yeah? Wanna cum, Princess?” His pelvis pistoned between your shaking thighs as the heat of a prolonged orgasm washed over the both of you, coiling the knot within your stomach with yearning.

Geto would roll his hips into you, slowing his pace as he ground himself deep within your velvet walls, pressing your abdomen into the mattress— his raven locs veiling against your forehead; hair disheveled atop his head. He was so focused. Determined. 

He looked the most attractive this way, his skin ripe with droplets of sweat; blotchy patches dotting his arms— soon-to-be-bruises forming just beneath his flesh. He looked so strained above you, thrusting everything he had into your cunt as he distributed his weight into his forearms, his nose directly against yours. 

He’d exhale against your lips, beridding his lungs of their oxygen before pulling you into a sensual, slow, kiss— his lips entrapping yours as they began to swell with pressure; his teeth boring indentions into the plush. 

Geto would tilt his head slightly to the right , angling his nose before yours as he deepened the kiss; his desperation palpable. His tongue would slick over your lips; a gesture of request— and he’d slip himself within your mouth when you oblige, his tongue exploring your cavern hungrily. 

You’d dance in tango, tongues swirling vehemently as the kiss grew increasingly sloppier with every reposition of your lips against his; saliva glistening along the corners of your lips, some dripping upon your chin.

His cock continues its cruel assault, bucking away at your g-spot with malice; his hips shifting slightly to elicit more lude noises from your throat— to which he would swallow up in that kiss, drinking down your essence as he fucked himself into you. 

He was fucking you so good. The pleasure had your eyes rolling into your skull, your toes pointed with tension. 

So fucking close. Just a few more thrusts—

Geto’s lips unlatch themselves from yours, a bubble of intimacy stringing between you before snapping, the droplets warm against your flesh as they land.  

A deep sigh; and then it’s gone. Everything. The movement of his hips ceases between your bruised thighs— begrudgingly, ‘course. You’d feel so empty; so indifferent, so.. frustrated. He’d taunted you with the idea of an orgasm yet again; eighth time in counting.

“Not yet,” He’d huff as he’d collapse above you, his flesh adhering to yours with sweat— lots n’ lots of it. “Just a little bit longer, You can hold it f’ me, huh?” 

─── ⋮𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

SOMETIMES WHEN TOJI fucked you, you were physically incapable of making any noise. 

It just felt that good— your little cock hungry brain unable to process any sounds other than pitiful whimpers, occasional gasps when he’d force the arch of your back deeper into the mattress. 

Especially after he’d ram the entirety of his dick into you; his balls slapping against your thighs, girthy 7 inches bottoming out within you, not the slightest shiver of repentance. This was your punishment, after all. What did he have to be apologetic for? 

Certainly not your actions. You were responsible for atoning those. And you would, he’d make sure of it. Your careless transgressions were what got you in this position to begin with— slutty little holes on display for him while you drooled helplessly upon the cotton of his pillowcase, your saliva soaking the fabric through and through. 

“D’aww, Mama,” He’d chuckled ingenuienly through his teeth, callous fingers adamant with their search between your legs, his broad fingertips circling your clit prudently with the resolve of his amatory impurity. He wanted you so bad; wanted to split you open with his seed, fill your breeding chamber until you were swollen with every last drop. “T’s too much? hmm? c’mon, use that mouth, t’s all ya’ good for, idntit?” 

Toji was so mean. 

So condescending as he forced his vigilantic tournament upon your cunt. She could take it. 

But God, it’d feel so good. He’d feel so good inside of you, stretching your velvet over the length of his cock, burrowing himself into your cute lil’ g-spot. He loved being inside of you, even if it were for the benefit of punishing you with the sadistic means of fucking you until you nearly safeworded. 

He hadn’t wanted to hurt you, Doll. Only a lil’ bit. Out of spite, ‘course. 

You’d manage to force a lamentable little whine once more, nodding your head frantically as your sweat adhered your forehead to the pillowcase. “Please,t’stoomuch, Jiji— god, rightthere!” Muffled moans swallowed up by the material your husband were fucking you into. 

“Yeah, right there?” His tone was teasing, his voice pitching as he mocked your desperate pleas of pleasure; how very piteous you sounded begging him to continue with his assault on your insides. Had you no shame, baby? But t’s okay, Toji preferred you absolutely fucking stupid on his dick. Easier for him to thrust his seed into your cunt, because you were simply unable to object. Not like you would, anyway. 

Your arch deepened, the fat of your ass recoiling against Toji’s brutality— skin slapping whilst your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. So fucking good. Toji knew just what you needed— knew your body better than you had. 

Knew how to push you beyond your limits; have you a crying, screaming mess on his bedsheets. He loved seeing you so voracious; all created by him. 

“You don’t get to say that,” He breathed, his thrusts erratic from behind you— peak of his orgasm approaching rapidly, desirous cockhead famished for its release. “‘T’s too much’, this ‘s—..fuck, Baby— This is your f-ault.”

A coy chuckle, and then he’d shove your face deeper within the recesses of the mattress— his right hand heavy above your head as he crushed your frame into the foam. His fingers entangle your roughly tousled hair— the singe of his grip searing through your scalp. “If you’d learn patience, I wouldn’t have ‘t fuck you this way—“ His large knuckles strategically angle your head, his fist pressing your left cheek into the pillow. “Now you’re stuck, Mama,” 

Toji was so ashamed of you, he had trained you so much better than this. You couldn’t even resist your primal urges long enough— couldn’t respect yourself or your husband long enough to wait for his return. Had to call and call his phone; sending him nude photos of those perfectly unbruised breasts, squeezed between a pair of elbows Toji so desperately wanted tied behind your back. 

Your soft eyes would gaze up at the camera as you angled your tits into the frame, snapping the photo and shooting it off to your preoccupied, very busy, husband. Caption being a string of pouting emojis, your desperation almost sickening. Toji’s eyes glossed the minute he opened the inappropriate image, his cheeks warm with the creeping effects of your careless neglect. 

He had you stripped bare and teary eyed in no less than 10 minutes after walking in the door; no hooking his keys, hanging his coat; slipping off his shoes— straight to the bedroom, straight to burying his cock inside of your disgustingly greedy cunt. “Yeah, this’s what ya’ wanted, wadntit’, fuckin’ whore.” He had panted against your skin after his second soul snatching nut, gleaming as he watched the cum spill from your hole. You were able to speak then, strings of curse words and affection spilling from your raspy throat. 

But now he’s pushing out his fifth, and all you can do is lay breathless, pinned to the mattress as your body jolts from the force behind— your ass bruised in bright red handprints, purple and dark green splotches adorning either side of your waist's curvature. Your cunt tight and unwinding against your lovers intrusion as the heat of your orgasm buzzed overhead.

“Oohbaby, t’s’ close, huh? Can feel that pussy clenchin’, Ma.” He rasped deeply, beads of sweat dribbling down onto your back as he rammed himself into you. “Go ‘head, Baby, cum on this dick— fuck, yeaahh baby, M’ cummin’, too,” 

He shot another thick load within you, your pussy clenching down— spazzing helplessly against shaft as he bucked, the accuracy and rhythm of his thrusts receding. He gripped onto your waist for support, balancing himself before lifting his right leg and sitting the flat of his foot against the bedsheet, angling himself inside of you to better overstimulate that poor lil’ g-spot. 

Your screams would prove futile; the fatigue of your cries evident, though no sound emits, your vocal chords just too strained. The sting hurt so good, overstimulation paralyzing you. You really were stuck at the mercy of this man, cumming repetitively on his cock like it’d be your last. 

His thighs resounded off of yours as he fucked the both of you through your paralytic highs, his dick splitting you deftly. It wasn’t long before the peak of yet another release overcame, the sensation sending a rush of euphoric bliss over you as you gasped, your body language giving way to your liberation; shivers and jolts of electricity firing through you— a tired arch faltering underneath him. 

Exactly the way Toji wanted you. Punishing you was so much easier when you obeyed. When you sat and took your punishment like a big girl— Toji’s big, strong girl. Like you’d take this one, over and over, until he decided he was done with you. 

And he was far from that. You hadn’t begged enough, and that just wouldn’t do. No matter, you’d pay with every drop of cum you pushed out of that swollen, sweat-slicked cunt. 

“Gimmie anotha’ one, c’mon, cream until you’ve learned your fucking lesson— til you learn the privilege of restraint.”

