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#more like in a 'the things about desire is that it's stronger when it's not totally satisfied' way
rosemaze-reveries · 2 days
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I would like to ask for a idv male hunters(of your choosing) reacting to a female reader where she suddenly goes "omg your tits are bigger than mine.."
maybe it was their first meeting, maybe she was bored when she got chaired, whatever the case I just thought it'd be funny.
SJKASKJA thank you for the laugh, i opened this ask like WHAT!!!! but i will indulge u anon... <3
⚠️ suggestive content (strip tease, clothed fondling & flirty banter).
⚠️ reader uses she/her.
🐦‍⬛📸🦎⚡🌪️🦌
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🐦‍⬛ Nightmare doesn't immediately respond. He sends a sideways glance to you, who's bound and bored at a slow-ticking rocket chair. "I guess you'd be hard-pressed to find any bigger than those. Must be nice to brag about," you rattle on. If you're trying to seduce your way to freedom, you're failing miserably. Nightmare stalks over to your chair, his broad chest casting a shadow over you.
"Would you have that same attitude once you've been smothered beneath them? Keep mouthing off, and I might just test it."
...What? Was that supposed to be a threat? Anyway, it didn't achieve the desired effect. You blink up at him, not totally opposed to the idea.
📸 Joseph's gaze flicks to your chest. He blinks away a milisecond later, but not quickly enough to escape your notice. A cheeky grin appears on your face as if to say made you look. "I disagree," he tuts. "Remind me, which one of us is so inept with her brassieres that she needs me to unclasp them for her every night, and – despite loathing them so – dutifully puts them on again the next day, as if her poor, aching back demands it of her?" Knowing you can't say anything, he sends back a winning smile of his own.
🦎 Luchino readily cocks his attention to you. "Oh? Like what you see?" You just never noticed how visibly his chest protrudes, especially from a side view. But your comment attracts him closer to your chair, and he decides to give you a little show. Slowly, too slowly, he slips off his jacket, letting it crumple to the floor.
"Oh," escapes your lips once you realize what's going on. Next goes the first button of his shirt.
⚡ Alva sets down his pen when you drag your nails down his chest. What began as an innocuous shoulder massage quickly turned into marveling at the broadness of his pecs. He's sure you meant well, but that comment draws a sharp sigh out of him. "I'm glad to know I'm entertaining you..." he murmurs. That snaps you back to reality: you wanted to be serving him today. You kiss his shoulder blade as an apology, kneading his tense muscles until he lets out another hitched breath.
🌪️ Ithaqua takes your comment as an invitation to reach forward, cupping an icy hand over one of your breasts. It happens so fast you can barely register it. Then he decides: "They're not too bad." He has never been one for delicacy, but that was so blunt it startles you into a fit of giggles. Sometimes you forget he's inexperienced with this sort of thing.
🦌 Bane looks down at the pout you're sending him. This is the first time he's let you hug him, and you're just realizing how much you have to strain your neck to avoid being suffocated by his chest. "A bigger body just means a stronger shield. Nothing more to it than that," he says dryly. You roll your eyes. He's always so hardheaded.
"You're more like a pillow to me," you try. "I wish I had some of these."
He still doesn't give you the reaction you're fishing for. He silently clutches your waist and tips back onto his bed, so that you're properly laying on top of him -- like a pillow.
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temis-de-leon · 15 hours
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Day 13 - Deflected kiss
Characters: Beelzebub x gn!MC
25 kisses challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
CW: darker than usual with a little gore at the beggining, possessive and kinda ooc Beel, pre-established relationship
A/N: I don't like this one, I don't think it's good. Sorry :(
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They were apex predators, stronger than everyone but the one above them and built to sustain any sort of pain. They would bleed and sweat and poke inside open wounds, horns caked in gore and fingers drenched in someone’s guts, no sense of guilt to stop them. It would smell like iron and something rotten, a combination of raw flesh and body fluids that begged for more.
As the Avatar of Gluttony, his anatomy was just a tad different from other demons. Sharper senses to find pray, stronger bite force, faster reflexes. Everything that could put him in advantage to eat first.
It used to be fun back then, morbidly exciting, but things changed over the passage of time, when the Demon King fell in deep sleep and Lord Diavolo stepped up to the plate, bringing revolutionary ideas with peace on his mind.