© JadeSlayter 2024 Tumblr

[dollarbils]

did you break up with him? | b.e.

billie x fem!reader

context. you cheated on your boyfriend with billie, so she asks you to break up with him. when you see her at an event, she comes to see if you’ve fulfilled your promise.

warnings. smut kinda, fingering, harsh words/ degrading, mean billie.

part 1

“there you are, pretty.” billies voice interrupted your conversation with your boyfriend. your cheeks burned up at the sound of her voice. you excused yourself from the conversation and he merely smiled and walked away, not a clue in the world.

“billie.” you said directly, no real point to the greeting.

“have you been avoiding me?” she came closer to you, resting an arm on the high table. her eyes doing the flirting for her.

“no? it’s not really socially acceptable to go up to your ex at an event your attending with your boyfriend.” she just smiled at your defence, invalidating it without having to speak.

“an ex your fucking, might i add.” she said this so openly that you scolded her, though her smile never faltered.

“ashamed?” she asked, the tone condescending.

“no.” her eyebrows lifted slightly at the response before the surprise left her face.

“good. at least one things changed.” she pulled you by the arm, forcing you to follow her wherever she was heading.

“billie.” the protest came out hushed, not wanting to catch attention or cause a stir.

“shut up.” she weaved her way through the tables, glaring at anyone who looked puzzled at your weak struggles.

“god would you stop moving.” you’d arrived in the girls bathroom and she’d pushed you into an empty stall, not checking to see if you were alone. she didn’t care.

“what the fuck billie?” you questioned her actions but she rolled her eyes before forcefully kissing you. she held the back of your head so that it wouldn’t press to hard against the wall while she basically sucked your lips off. there was nothing sweet about the kiss, nothing sweet about her grip on your hips. it was all rough and aggressive. out of either anger or frustration, you couldn’t exactly decipher it.

“you don’t learn, baby.” she shook her head softly, biting her lip while staring you down. your hair was already disheveled, and your lip gloss smudged. she spun you around and brought her body to yours, her firm grip on your head pushing your cheek into the wall.

“billie.” it was an empty cry, meant to achieve nothing.

“cry all you want, you’ll take what i give you.” her hand bunched up your dress so that it rested on your hips, exposing your underwear. her fingers traced circles around your covered entrance, but the fabric was so thin it drove you wild. you arched your back as her hands left your head, moving to your neck.

“so wet, baby.” she remarked as her fingers dipped past your underwear to find you practically dripping for her. she pinched your clit without warning, then moved her fingers to your entrance, circling it. you moaned louder than you’d wanted to and she squeezed your neck.

“be fucking quiet, you don’t want someone running over to your boyfriend. tell him who’s fucking you in the bathroom huh?” you were about to form words but her two fingers dove into you, stretching you out.

“such a slut, you should be ashamed.” her words were aggressive but it did nothing to lessen the growing knot in your stomach. one ready to come undone any minute.

her fingers took residence in your mouth, in attempt to quieten your whimpers. her body kept you flush against the wall of the bathroom stall, her fingers plunged deep into your wet cunt keeping you defenceless. drool started to pool out of your mouth but you couldn’t stop it, her fingers going deeper, brushing against the back of your throat making you gag.

“when you break up with him it’ll be my dick your gagging on and drooling for, baby.”

“did you break up with him?” she asked, referring to your boyfriend who she’d seen you with earlier tonight. it was an answer she obviously knew, but she wanted it to come from you. your muffled cries didn’t seem to provide an answer.

“hm? tell me.” her fingers were still deep in your mouth, contradicting her words. it took every ounce of strength in you to shake your head as she made a sound of disapproval. your walls were clenching around her fingers but she just kept curling them in all the right ways. you couldn’t think straight.

“didn’t think so.” her hand left your mouth and it took you a while to process what had happened, your mind in such a haze it couldn’t comprehend. but you weren’t bouncing on her fingers anymore. in fact, when you turned to look at billie, she was sucking your wetness off them, reminding you of your denied orgasm.

“billie, what the fuck?” you whined, you stared at you, her face void of emotion but her eyes dark and daunting. her fingers left her mouth with a pop as she poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

“hm?” her tone was innocent, as if unaware of the problem.

“you can’t leave me hanging!” you whined desperately while she silently revelled in it.

“you’re not my girl anymore, it’s not my problem. go ask your boyfriend to finish the job, i bet he can’t.” she shrugged her shoulders and unlocked the door to the bathroom stall. you were left utterly speechless.

“call me when you break up with him.”

part 3

[daybrightsims]

Alright, they've lived in my brain too long; Time to air out my thoughts about the polyamory in BG3

To give a little context: I am currently ethically non-monogamous with my primary partner of almost 7 years. I am not a monolith of thought when it comes to polyamory/ENM/open relationships. These are my own personal thoughts and feelings. I've also completed the game with Astarion and Halsin romanced. Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

TL;DR - I don't share the current opinion of whether or not Astarion is okay with Tav pursuing Halsin and the discourse around his agency and choices in the relationship are bumming me out and frustrating me.

I am getting increasingly frustrated about the conversation about Astarion being polyamorous/okay with Tav being with Halsin in the game, primarily because I think a lot of the "think pieces" are coming from 1) monogamous people who have only ever been monogamous, 2) monogamous people who have been burned/cheated on/forced into polyamory by a partner (I feel for ya'll, that wasn't okay), 3) people who are very VERY protective of Astarion, and 4) people who are blatantly uncomfortable with polyamory. My goal is not to invalidate anyone's experiences, but to share an alternate perspective.

I do think that Astarion is not only okay, but happy with Tav dating Halsin. I glean this from how he responds to being poly with ANY OTHER companion. If you ask him to share with literally anyone else, he will say no and give his reason.

Gale: He doesn’t want to be in a love triangle (which with Gale, it would be).

Lae’zel: He’s uncomfortable and Lae’zel would kill him (also true).

Wyll: He knows Wyll is old fashioned and monogamous.

Karlach: He knows Karlach’s feelings for you are strong and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that (he even says he’d be cool with an arrangement but knows Karlach will need all of your affection based on what she’s been through).

Shadowheart: He would be cool IF Shadowheart had more experience and ya’ll were together longer. But he knows Shadowheart is fragile in her current state.

Minthara: He REALLY doesn’t like this idea and will dump you immediately.

I did also see that ***SPOILER*** they updated or are updating some of the spawn Astarion language to have issues with your affair with Mizora should you pursue it, and it requires a persuasion/deception role to keep you two together.

Up to this point in your relationship with Astarion, he has become more comfortable voicing his opinions and concerns with you. He is learning to value his autonomy and his non-physical relationships. He will tell you when he doesn’t want to do something. In fact, he’ll break up with you over pushing his boundaries. He is fine with you pursuing the Drow twins and fine with you sleeping with Haarlep, even comforts you when Haarlep uses your form. So when he says he is okay with you pursuing Halsin, he means it. Yes, he voices his insecurity with you that you may be pursuing Halsin because you and he haven’t had sex in a while. But he acknowledges that Halsin has experience in this arrangement and doesn’t pose a threat to your relationship. Plus, if you kiss Halsin in front of him, he’ll say “don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show.”

To me, the idea that this is the ONE thing that Astarion doesn't have agency over in an arc of showing he can speak up for himself is you sleeping with Halsin is an idea that takes more agency from Astarion. He is a grown man. A 240 YEAR OLD man. That trauma he's endured does not mean he needs to be babied or coddled because he can't make his own choices. I think that's an unfair assumption to put on him that Halsin and Tav being together is the ONLY thing he can't enforce his boundaries on.

If he didn't want you to be with Halsin, he would say no like every other monogamous character in the game.

If you want a good example of someone saying yes just because they want to keep you, look at Karlach. You can tell she is HEARTBROKEN when you ask her, but she says “I don’t want to lose you”. That is not an enthusiastic participant in a polyamorous relationship. Astarion says “yeah, go for it! Just give me some reassurance”. Polyamory is not immune to insecurity. I've asked for reassurance in my own relationships and so has my primary partner. That’s not unenthusiastic. That’s realistic as shit. If you ask him about the relationship after you finish his questline, he doesn’t need reassurance because you’re having sex again. That’s also super realistic.

Am I sensitive to this as someone who practices ENM? Almost certainly. It's hard to see a lifestyle I live be villainized and claimed to be "forced" onto characters. I was actually really excited that I could pursue both Astarion and Halsin, and that Halsin places so much importance on consent and not misleading your partner. And it sucks SOO much to see one of my favorite characters be reduced to "oh, he's only doing it because he's afraid to lose Tav." It makes me almost feel bad for liking the interactions between them and enjoying to option. Do I think people mean to make me or other poly people feel bad? No.

But it does.

Headcanons are headcanons. I get it. People are absolutely allowed to interpret the poly aspect of BG3 how they want to. People are allowed to feel uncomfy with how it's portrayed and not pursue it. But it still bums a queer ENM Astarion and Halsin lover out.

Now excuse me whilst I live out my Astarion x Halsin x Tav polycule fantasies in the form of fanfiction.

[beannoss]

Something I think about a lot and wonder if maybe gets overlooked in Twilight’s story and as vitally indicative of his character is actually in the very first chapter:

Anya isn’t needed for Strix. Twilight decides to adopt her anyway.

[Spoiler warning: Mostly this post deals with early chapters already in the anime but there is reference to chapter 62, which has not yet been animated and will be in season 3]

Twilight decides it — “I’m going to rework the mission so it doesn’t involve a child because that’s too dangerous” and he’s 100% right! Donovan Desmond is canonically a far right warmonger with fascistic authoritarian aims. His government made liberal use of the SSS — a group to mirror the Stasi — who continue to operate in morally dubious ways (much more likely they’re actively morally reprehensible, though we’ve mostly only had rumours of that so far). From what we can tell, Desmond is at best an absent father and likely actually worse than that: if that's how he treats his own children, imagine how he might treat others. And the timeline seems to indicate that the experimentation performed on Anya was done under Desmond's government — even if Twilight isn't aware of experimentation on children, he is aware of both human and animal experimentation under Desmond's government. Taking all that and also the complexity of Strix's aims, undoubtedly there were other things that could be done, more straightforward if not necessarily easier.

So. Why? Why entertain the change at all? And then, having entertained it, why go back when the reasoning is indisputable?

On the Doylist level, I think Endo wanted to ensure that Anya had some agency within the set up — Endo also does this with Yor. It would be much harder to be on Twilight’s side fully, or to trust him on an ethical level/take him as any sort of moral authority, if he were just straightforwardly using these two people. To have them be active and consenting participants (arguably to actually be affirming the arrangement: Twilight sets it up, but Anya and Yor actually make it happen) even if the audience only knows the depth of their knowledge/motivations/etc currently, shifts the power dynamic in important ways.

But it also the set up tells us important things about Twilight. He is largely impatient, cold, detached in chapter one. His overarching feelings towards Anya are, I think, real annoyance, real confusion, and real impatience. He just doesn’t understand this damn kid and it turns out she’s a person which is frankly unacceptable — he’d needed and anticipated an automaton, ideally of himself in miniature form. (Though I think one could ponder whether Twilight was, in many ways, an automaton himself at this point, but that's maybe for another meta 🙃)

He’s not entirely unmoved of course — we're given to understand he’s affected when Franky tells him how many times Anya’s been adopted and returned, and isn't amused by Franky's joke about names. Franky's comment — "Just don't get attached" — reinforces this. The prospect of “the future” perturbs Twilight when he’s reading the parenting books. His initial reaction to Anya’s kidnap is horror. All these are true too.

Then there’s also this, from earlier in the chapter:

It’s exposition, yeah, and it’s also exposing. "Hopes" and "joys" are very specific words to describe those events. It could simply have been "A marriage? An ordinary life?" but describing them as such — hope for marriage; joy in ordinary life — expose something of what Twilight feels about those two experiences and, on the flipside, they expose what he deems he's lacking. No hopes of intimacy; no joy in (an ordinary) life. There's an argument as well, of course, that he's being ironic but I don't think that actually invalidates the above analysis. Drawing attention to 'hope' and 'joy' at all are revealing, regardless of Twilight's tone in thinking of them. I think it's also interesting this panel, taken in conjunction with a pair of panels in chapter 62, Twilight's backstory. The above is almost a pulled out version of this below panel of Twilight's recollection of his childhood, and of course the returning image of not just a rubbish bin but a rubbish bin on fire when it comes to disposing of his identity:

Back to Strix. Both his final interaction with Karen and the whole everything of the framing of Strix is making Twilight think (and feel, ahem) things that he hasn't for some time. Twilight decides, I’m reworking this. It can’t proceed this way. Not because Anya is a pain in his ass, not because she’s not as (apparently) intellectually advanced as he’d originally thought, not even because he thinks he can find another child who would better be exactly what mission parameters called for. No:

And what changes his mind is Anya asking to come home.

One of the important parts of this to me is this:

He seeks consent.

This moment is a keystone, I think, to understanding Twilight. It’s also more telling than he maybe realises. Twilight is decisive — we all laugh because he spirals at the drop of a hat when his daughter or wife look even mildly upset but outside those (also very telling) scenarios, he makes decisions and he pursues them. Often he makes decisions quickly. He’s a dab hand at it; it’s a large part of why he’s as good a spy as he is.

He’d decided to change Strix.

Anya asks him, in essence, not to.

So, he doesn't.

But it's wild that he entertains keeping her request at all — why? Why even entertain it? It’s dangerous; it’s impractical; there are too many moving parts outside his direct control; Anya isn’t the sort of child he’d wanted for the mission if he’d spent any time thinking about what a child might actually be like; Strix is in many ways an extremely long shot anyway, Desmond could just stop attending for reasons unknown and unrelated; etc.

So, yeah, why? Maybe because of this —

In conjunction, I often think of this moment in the cruise arc:

Twilight first naming the feeling as lonesome, and secondly tacitly conceding that he perceives Yor as a companion and that that relationship is important to him, something to be missed. What makes this for me though is that Anya calls this out "Papa's you're so sappy" and Twilight's reaction is that of someone caught-out. He doesn’t say “nuh-uh!” but he may as well have. Essentially, something landed a bit close to home, hm? Maybe some of that hope for marriage? A soupçon of joy of an ordinary life?

Twilight’s loneliness underpins many of his decisions with his family — probably without him being fully conscious of it. I think he is at least somewhat conscious of it, but also if he looks too closely... Well, best not to. I could fill this post, I think, with images that demonstrate his loneliness throughout the series; that sorrowful/pensive close-up of his eye(s) is one of the abiding motifs for Twilight throughout. I'd probably start with this one from Twilight's backstory arc:

Anya's request plays directly off his loneliness. Still though, he doesn’t immediately capitulate — he emphasises Anya’s choice. Is she sure? The last day has been scary for a child (and for him, but he's ignoring that part) and Twilight, in his increasing recognition that Anya is a person, is probably aware in the back of his mind that he hasn’t exactly been warm or welcoming or at all patient with her. Things that people respond to — he's otherwise excellent at manipulating people, so of course he understands this. So. Given she'd just had this scary experience, given he hasn't exactly been great with her: Is she sure? She wants to come home — with him?

I think the moment may get a little lost because Anya says something riffing off his own earlier thoughts and self-revelation (featuring that shadowed, lonely eye motif again!)

Were this a post about Anya, I’d talk about how it’s an important character moment for her as well by way both of demonstrating her agency/choice and also that she isn’t nearly as dumb as Twilight thinks (and the audience, maybe, also thinks).

But in my view, she didn’t actually need to say anything about it making her cry. I think she could simply have said yes in that moment and Twilight would have agreed.

Twilight’s an unreliable narrator; he’s disconnected from his heart and that shrouds his own motivations from himself — something he actually also concedes in this chapter!

And it shrouds from us just how much he actually understands himself. He’s also a master of deflection. Easy to assume or say that bringing Anya home is just to align with Strix. Nothing more to see here; nothing else going on. But also that ripping off of the mask in the panel above — and the literal 'riiip' sound effects — also indicate to us that this is an unveiling to himself.