Long gone were the days when humans believed in their existence without questions and, even though the fear of the unknown stayed constant throughout history, hunting simply became… boring.  
So Beel, under Lucifer’s iron fist, forced himself to learn how to control certain urges. He missed the taste of human flesh as much as other demons did, but replacing it for other types of food was surprisingly easy.
Fortunately, his acute sense of smell stayed the same, as well as his vision. They didn’t help him much, given that food announced itself with gigantic neon signs, but they were still there; still in use.
Beel didn’t want MC to know how much he started to relay on his senses again since they met. In the span of a few months, he’d already learnt their exact scent and his mind had taught itself to find them even in the biggest crowd.
It wasn’t something he frequently contemplated, anyways, but when he commented it to Asmo as a passing thought and his brother joked about him returning to his roots, he was forced to reconsider at least a little. While going back to his acquired dark nature was tempting, Beel found himself happy to be just the way he was. Keeping MC so close to him in one way or the other was only how he took care of them as part of the family.
Being able to distinguish their soul’s aroma out of everyone else’s wasn’t weird and neither was immediately seeing them sitting with his brothers on the bleachers during one of his games. He loved the feeling of love and knowing his entire family was there to cheer him on fuelled his heart with extraordinary force. MC’s scent was just the most peculiar out of all of them and the easier to pinpoint.
There was nothing more than that. Even when his first thought after making his team win was to retrieve them and take them to a private place so he could make his own scent a part of theirs, there was nothing to it.
Not when MC intercepted him at the locker room entry to personally congratulate him and not when he pulled them closer by their waist, making them smile with slight embarrassment.
However, when he bent down, they turned their face.
“I want to kiss you too, Beel, I swear!” they’d promised with reassurance “But you’re stinking of sweat right now and I had a shower just before coming here!”
Beel quickly ignored his disappointment, but he couldn’t avoid showing it for the first couple of seconds. Still, he left to clean himself, because he’d be damned if the thing keeping him apart from his crush was sweat.
On his way to the showers he successfully ignored the desire of turning back and consume them whole.
Not with his teeth, but with something else.
Asmo’s words resonated on his head while he scrubbed the dirt and the results of his efforts away from his skin.
He didn’t know when he stopped his actions or when he started to sniff the room, searching for something.
Someone.
MC.
They were still waiting for him.
.
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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @beatlebeesstuff   @mehkers
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i-smoke-chapstick · 22 hours
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'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART TWELVE]
-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-
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⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; A night by the fire brings out desires.
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Ah, the burn is quenched. She fell first, he fell harder. Oh boy, he fell harder. Soft Jervis. This is still just the begginning. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Reader is still struggling with revenge and feelings. Reader doesn't give a fuck anymore. Reader and Jervis are still in their friends to lovers era. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.
⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom @sweetlimeharvest @frenchfryqueen69
⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - 'PART FIVE, - 'PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN' - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, - 'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE,
♫ “baby, I'm star-struck by you / didn't know we'd get so far, and it's only the start.” Scary Love by The Neighbourhood
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You're still reeling from the minor success with Selina. You can't stop thinking about the way she zoned out- just from your words. It looked as though her consciousness melted before your eyes, if only for a moment. Mr. Tetch, Jervis, was right. There is something intimate about hypnotism. It's like they become an extension of you and your own desires. Whoever they are, they become your puppet. It's exhilarating.
You similarly can't stop thinking about the feeling of Jervis's hands on your waist. The way he whispered those damn words of affirmation, like you were his number one priority. You still have no clue if you can trust him. But that doesn't seem to bother you anymore. He was the stranger in your dreams, the man haunting your psyche. You felt more connected to him then anyone you had been connected to in years. It sends a shiver down your spine.
You'd been staying with him for a little over two weeks now. Time goes by fast, apparently. Every mornings the same, it's become routine. He cooks breakfast, lets you sleep in. You get dressed. Eat together. You two talk about anything and everything over tea and biscuits, mostly about books and chess and crosswords and revenge. He simply makes you smile. You watch him struggle to use a smartphone and he watches you struggle to hypnotize passersby's.
You've begun to notice the pull to him has been growing stronger and stronger. The nature of your relationship with the man is questionable, at best. You don't know exactly what you two are. But you do know you are his only friend. You don't mind that.
You've also started to notice, Jervis has his own way of displaying...affection. You're not quite sure if that's the right word, but it works. He offers his numerous praises very vocally, or in small pats to your head. When he's having too much fun with you, he refuses to cook, or do anything to separate himself from you for even a minute. He hypnotizes the neighboring mansions household to go out for groceries, dinner, or even small trinkets that remind him of you.
You're unsure if it makes you uncomfortable or extremely flattered. After all, he could kill you at anytime if he truly wished. But you decide on flattered, after he buys you numerous dresses and flowers and your favorite issue of the Gotham Gazette. You don't mind whatever it is the two of you have. Forced proximity seems to change people.
He's your teacher in all aspects. Hypnotism, dancing, cooking, cleaning. Sometimes he'll come up behind you, and you can feel his heat behind you. It makes your breath catch in your throat. He'll position you, arms on your side, clicking his tongue at your posture or your form. What an interesting man.
It's turned oddly domestic. And you can tell...he enjoys it. It's like a dream for him. There's something about the way that his smile reaches his eyes, it makes it hard to resist him. He admires you.
On a different note, you keep seeing Selina each night. You give her the minor scoop on what's happening. She thinks you're trying to learn hypnotism to hypnotize Mr. Tetch. She doesn't need to know exactly what's going on. You're a good liar. You got that from your mothers side. She also doesn't know you try to hypnotize her every night she comes over. She tells you everyone thinks you're either dead or as good as.
Oh well, you think. It's happening. You're getting close. You can almost taste revenge on your tongue. You can't stop the play-by-play of imagining your fathers face for the first time after this. You wonder if it would be hatred, or disappointment. Good. He chose Lee Thompkins over you. He knew. His own daughter. His blood.
You stare into a fireplace. You watch the flames lick up the side of the walls, dancing to a peaceful rhythm. It reminds you of your heartbeat, the steady crackling inviting your eyes to look. It's beautiful. It's calm. It's a welcomed warmth.
You hear footsteps behind you, and don't turn to see who it is. The sound of two china teacups clanking together on their plates, Jervis comes to rest beside you on the couch, offering you a cup. You take it gently. He sits cross legged beside you, unwinding from the day.
You remember what he said on the balcony all those days ago. Nights in Gotham are mesmerizing. The man next to you, he's turned your life upside down. And now...you two are...what? Partners? Associates? Friends?
You feel his gaze burn into you, one of admiration, as if he were staring at a painting. He leans his head down.
"You look pensive, dear. Are you anxious?" He stirs the cup of tea lazily, eyes boring into yours. "We have the world for you and I to call our own. We have money, we have an estate. We have a wonderful plan. Why worry?"
The world for us to call our own. There he goes again- saying things like that. You feel your blood run hot.
"Remember when you shot me?" You can't stop the words coming out of your mouth. He seems to falter slightly, and his body tenses. His voice is barley above a whisper.
"...Yes?" He looks at you with an edge.
You nod, recounting the memory. You're not sure what you expected him to say.
"Did you like me back then?" You whisper. You see his grip on his teacup turn his knuckles white. Your words are forward. You always need answers. You curse yourself.
"I did...I do." He breathes. He speaks as though it's his last night alive, faced with a great opportunity to finally speak his mind. "...But I always knew what you were really destined for. We were always fated to be together. Even from that first night."
It's all out in the open. Fated to be together. You digest his words. How strange- to be enthralled, captured by someone. His trickery, his identity. His hypnotism. It dawns on you, he hasn't once moved to compel your affections. At least not that you remember.
The whole situation suddenly makes you laugh.
He's stunned. He's silent long enough that he realizes he's staring, and makes an effort to keep his expression neutral. But his eyes don't lie, completely enamored with you.
"You're laughing."
"I am," You huff through quiet giggles. "This whole city- this whole situation, it's all so fucked."
His smile slowly widens once more. He doesn't know what to make of your reaction. He was certain you'd be cold, fearful. But you're not. You're...laughing.
"...You have quite the mouth on you." He's amused, despite himself. He sips on some more of his tea and puts down the cup. He speaks again with quiet humor. "You laugh when you're nervous, don't you?"
You shrug. Your voice takes on something playful. "And what do you do when you're nervous? Go bat-shit crazy?"