In my view, Twilight agreeing to Anya's request, deciding to go back to original mission parameters, actually shifts his motivations, subtly. Now he’s committed not only to the original mission goals, but also to Anya. He needs Anya to succeed at Strix, not only for Strix's sake, but also because otherwise the mission will end and she’ll have to go back to the orphanage, and he’s just agreed with her not to do that (not right away, in any case). I don’t think at this point he’s thinking it’s forever — his thoughts throughout the manga indicate he still expects the Forgers to be temporary. I don't think the shift in motivation is necessarily even conscious, but given the set up, I think something inside Twilight recognises that agreeing to bring Anya home is a compact, jointly engaged. Mostly all this has become subsumed into Strix: he makes decisions. He pursues them. He deflects, even from himself. Of course it's just for the mission; this saved him the trouble of reworking it, of figuring out something else. Nothing more to see; no need to think any more on it. And to be fair to him, Strix is very high stakes, resting pretty solely on his shoulders, so of course that is, objectively, motivation enough. Why even consider beyond that?

But I personally think that to the extent he's aware of it at all, there is something else going on, that he wants to have Anya for as long as it takes him to work something else out for her. If that's the case, then of course, we have Occam’s razor: the simplest solution may be the best one.

Maybe Twilight should just keep Anya himself, eh?

[Image description: gif from Spy x Family season 1, episode 1. Twilight and Anya have just found out Anya passed her entrance exam and are overjoyed. Celebratory, Twilight picks Anya up and swoops her into the air as they smile at one another. End image description]

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟏𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲

⤥ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟗𝐤

⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔

⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝟑𝐱, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟!𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.

"Sunghoon's gonna kill me", Jay sighs and looks at his reflection in the mirror, his newly dyed dark hair complimenting his sharp features and with the biggest smile on your lips you finish up the side of his taper fade.

"What is he going to do? Hate me for convincing both you and Jaeyun to dye your hair back to black when this is the colour that suits you the best?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought of your least favorite human's reaction to his best friends' new hair colours.

For some reason today feels a lot less mentally challenging than the past few days.

Maybe it's because you spent hours away from your phone and with your favorite person, baking and gossiping over a glass of wine followed by doing her nails and just reminiscing about your time together in Highschool. Tsuki's presence never fails to ease your heart and calm your nerves, no matter how stressed or anxious you are, she always manages to distract you by just being herself.

It's the feeling of home and comfort she's never failed to give you, which you find yourself longing for the most when things get a little bit more difficult than usual.

Tsuki has never judged you, nor has she ever made you feel bad or invalidated in your feelings. Your thoughts and emotions, worries and doubts mean something to her and as she makes you feel cherished and loved, adored and appreciated in ways no man has ever managed to do romantically, you know she'll always be there when your heart needs it the most.

The past eighteen hours were filled with silly jokes, memories, genuine laughter and giggles, the exchange of thoughts and worries as well as absolute silence every now and then.

And as Tsuki started telling you about the few dates she's been on with Heeseung, something you've been suspecting for a while now yet never felt the need to point out because you knew she'd confide in you the moment she feels ready, you couldn't help but feel guilty about keeping so much to yourself, yet the fear of disappointing one of the few people who's always believed in and supported you no matter what is too captivating to even consider. So, with a soft sigh you just listened to her little rambles and giggled along with her when she got a little too excited about her newly found crush and possible soon-to-be-boyfriend.

For a moment you actually found yourself contemplating whether or not you should tell her, only for the heaviness on your chest to make the decision for you.

And as you watch the way she's mindlessly curling her hair, the new make up style you had tried on her, enhancing her beautiful features in the most perfect way possible and you can't believe just how beautiful your best friend is. Fukotomi Tsuki is the type of woman whose beauty and grace is a reflection of her genuinely kind and gentle soul, something she's never failed to inspire you with.

"Hey, Babe I don't mean to rush you but I really need to take a shower because I feel overstimulated so..how long is this going to take?" Jongseong's calm voice pulls you back into reality and with a soft sigh you meet his gaze in the mirror.

"Sorry, I got distracted", you say and reach for the little comb on your make up desk to brush through the thick strands of your best friends frehly cut hair, "all done, big guy."

"Fucking awesome", Jongie mumbles with a huge smile on his face as he gets closer to the mirror and then jumps up on his feet.

The second the young man leaves your apartment, you can't help but throw yourself onto your bed, a row of loud sighs falling past your lips as you crave the taste and effects of alcohol in your system.

"Alright, what's going on?"

The sudden question surpises you and with arched brows you turn your head to look at your best friend, who's just finished her hair and has now turned to face you.

With a soft sigh, you avert your gaze from Tsuki to shut your conscience up, only for your heart to take over and make the decision you've been putting off for as long as possible.

"I fucked Sunghoon", you blurt out and don't even dare to look at her, knowing exactly which specific combination of elotions is grazing her beautiful face as your words make their way into her understanding.

"You're lying", Tsuki chuckles and takes a huge sip from her glads of wine, her fresh set of nails nervously scratching her neck, a habit she's always had and the reason why reading her like an open book has always been so easy for you.

With a sigh of frustration you swallow your tears of anger and self disappointment before finally sitting up and looking at her.

And just as expected you're met with a mixture of disbelief, shock, surprise and genuine confusion.

"You are lying", she giggles again, yet her smile has slowly faded, eyes wide and filled with denial.

"I wish I was", you whisper and tilt your head nack to stop the tears from pricking at the corners of your eyes, since you definitely don't need your mascara to smudge only ten minutes before the beginning of the actual party.

"When?" At this point Tsuki has finally reached a stage of acceptance as she gets up from the little chair, makes her way across the room and right next to you on the bed.

The initial shock and disbelief has now faded and got replaced by genuine concern, something which reminds you just how easily she reads you, too.

"Exactly a month ago, on the night of Seung's birthday", you sigh and feel the knot in your throat coming back at full force, your denial and anger about this particular night finally catching up on you.

The past few weeks you've spent simply trying to forget something has ever happened between you and Sunghoon and no matter how many nights of pleasure you've spent with Fuma or anxious phone calls with Shotaro, this weird feeling of discomfort and shame has never left you.

You have no idea what exactly it is about the fact that you've been intimate with the one man you've hated for as long as you could remember, yet regardless of the reason your body, mind and soul have yet to accept it.

Deep down, in the darkest bits of your heart, you know it's because he hurt you. You know it's because he crushed your soul after you've shown yourself in such a vulnerable state. Subconsciously you're aware that all those nights you've spent crying with a tight chest and heavy heart weren't because of your break up, but because of the things Sunghoon had said to you.

But...you just don't understand why and how his words and actions, his behavior and demeanor have had such an intense imapct on your emotional state. It's not like you care about him in any way, so why has your mind not stopped replaying his exacg words from that night.

The fact he's been quite opena nd honest about wanting you again has definitely not helped your crushed soul and the fear of allowing yourself to get another taste just to satisfy that deep, disgusting hunger in the deepest parts of your mind has consumed you.

After so many conversations about what had happened between the to of you, with the only two people who actually know about it, you've come to the conclusion that maybe you want him to touch you again, but you have yet to figure out why exactly.

You spent the next five minutes catching Tsuki up on what exactly happened, how everything went down and for the first time in weeks, you actually voice out the things Sunghoon had said to you.

Every ounce of enthusiasm and excitement has long disappeared from your best friend's face and instead she's now filled with anger and wrath, disappointment and frustration.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about this earlier", you sigh and start fumbling with the rings on your fingers, your late mother's wedding band firmly placed around one of the digits as it brings you the comfort you've always found in her blurry memory.

"Don't be, babe", Tsuki is quick to reassure you, her voice hentle and calm, the complete opposite to all the dark emotions gleaming in her pretty eyes, "I'm proud of you for talking about it and grateful that you trust me enough to confide in me. I wish we could just ditch the party and have a girls' night."

You nod and reach for her delicate hand, the feeling of her skin underneath your fingertips easing your anxious nerves and with a soft sigh you lift your head to look at her again.

"How about we get drunk now and postpone that girls' night to tomorrow, hm? I really don't want the boys to find out and we both know they'd never let me hear the end of it if I didn't show up."

"Yeah, Seung's been texting me for an hour to hurry up because guests have arrived already", Tsuki replies and gets up, but not walking away before wrapping her arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, "just please promise me to talk about this in greater detail once you feel ready. This really worries me, baby. I can tell how much it's been effecting you and I can't lie, I knew it wasn't because of Jaemin's stupid ass and this new information changes the whole story."

All you can do is nod yet again, too mentally and physically exhausted to talk as you find comfort in her embrace before the two of you gather your things and finally make your way down the hallway into an apartment you've been skillfully avoiding for the past three months since you've moved.