"Ah, among other things." He hums, sitting back. That grin of his kills you. "It was only one time." It was not, of course. He studies you.
You smile at this. At the way he talks. The way he dresses. Everything about him is so perplexing. "You're entertaining, you know."
He crosses his arms and shifts in his seat. His gaze is one of amusement. He's just as interested in this exchange as you are.
"Am I?"
"Yeah. You just have this edge to you. I can't quite place it."
"I'm nothing if not enigmatic, I assure you." He can't help but feel strangely proud of this. "I am many things; charming, polite, beguiling-"
"Cocky." You add to his list, interrupting him with a shit-eating grin on your face.
"Perhaps." He snickers. "I prefer confident, dear."
"I'm sure you do, showman."
You two enjoy the banter. Neither of you have been very much of a flirt with each other. Perhaps it's the fire, the smiles on your faces, the rush of revenge and hunger coursing through the two of you.
"And you are...what? Curious? Persistent? A tease?" He asks, delighted.
"A tease?" You snicker at his words, and offer a fake gasp. You roll your eyes. "If anyone is persistent, it's you."
He snorts at that. Yes, he's definitely enjoying this.
"Oh, really? Am I just going to have to accept the role of a relentless pursuer? An incessant suitor? An unceasing hound?" The words flow smoothly from his lips. You wonder if he's talking about his experience with Alice...or with you.
"You're doomed by the narrative." You settle on, beside yourself. His eyebrow twitches at this.
"You're terrible." He says with a mock groan. His eyes light up, the smallest twitch of his lips reveals his expression is one of childlike joy. You shrug and smirk.
"I'm honest. It's what you and your silly little delusions need." You bite your lip, and gently poke his hat to emphasize. You watch his smile falter as you poke it. Not many people would touch the hat. How...intimate, he thinks.
"...Yes, I suppose I do fall into delusions often...are you going to set me free from my fantasies, then?"
Time seems to stop at his sentence. He is talking about you. Whatever the two of you are.
You set down your tea, and make up your mind. You take both his hands into your own, and watch his dazed expression. You two look at each other, and a mutual feeling blooms inside you two. Warmth, comfort.
"What do you fantasize about, Jervis?" You ask softly, just below a whisper. The firelight bounces off his dark eyes, glinting.
He holds his breath before he speaks, smile disappearing. He seems completely serious, completely devoted, completely obsessed with you. You consume him.
"I fantasize about you. What else is there? The thought of just..."
His faze drifts to their intertwined hands. There's an intensity as he speaks. It must be the warmth of the flames, or the comfort of the surroundings, but the words that tumble from his lips are different than usual. There is a vulnerability to them.
"The thought of you and I being one...forever," He continues, "Is it wrong to want another's whole heart? Their affection, their adoration? To want to claim them as yours?"
"Is that what you want?" Nothing exists right now, except him. "For me to be yours?"
"It's what I crave....I want you all to me. You and your attention. I want that and I would go to any lengths to get it. I would move hell and high earth for you, Y/N."
Fuck it, you think. He's the closest thing you've ever gotten to home.
"You really are crazy, you know that?"
Before he has a chance to speak, you cut him off with a kiss.
His eyes widen in delight. He's stunned, almost unable to believe what's happening. He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you into his lap and returning the gesture twicefold, with passion. His hands move through your hair, cradling your head.
You sigh into his lips, pulling away ever so slightly. You feel him squeeze tighter. He's needy, desperate, still kissing along your lips and jaw and neck to consume every part of you.
The fire is all but forgotten, the sound of the city around them is muted. All you two can hear is the sound of your breath, your heartbeats, your touches.
He pulls you closer, his hands resting on your hips. His grip is tight, unrelenting.
You finally pull away, finding each other equally stunned at what just transpired. Heavy breathing and panting sounds out.
The silence for a moment is almost deafening. You can read it on his face. He can't believe someone would willingly kiss him back without needing to use his gift. He looks upon you with a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and pleasure.
"Don't shoot me again, yeah?" You say against his lips, retracing your steps. The sudden urge to run away melts within you as you imagine what your dad might say, what Tabitha might say, what Selina might say. You swallow.
He speaks gently, watching you get up, as if he can't quite believe this is real. He can't help the giddy smile that stretches across his face. He doesn't want you to leave. He wants you with him. Forever.