You've never had a problem with sharing the same close friend circle as Sunghoon, but every now and then you catch yourself wishing they would have just dropped him years ago, knowing every bit of pain and hurt you've been feeling until now could have been avoided if he had only left your life.

You try your best to forget about his existence the way you’ve been doing up until the night of Heesueng’s birthday and every single day afterwards.

It’s not as easy as your brain makes it sound, especially when he’s the first person to meet your gaze as soon as you step foot into his shared apartment with yourbest friend and birthday boy Sim Jaeyun, but for the sake of everyone’s joy and happiness, you decide to just avert your gaze and ignore the burning in the deepest bits of your stomach.

And as you pass him without even granting him another look, Sunghoon finds himself absolutely captivated by your sight. Your outfits have always complimented your beautiful body, but this one felt like an actual death sentence.

The urge to just pull you into his bedroom and finally have his way with you again has slowly become absolutely unbearable and for the first time in his life, his hatred for you is dethroned by something else.

Hunger.

He’s already accepted his weird, twisted fate when it comes to his newfound feelings for you, but his pride and ego have been suffering from this epiphany and after weeks of internal fighting, Sunghoon’s gotten too tired, too exhausted to deny anything anymore.

However, different than he could have ever expected, his desire for you, your body and your touch have also brought along something he hasn’t felt in years: jealousy.

The sight of your university’s golden boy calmly wrapping his arms around your body and whispering something into your ear, even eliciting a genuine chuckle from you leaves the most disgusting feeling on his tongue and the longer he stares at the two of you, the deeper his hatred for you begins to run.

Every time Sunghoon is convinced he can’t physically, mentally and emotionally dislike you even further, you do something with someone right in front of his eyes and his blood starts boiling in ways he’s only ever associated with you.

“Why the fuck are you frowning again?” Jongseong voice makes it through the loud music and the cloud in his brain, finally pulling his attention away from you and Fuma and right back to reality.

“Nothing”, Sunghoon grunts and downs the rest of his cocktail, loving the way the liquid leaves a burning sensation in his throat and finally replaces the weird taste of jealousy coating the muscle of his tongue.

“Why is he in a bad mood again?” Sunoo suddenly appears next to Jongseong, his brows furrowed in confusion as a rosy tint covers the apple of his cheeks, indicating the amount of alcohol in his system.

Sunghonn can’t help but let out a chuckle at the sight of his friends and with a soft sigh, he just shrugs and throws his cup onto the table, knowing there’s really no point in letting these weird emotions get to him, no matter how good you look.

The following three hours are filled with loud music, laughter and a couple of drinking games, which basically ended up into a competition between the hockey and basketball team.

For some reason, you don’t feel agitated or annoyed, but are actually enjoying yourself, despite the fact that you’ve been in such close proximity with Park Sunghoon for so long.

As yourboys have seemed to make it their mission to keep you distracted and very well entertained, you can’t find much time to talk to Fuma or basically anyone else besides your friends, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s not like he’s your boyfriend and even if the two of you get along well and you’d actually consider him your friend, you’re not really into smalltalk and are quite keen on keeping whatever’s going on between the two of you as lowkey as possible, simply because you don’t want anyone to stick their nose into your business.

The last thing you need is to deal with stupid rumors and random people slutshaming you for being sexually active.

To your luck, Fuma’s been just as casual about the whole situation, something you’re more than just grateful for because no matter how understanding and chill your friends and brothers might be, you know exactly how quickly things can get awkward and after so much fun you’d rather not be the one to sour the mood.

As the night goes on, you notice the way Sunghoon slowly becomes less careful and secretive about his attention, which has remained solely on you for the past three hours. You’re physically unable to deny just how much it pushes your ego, yet every time you catch his gaze roaming your body and basically devouring you alive, you can’t help but hate yourself a little more for enjoying it.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s turned down every single girl who’s come up to him, shooting him soft glances and the sweetest smiles as Sunghoon’s eyes subconsciously found your each and every single time you came into his field of vision.

Neither one of you has said a single thing and whenever this particular realisation hits you, you remember the things he had whispered into your ear after making you fall apart on his tongue.

“If you told me it took nothing but a good tongue-fuck to keep that big mouth of yours shut I would have done this years ago.”

You hate your brain for replaying those exact words so many times, yet at this point you’re more than just ready to blame it on the alcohol in your blood, casually ignoring the fact that you’re barely tipsy, since you haven’t had the time to drink as much as your tolerance allowed you to.

However, the entirety of your friendgroup has made sure to take over the drinking part for you, as both sets of triplets have definitely gone way over their actual limits, but since there’s no way you could ever be the mean big sister at times like these, you have decided to just sit back and watch the most hilarious scenes unfold right in front of you.

By the time Sunoo had Jongseong have already passed out in each other’s arms, most of the guests have already left, leaving it to be Jaeyun’s closest people only and even though you would have loved to take Fuma up on his offer for a quick round at your place, you’re glad you’ve decided to say your farewell and focus on a good time with your favorite people.

“Are you sure, pretty girl?”, the tall captain smiles and wraps his big hand around your throat, his eyes quickly roaming your surroundings to make sure no one catches a glimpse of his lips finding yours and with a soft hum, you nod yet again.

“Can’t lie”, Fuma sighs and pulls you closer against his strong chest, “I would have loved to fuck you into oblivion tonight because fuck, do you look good.”

It doesn’t take much more than his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist for all the memories of a very specific person to find their way back into your head.

You hate how you have to push yourself to look into Fuma’s face at all times, because whenever your eyes fall shut, you catch yourself imaging the one person you promised yourself to never think of again and despite the annoyance and frustration, a wave of guilt usually follows those thoughts and before you can actually enjoy yourself, you’re back to zero.

“Hm, how about this”, you say and start caressing his exposed arms, knowing one of your boys could come around the corner at any given times, yet not sober enough to actually care for once, “I tug all these big guys into bed and make sure they’re taken care of safe and then head over to your place?”

Fuma’s plump lips stretch into a satisfied smile before he lands a gentle spank on the back of your naked thigh, “sounds perfect, angel girl. I’ll give you a call once I’m home and if you’re still up for it, I’ll order you an uber.”

After another rather sloppy kiss, you close the door and let out a soft sigh as the tension finally leaves your body and you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

You’ve never been with someone as attentive and caring as Fuma, despite the fact your relationship is solely physical, he’s made sure to always make you feel desired and taken care of, which is exactly why the guilt feels suffocating whenever you’re around him for too long.

It’s not like you want to think about Sunghoon as much as you do, especially not when you’re being intimate with someone so lovely and kind like Fuma, but your body has made it quite clear to you and no matter how hard you try to deny it, deep down you know there’s only one guy you think about when you’re pushing yourself over the edge.

And as you pass the living room to go to the bathroom in hopes of getting rid of some of the tension in your limbs, you’re instead met with a strong chest and before your brain can even process what’s going on, the familiar scent of Sunghoon’s cologne has long made his presence known.

With your brows furrowed in annoyance, you don’t even bother to lift your head and look up at him, definitely not in the mood to let him ruin the rest of your night when the party went as smoothly as it did, despite his presence.

However, Sunghoon has absolutely no intention of letting you go anywhere anytime soon.

He has absolutely no fucking clue, why he decided to cut your way off or why he forced himself to watch that fucking bastard of a captain touch and kiss what he’s been craving for so long, but after being in denial for as long as he has, Hoon’s come to the conclusion that you’ve driven him into complete insanity.

There’s no logical explanation for his behavior, not even for his train of thoughts or any of the decisions he’s made these past four weeks, so why would there be a point in denying anything anymore?

He wants whatever you’re willing to give him, no matter how desperate he looks in your eyes. Sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck about what you think or feel, so why would he care about your opinion on him? So, what if you think he’s pathetic for wanting to sleep with you again? He’s never been ashamed for wanting what and who he wants and he won’t start just because it’s you, of all people, whom he wants.

“What the fuck do you want?” Just as usual you’re not hesitant to spit your venom, but after so many years, Sunghoon has become immune. Nothing you say fazes him, no matter how hard you try and how badly you want to hurt him, he took that ability away from you the day you had made your decision to betray and humiliate him. He’d never give you the chance to break his soul again, not when you’re the reason he has never allowed anyone close to his heat again.

“It’s so amusing to me how much you’re trying to make things work with that captain”, Sunghoon says and runs a hand through his light hair, his dark eyes never once shifting away from your face, “especially when we both know he won’t ever give you exactly what you need.”

“Oh, and you will? Stop wasting my fucking time, you cunt”, you scoff and roll your eyes, a sight Sunghoon’s been daydreaming about for way too long and with all of your friends completely passed out, he’s determined to grab the chance by its tail and make the best of it.

Neither one of you acknowledges it, not caring enough to give it any thought or weight, yet regardless of the deep hatred you feel, you do know each other good enough and that’s why Sunghoon is more than just sure how aware you are of the realness behind his words.

“Alright”, he suddenly says, thick brows furrowed as he wraps his big hand around your arm and pushes you through the doorstep and right into the center of his own room, leaving you completely shocked, yet not an ounce of fear or panic has entered your body.

Maybe it’s because subconsciously you know he’d never physically hurt you. Not because he somehow cares about you, but because Park Sunghoon would never get physical with someone who doesn’t have the power to fight back.

“You have no reason to lie to me, so be fucking honest”, he presses through gritted teeth, the sight of his anger stricken features sending jolts of arousal through body in just the way you’ve been craving it.

“I don’t owe you shit”, you throw right into his face, ready to storm out again just because you’re not as sure and confident about your own residence anymore as you were just a few minutes ago, “you’re batshit crazy, if you really think I’m gonna let you fuck me again.”

Sunghoon can’t help but smile sheepishly in response to your meek attempt to defeat your own desires. Everything about your behavior and body language gives away just how much you want him, it doesn’t matter if your words claim the opposite.

The way your chest is rapidly rising and falling, your balled fists, the fact you’ve been pressing your thighs together ever since you bumped into his chest and most importantly: your eyes.

A few weeks ago, Hoon would have knocked himself out for ever thinking thoughts like these, but since he’s gotten his first taste of you, he’s realised just how expressive your eyes are. However, he intentionally chooses to ignore the fact this particular realisation had him right in the guts when he watched the pain fill your eyes.

He knows to other people you have a so called “resting bitch face” but everyone who’s ever spend more than a day around you knows just how much of the talking your eyes do for you.

And just as usual, Sunghoon doesn’t need you to say anything because the longing and desire gleaming in the gentle colour surrounding your eyes is what gives him the answers he’s been waiting for all this time.

“Just this once”, Sunghoon sighs and runs both of his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots as he feels the frustration bubbling up in his throat in response to your stubbornness.

“Be fucking honest with me just this once”, you didn’t even realise just how close he’s gotten to you, his body mere inches away from you and before you can actually process it, your back hits the wall, leaving you no choice but to look at him, “has he made you cum? I need to know this, Y/N.”

The sound of your name falling from his lips feels foreign and unfamiliar. You can’t actually remember the last time you had heard him say it, even when talking to mutual friends or coworkers had he refused to take it into his mouth.

And even if you can’t make sense of it, you know that’s the exact reason for your body’s response to his question in form of a simple shake of your head.

“I fucking knew it”, he hisses and plants his hands on both sides of your face as he throws his head back with a loud groan, “I fucking knew I wasn’t the only one going through this fucking hell.”

The cloud of arousal fogging up the rational parts of your brain as well as the sweet scent of his cologne make it quite difficult for you to focus, yet the second you manage to process what he had said, your lips part in shock.

“What – does that mean?”

Sunghoon pulls away from you with a loud scoff and before he gets the chance to turn away, you reach for his face and force him to look into your eyes.

There’s no way you’re going to give him the privilege of looking away again, not when you had promised yourself to never, ever get to this point again. This is the least you owe yourself. Not him or anyone else, but your crushed soul.

“What the fuck does that mean, Sunghoon?”, this time you’re the one to use his name, something you’ve always hated doing, yet subconsciously hoping it’ll have the same effect on him as it had on you.

“Do you really think I want to want you this badly? Do you really fucking think I’m being lie this because I want a quick fuck?”, his voice is cold and distant, something you’re used to and weirdly makes you feel at ease as the arousal has slowly taken over the last bits of your body.

“No matter what I watched, no matter who I fucked or how hard I’ve tried to forget about how good ou felt, I just couldn’t. Not if I wasn’t thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you absolutely speechless.

Despite the wide range in your vocabulary of two languages, you find yourself struggling to come with one to use in response to what he had just admitted and for the first time in exactly a month you don’t actually feel bad for wanting him the way you do.

“Every time the boys talked about you and that fucking captain I almost lost my mind because how the fuck did you just go and let some random wannabe touch you, when I’m right fucking here”, Sunghoon grunts and pushes his body back against yours, the feeling of your soft tits against his strong chest overwhelmingly arousing to the point of it being genuinely embarrassing, but again – he’s lost his mind and he knows it.

“Do you need me to remind you which one of us wanted to act like this never happened, you fucking coward?”, you spit back once the anger mixes into your arousal,your grip around his face tightening, only for Sunghoon to groan in response to the physical pain of your nails digging into his soft skin.

“I fucking know”, he sighs and subconsciously starts humping your bare thigh, the feeling of his hard cock against your skin sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know or even imagine that you, of all people on this god damn earth, would do this to my body?”

“S-Sunghoon”, you whisper as he buries his face in your neck, his big hands finding home on the back of your thighs before he pulls your legs apart to give himself access to your clothed cunt.

You coudn’t have held back the guttural moan following the feeling of his bulge pressing against your sensitive clit even if you had tried to, the arousal too consuming to suppress.

It doesn’t take much for Sunghoon to lose himself in the sweet feeling of your warm pussy firmly pressed against his clothed cock, he’s been thinking and daydreaming about you for too long and although he had accepted his current mental state, he has now decided to blame it on the little bit of alcohol rushing through his veins alongside the dizzying arousal.

“Come on, snowflake”, he grunts and pulls the skins of your neck in between his lips, making sure to leave a huge mark as thoughts of that fucker touching what so obviously was destined for him and him only, “stop denying it. You want me as much as I want you.”

Waves of pleasure and anger, frustration and despair wash over you in a way you’ve never experienced before, but just as usual there’s one particular feeling taking over when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

“I fucking hate you”, you spit and push your hand into his hair, forcefully pulling his face away from your neck, only to be met with the sight of Sunghoon’s hooded, hunger filled gaze.

“Don’t worry”, he suddenly grunts and moves his hand in between your bodies to fumble with the buckle of his belt, “I’m not doing this because I’m so fucking fond of you all of a sudden but fuck, I need to fuck you.”

You let out a soft whimper when his knuckles hit your sensitive clit and with a frustrated sigh you throw your head back because it’s in this particular moment you realise you’re going to let him fuck you again – because you genuinely want him to.

“There we go”, Sunghoon chuckles and wraps his big, ring clad hand around your throat to tilt your head forward and rub his thumb over your bottom lip, “there’s no point in fighting what your body needs, Baby. This isn’t as deep as we’re making it to be. I want to fuck you and you want to fuck me, that’s it. There’s nothing else to this, right, snowflake?”

The use of that stupid nickname sends jolts of anger right in between your legs and without giving it another thought, you part your lips and bite down on the tip of his thumb, only for Sunghoon to pull away with a loud hiss – and a chuckle.

“Bark and bite? What’s wrong, snowflake? Still so mad about that stupid nickname? Silly, silly little ice queen”, he whispers right against your lips, the feeling of his hot breath hitting your heated skin in combination with his hand around your throat leaves you lighthearted, you can’t even get yourself to respond.

“Look at you”, he muses and reaches for the back of your little top, quickly pulling the zipper down and pushing it down to expose your chest to his hungry eyes, “f-fuck, they’re pierced?”

“Who’s the silly one now, you fucking bastard”, you spit and pull your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back your moans as the feeling of his wet tongue circling your sensitive nipple pushes you even deeper into the haze of your pleasure.

At this point you’ve made a mess of your precious lace panties, the ones you had put on with Fuma on your mind, yet can’t actually get yourself to care.

“Mhm”, Sughoon hums and wraps his plump lips around the little nub, his tongue flicking over the tip and reminding you of how that particular motion had managed to make you cum all over his face in actual record time, something you’d never actually mention around him.

“So responsive”, he chuckles, “you’re about to choke on that little ‘I hate you’, snowflake. How does it feel?”

“Shut the fuck up”, you press through gritted teeth, only for your body to betray you as your fingers wrap themselves around his wrist to push his hand down your chest in hopes of him getting what you’re asking for.

“Keep going”, Sunghoon replies casually and pulls away to get rid of the stupid piece of fabric you really dared to call an outfit, leaving you in nothing but your drenched panties.

Usually you’d feel too exposed, too out in the open, insecure and even self conscious, but as you watch the way Sunghoon shamelessly devours you with his eyes only, you can’t stop your ego from actually reaching the moon.

“I like hearing how much you hate me because this sweet little pussy surely doesn’t feel the same”, he whispers into your ear as he pushes his hand into your panties, not even hesitating to push one of his long fingers into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, just as tight and warm as I remember”, his voice suddenly breaks at the of his sentence when you clench around the single digit, making the usually so cocky coach choke on his words.

“Yeah, don’t smile like that, snowflake, you’ve got me good. I won’t deny it anymore”, Sunghoon sounds just as arrogant as usual, but the way he looks at you with so much desire and want shimmering in the usually so cold brown of his eyes doesn’t match the tone of his voice.

All of a sudden you realise just how long you’ve been looking at him and before anything but pleasure can take over your foggy brain, you decide to reach in between your bodies and stroke his cock through the thin layer of his boxer briefs.

“Oh, fuck”, Sunghoon suddenly moans and quickly buries his face in your chest, knowing he won’t be bale to hold himself back any longer, but too proud to show even more of his hunger for you and your touch.

He wants you to know how much he craves your body because it’s the only way for him to get what he wants, but his pride would never allow him to let you see too much.

“Do you have condoms? Please, tell me you do”, you swallow your moans and try to focus on the way he’s gently humping his finger into your tight hole, the need to finally feel full and actually cum without having to imagine anything overwhelming your senses.

“I wanna eat your pussy first”, Sunghoon blurts out and looks at you with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the sight so delicious, you hate him for it.

“Yeah?” You reply and push your lips into a faux pout, nodding along when he confirms your question, only for you to let out a high pitched chuckle.

“You’re so desperate, pretty face, what happened to that cocky attitude? Is that all it takes? Good pussy shuts you the fuck up, is that the truth?”

It takes Sunghoon a whole minute to realise that you’re mocking him and as soon as he does, he snaps back to reality and rolls his eyes, still not caring enough.

“Answer me”, you demand and tighten your grip around his cock,your other hand pulling his out of your panties, “cat got your tongue, pretty face? What’s wrong?”

Your new nickname for him sends his brain into overdrive, and as if the sound of your sweet voice drenched in mockery wasn’t enough, you force Sunghoon to look right into your eyes.

“Yes, fuck”, he grunts and shamelessly thrusts his cock into your fist, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he quickly pushes his fingers into his mouth, lapping up every drop of your sweet cunt like a starved man.

“There we go”, you imitate his reaction with a devilish grin on your face, “but not tonight, pretty face. I need you to be good and fuck me before someone notices that we’ve been gone.”

“Fucking b–”, however, you’re quick to cut him off, knowing you won’t let him disrespect you, no matter how badly you want him.

“Nuh uh”, you say and grab his face again, “stop fucking with my patience and do what you’ve been begging for.”

Sunghoon is too close to even think about talking back and he hates you, the universe, fate and whatever is responsible for his body’s reactions to your touch for putting him into this situation.

“Fine. Turn around.”

As you start shaking your head in response to his demand, Sunghoon can’t help but furrow his brows in confusion.

“Man the fuck up and look at me when you fuck me”, you hiss and push your panties down your thighs, a pain you’ve found comfort in suddenly filling your chest, pulling you away from the pleasure you’ve been deprived from for way too long.

Why does your brain have to work this way? Why can’t you just enjoy the pleasure? Why does this always have to be some kind of mental and emotional torture?

“Won’t have to tell me twice, snowflake”, Sunghoon simply replies and pull away from your body before he gets rid of his dark jeans and boxer briefs, finally revealing the cock you’ve been daydreaming in denial for so long, “get on the bed, spread those legs for me. I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of your little pussy.”

His words, yet again, leave you completely stunned but your body reacts way quicker than your mind as you find yourself approaching his bed and doing as you’re told without a verbal response.

For some reason the following few minutes are filled with nothing, not a single word, but heavy breathing and the suffocating tension of your pleasure and arousal lingering in the air.

You attentively watch the way Sunghoon rips open the condom wrapper before he gives himself a few good strokes and then rolls it over his annoyingly pretty cock.

Not nice in your life have you used the word ‘pretty’ to describe male genitalia but there’s no point in denying just how well it fits when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

It’s thick and long, slightly curved at the tip, veiny just like his arms and just a few shades darker than the rest of his body, the tip thick and dripping in precum. There’s absolutely no point in him having such a beautiful face and cock, absolutely none.

“I’ll send you a picture when you’re home, that’ll last longer”, Sunghoon deadpans and if it wasn’t or the actual pain you’re currently in from how much your cunt’s been clenching around nothing, you would have given him a piece of your mind.

But Sunghoon doesn’t seem to care about your lack of a sassy response as he pushes yur legs further apart and reveals your dripping cunt to his needy eyes. He wants to curse you out for taking away getting another taste but he knows this won’t be the last time, so without giving himself enough time to get more frustrated, he simply starts rubbing the length of his wrapped cock over your slick folds.

“Oh, fuck”, a row of deep moans falls past his lips and before he can realise what his body is doing he catches himself burying his face in your neck for the nth time already, “I’m going to cover your mouth, so tap my arm if you can’t breathe. We don’t want anyone to hear how good I’m fucking this sweet pussy, right, snowflake?”

“Cocky bastard”, is the only thing you say as you nod and quickly choke on one of your high pitched moans when Sunghoon suddenly pushes the tip of his cock into your tight cunt.

“Oh, my fucking God”, you breathe, your nails digging into his broad back as your eyes roll into the back of your head, “more, please. I need more.”

“Give me a fucking minute”, Sunghoon groans, his eyes firmly shut in hopes of stopping himself from cumming too fast because of how good you look with only his tip inside of you, “f-fuck, snowflake…”

For the first time in what feels like ever, the nickname isn’t drenched in derogatory or mockery, it’s nothing but raw pleasure and you can’t deny how good it actually sounds, especially coming from Sunghoon whose voice has dropped a whole octave within just a few seconds.

You find mental satisfaction in the fact that this is effecting him just as much as you.

“Tell me if it’s too much”, he whispers against your lips, his nose nudging yours and for a moment you actually reciprocate his motion, only to turn your head to the side once you realise.

To your luck, Sunghoon doesn’t give it too much thought and once you node, he slowly starts pushing the entirety of his length into your sensitive cunt. The stretch leaves you lightheaded, your moans and whimpers muffled by his hand, leaving his own noises to be the only thing to fill the silence of his room.

It doesn’t take much for him to bottom out, the wetness of your cunt enough lubrication to have you focus on the sweet feeling of being filled just how you’ve been craving it.

Sunghoon gives you a few moments to adjust to his impressive size, his head thrown back as he avoids your gaze because he knows he’s going to cum on the spot if he looks into your stupidly expressive eyes for too long.

To say that your former ice skating partner knows exactly how to use his cock would be an understatement. Park Sunghoon definitely has a reason to be as confident about his skills as he is because that God damn fucker really knows how to fuck.

His thrusts are deep and firm, not too fast or too hard for it to hurt, yet still precise enough to hit just the right spots and with every single movement of his hips, you feel the tip of his cock graze the entrance to your womb in a way you’ve only ever experienced with him.

Moans, profanities, high pitched whimpers, the sound of skin meeting skin and the wetness of your cunt meet in the heavy air of the room, each noise pushing the both of you deeper into a sweet cloud of pleasure and you can’t believe how easy it is for your body to respond to his touches.

“F-fuck”, he suddenly grunts and pushes his hand in between your bodies his thumb easily finding your clit and applying just the right amount of pleasure, “I can feel how close you are. Come on now, Baby, show me how much you hate me. Cum all over my cock like the needy little slut you are.”

Maybe it’s the tiniest bits of gentleness wavering in his usually so cold voice, yet you feel yourself getting closer with each and every word falling past his bit swollen lips.

“I can’t hold back any longer, snowflake”, Sunghoon warns and picks up the pace of his thrusts as well as his thumb on your clit, drawing firm circles into the hardened nub and pushing you closer and closer to your sweet relief.

And as the first wave of your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you let out row of loud moans of his name, only for Sunghoon to suddenly pull his hand away and push his lips against yours, passionately swallowing every single one of your noises.

The moment his tongue grazes over yours, the coil in your lower stomach finally snaps, setting your whole body on fire as you start drowning in the sweet taste of your enemy and the feeling of actual relief.

It doesn’t take Sunghoon much to follow you, his deep grunts sending vibrations right down your throat as he cums inside the condom in three thick spurts.

Just like last time there’s nothing but heavy breathing filling the silence but unlike then, you actually don’t feel disgusting or used.

Neither one of you even gets the chance to overthink the kiss or anything you’ve just said as a sudden noise from the other side of the door leaves you both in shock.

“Fuck”, you whisper and take a deep breath, only for Sunghoon to stop you.

“It’s okay”, he says way too calm and somehow sounding confused, “I’ll take care of them. Let me get you a towel and you can use my bathroom if you need to. DOes anything hurt?”

For the nth time tonight, you’re shocked by his words.

You never expected him to provide you with any sort of empathy or care, not after he had managed to shatter your soul with his coldness the last time.

“Thanks”, you whisper and hate how yet again, tears start pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Take your time. They’re all wasted, even Tsuki. I’ll make sure to tug the triplets to bed and send both Jay and Seung home. Should I let Tsuki sleep over?”

Sunghoon doesn’t look at you as he pulls his now soft cock out of your sensitive cunt, the sight so pretty, he can’t help but wish to imprint it into his memories forever.

What the fuck is he thinking?

Yeah, he’s definitely lost his mind.

“I’ll take care of her, thanks”, you reply calmly and sit up, only to watch Sunghoon walk over to the other side of his room and carefully collect your clothes from the floor.

“Don’t read anything into this but you’re heading home anyway and nobody gives a fuck so just – wear one of my shirts”, he says and pulls one of his black shirts out of a random drawer, carefully handing it all to you before he puts on a pair of sweats, yet doesn’t bother with a shirt himself.

And as you watch Sunghoon run a hand through his hair and wipe away the remains of your lipstick on his lips, you can’t help but wonder if what you’ve just done really is as bad as your brain makes it to be or if maybe this might become way more beneficial to you than you could have ever expected.

Either way, you know this wasn’t the last time and no matter how badly you want to hate the actual act of it, you simply can’t.

And that’s okay.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and there she is! thank you guys so so so much for all tve love, patience and support. i truly appreciate you all and genuinely hope you enjoyed this one. it’s not as kinky as the first time but hey they kissed!!! and hoonie was a decent human for once lets goo!! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated babies!)

TAGLIST: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @jongszn @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @ariadores @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @l0vee-l3tters @luvkpopp

[apomaro-mellow]

Hospitals still weren't Eddie most favorite place to be, even though they had technically saved his life once. He didn't give doctors the credit though. No, he reserved that praise for his husband who had literally carried him through hell, holding his guts together.

But alas, he was still only human. And thus prone to human ailments. Which was why he was currently in a hospital bed, preparing for a tonsillectomy.

"Steve, my love, my muse", Eddie took his hand and kissed it. "Should I not return from this-"

"Oh shut up. It's a routine operation." Steve could tell he was being dramatic to cover up the fact that he was actually scared. "You'll be fine. In fact, I'm going down to the cafeteria right now. You're not getting just any ice cream. I'm gonna bring you back a whole sundae."

Steve looked to the rest of the band, who had come for moral support. "Watch him please. And don't let him fall to hysterics." He left out, really hoping he wouldn't come back to an Eddie in tears.

"Sooo", Grant started. "If you don't make it, who gets your house?"

Eddie's brow furrowed. "Uh, my husband, duh?"

"Okay, who gets your husband?", Gareth asked.

Eddie saw the cavalry arrive in the form of Steve's true soulmate. "Robiiiiin", he whined. "You have to protect Steve from these vultures", he hissed the last word.

"We're just trying to hash out who has dibs on Eddie's hot husband", Jeff said.

Robin pointed to herself. "I made it clear to Eddie when he proposed that should the marriage end, either naturally or by divorce, custody of Steve would revert back to me."

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for Bucks, but as long as you keep Steve out of another man's clutches, I won't haunt you from the grave."

"Actually, I plan on setting him up with the first wealthy guy he meets", Robin said. "Thanks to your fame, I've become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And also, Steve doesn't know how to be single."

The other CC boys nodded sagely.

"All the more reason one of us should get him. We can take care of him", Grant said.

"I can't believe this. This is a goddamn coup!", Eddie shouted.

Steve returned, none the wiser to their conversation. "You won't believe this. The cafeteria has chocolate syrup AND nuts? Isn't that wild? You're gonna have the best sundae of your life, babe."

He took his seat right next to Eddie's bedside and kissed his forehead.

"Angel, we're surrounded by snakes and thieves", Eddie said deliriously.

"What are you talking about?", Steve asked.

Having only Eddie in his line of sight, he couldn't see the others behind him. So he didn't see Jeff making kissy faces, Gareth making a circle with his hand and sticking a finger through it repeatedly, or Grant making a V with his fingers and flapping his tongue between them.

"Those traitorous lechers covet what is mine. And not even Robin seeks to protect your virtue!", Eddie said, desperately reaching out for Steve.

Steve kept his voice even and calm, trying to soothe his husband from whatever delusion he was having when the doctor came in. This guy looked like he played a doctor on tv. Chiseled jaw with perfectly manicured facial hair.

"Good evening", he greeted.

"Hi", Steve said, voice a little breathy.

"Oh he's perfect", Robin said, reading her friend perfectly.

"I'm Dr. Morip, I'll be performing your operation today."

"Morip?", Eddie tilted his head.

"Yes, as in 'more ripped than you'." Then he flexed and busted out of his scrubs and swept Steve off his feet, ignoring the cries of the invalid on the bed.

Eddie was tossing and turning even as Steve shook his shoulders to wake him up.

"You were having a nightmare", Steve spoke softly in the dim lamp light of the hospital room. "Was it 86 again?"

"Steve!", Eddie clung to him as best as he could. "You didn't leave me for Dr. Morip!"

"Dr. Morip? Eddie, her name is Dr. Hudson. And she's married and in her sixties."

Everything caught up with Eddie as his brain became more lucid. He'd already had the operation. That had all been a dream. The tension released instantly as he realized he wasn't about to die on the table and Steve would be scooped up by opportunistic friends.

"You're mine, you know that?"

"Really? Is that why I'm hand-feeding you ice cream?", Steve teased, holding up a spoonful to Eddie's lips.

"I love you", Eddie said, voice muffled from the food and a little watery too.

"I know, you dope. Love you too."

[kainagant]

i think people gloss over lady nagant's hurt and actual emotions too often and just skip straight to "she wanted to be a hero, she was just disillusioned". like yes, that's her core feeling, that at the end of the day she was good and virtuous. but there was also heaps of guilt and resentment and disillusionment piled on top of that. saying "oh but she's a good person at heart" invalidates all of her hurt. this was never about whether she was truly good or evil, it was always, at its core, that she had reached a breaking point, and she was done being a martyr for the perfect, idealized hero society that everyone took for granted.

i'm not trying to say "therefore she was actually bad", i just think that a major part of what makes lady nagant interesting is the conflict between the altruism at her core and the desire for her own self-respect which was at war with her role as a hero.

at the end of the day, she shot the president because her personal feeling was that she didn't want to kill anymore. and i don't think that, at the time, she was thinking about the general corruption of society and how that was linked to the hits she carried out. like yes, obviously, having government sanctioned black ops assassins is a bad thing, so therefore, putting a stop to it would be "for the greater good" "to achieve a less corrupt society". but in that moment, she was not killing "for the greater good of society". that single bullet was different from every other bullet she's shot, because it wasn't shot with the belief that it was for the greater good, but she shot the president for her own sake alone.

in an ironic twist, you could say that the shot she fired in a moment of "selfishness" was "good", whereas the shots she fired out of her sense of heroism were "evil", and that's a far more fascinating aspect of lady nagant to think about, rather than just boiling her down to "she's good and altruistic at heart and she saw the corruption of hero society and got fed up with it". this is a true statement but also an oversimplification of her backstory.