"I make no promises."
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vorakh · 3 months
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mm but seriously pathologic rewired my brain in how to approach a narration and the time and space it takes place in. you don't need a date to find its correspondence in your history book. you don't need to find this city on your world map. you don't need to know where the line between delusion, reality and magic is set. you don't even need to know who these people were and will be once their act is over. deal with it.
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omarwolaeth · 3 days
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thinking 'bout how the lads interact with what the bracelets represent, especially in their decks
#marwospeaking#Yuuya is by far hardest to work with on this because he Varies. but that might just be him being opposite to Yuzu so it might count?#anyway Yuuya is a bushfire made by fireworks set off without proper precaution (the improperly set off fireworks being Zarc..#.. being influenced into the position that made the lads through his desire to both destroy and entertain his crowds)#It's small sometimes. but in the right conditions is an unstoppable conflagration#Yuuto literally does not die. In a world where we never truly get the other two (Yuugo and Yuuri) interacting with their host (Yuuya)..#.. outside of duels. he very much does. He is undead in a way the others don't quite match (pre Zarc revival) and it's opposite to..#.. En Bird's life (assuming it counts death too as part of its cycle)#Yuugo uses machine monsters - things that distinctly don't breathe. and in most cases have exhaust pipes billowing fumes#and machines can be warm to the touch at times. which you could feasibly slide against Rin's Windwitches for being Very Cold Ladies#Also he's trapped no matter where he is. Neo Domino has a stronger grip on him as a person than anyone else. and when he might finally..#.. escape that. he's trapped in someone else's body with no canonical recourse. because the story ended on Yuuya's terms and no one elses#Yuuri is hardest to place but I think he's very stationary. Sere's monsters are dancers - constantly moving - and she's very able to#adapt as she goes despite how stupid she can be book-wise. Yuuri is rooted into his role. even when he discards his loyalty his role was..#.. always in Zarc's interest no matter if he knew or not. The Professor's loyalty from him is an add-on to that#... I'd argue Zarc cared more about his pieces than Ray cared about hers also? He made cards for them on the fly so they'd Win#Even in moments where that victory is not in a wholly positive light - Odd-Eyes Raging and Gatlinghoul - but we know he's capable of it..#.. a la allowing Yuuya to debut pendulum monsters on his behalf in order to win against Ishijima#something something this can then apply to the other lads. they never lose except to each other and Ray's girls (at least on screen)#Yuuto survived 3 years of war. even despite Yuugo and Yuuri showing up. so methinks Zarc must've had a role in helping him survive#Like. Zarc's distinctly present for his Lads. Ray's not present for her lasses until one of them speaks through her#Sure it's very possible that's a bracelet thing - they are floodgates at the end of the day - and not a Ray thing. but it also wouldn't..#.. surprise me given Ray is an Akaba. we know they will sacrifice others for a gain later on - Ray's was sacrificing a whole world to make.#.. a safer one for everyone to live in. irrelevant on if they remember it or if they never existed originally. Except Leo Akaba. He does#(with memory reading tech) and it tortures him the whole time. she didn't mean to hurt him but Still#Zarc's distinctly not better than Ray - he's still broken wide open when it comes to his hatred of humanity (but not his human half)#and it resulted in multiple near-deaths the second time around - but I can't say Ray's that much better if it turns out the bracelets..#.. weren't floodgating her ability to help her lasses#Completely unrelated but. I don't like what Arcray represents ngl. makes it seem like Zarc could never move on with the help of his lads#and has to rely on someone who killed him and sent him to purgatory about it in order to heal.
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mihotose · 4 months
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obviously im glad james somerton didnt make his disco elysium video but i also think its aftermath would have been extremely funny
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facelesspassport · 1 year
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It kind of pisses me off that people still hold the assumption that those with extreme feminist views are just "bitter single women". This stereotype should have been buried right alongside gamer-gate.
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maxiepkmn-moved · 2 years
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the virgin "all the characters are attracted to the player no matter their gender" mechanic vs the chad "you can recruit arcade by flirting with him as a man but this is not ever really addressed later before he disappears, never to be seen again" dynamic
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okay-babe · 3 months
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Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)
A Good Thing, Indeed
tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon &lt;3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.
Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.
You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.
Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.
Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.
Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.
Every. Single. Time.
It was as if the two of you were meant to be.
The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.
To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.
There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).
For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.
And how could it not?
You were his wife.
You!
The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.
The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.
You.
The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.
You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.
And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.
The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?
How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!
Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.
If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.
And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.
An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.
Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.
His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.
You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.
You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.
And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?
The short answer was, he couldn't.
And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.
And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?
Well, he tried his best not to.
Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.
Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.
But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.
Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.
Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.
There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.
Mimzy.
Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.
It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.
Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.
It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.
A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.
"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"
There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.
"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"
The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,
"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."
She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.
"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"
"Alastor."
Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.
"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"
She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.
"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"
She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.
"I'll see ya around dollface!"
She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.
What a fantastic start to one's day.
By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.
He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.
Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.
The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.
"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"
Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.
"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."
Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.
That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.
"Mimzy?"
It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.
Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.
"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"
The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.
"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"
She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.
And then, much to his shock, there you were.
Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.
Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.
The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.
"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"
She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.
"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"
You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.
"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"
Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,
"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"
She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.
Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.
"And you didn't think, my dear,"
He began, his voice low,
"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"
The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.
This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.
Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.
The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.
Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.
There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.
What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?
Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.
Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.
"Let her explain?"
You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.
'Stay home with me?'
'Give him a chance?'
'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'
(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).
And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.
She didn't have long, that was for sure.
If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.
And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.
And what a tale she spun, indeed.
With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.
Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.
And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.
You'd missed this.
(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)
Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.
Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...
"Mimzy."
Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.
Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,
"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,
"Efforts."
How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.
Alastor nodded,
"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."
He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.
"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"
The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.
She was quick to answer.
"Great question, dollface!"
She laughed nervously,
"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."
She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.
Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...
"Dearest,"
He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.
You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.
"Speaking of 'down here',"
Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,
"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"
Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.
Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.
"I uh, I killed a parent..."
You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.
"Pardon?"
He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.
You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?
Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.
You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,
"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."
You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.
He was positively enamored.
"You killed Harry Wells?"
He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.
Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.
"I uh, yeah. I did."
The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.
He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.
"And to think,"
He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.
"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."
You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,
"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"
Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.
"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."
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monster-disaster · 7 months
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[tentacle] The monster under the shower
tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: slightly dub-con
Summary: The resort is full of surprises.
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White puffs of steam follow your way out of the cabin until you close the wooden door with a soft click. Your grip on the white towel around your body tightens as you look around. The pool is calm but busy, not far from where you are standing. Humans and monsters enjoy the pleasant water of the pools while others lay on their towels or chairs, sunbathing. The sun is bright and warm at the top of the clear blue sky, and despite the hot temperature, you feel almost cold after spending a few minutes in the sauna. A thin layer of sweat shines on your heated skin.
Soon, you tear your gaze away from the others to make your way to the small stalls of showers at the back. As you step into one of them, you let the thin curtain separate you from the outside world. The towel gets loose around your body, and you hang it over the white-tiled wall.
Pouring some soap into your hands, you start lathering yourself up, covering your body in small bubbles. You rub the citrus-smelling lotion over your skin, rubbing your muscles and washing away the sweat and sand. Your hair sticks to your back in wet strands. Drops of water run down your face, cooling you down after being under the sun and in the sauna most of the day.
You keep your eyes closed as you slowly relax with a hum in your throat. Your fingers brush through your hair, drawing small circles on your skin to massage your scalp. Small goosebumps run over your body at the feeling.
The quiet melody coming from your closed lips soon gets interrupted by the sudden noise at your feet. A frown tugs your brows together as you look down. You feel the still running water washing away the shampoo from the top of your head. The foam follows the line of your spine. The sound comes from the drain. It gets louder and louder until the metallic noise stops, and you meet silence. "Okay," you hum, unsure. You will inform someone about the noise later.
Just as you look down again, something black emerges from the drain. Your heart jumps up to your throat, and you are ready to grab your towel and leave as fast as you can when the thing shoots out and curls around your ankles. The thick tentacle slams against your skin, keeping you in place. The sudden force is almost enough to make you lose your balance. "Fuck!" You cry out, trying to shake off the thing, but it only tightens around you. "Hey!" You gasp out again, bracing yourself against the wall when your legs part without your consent. It creeps up on your legs, not letting you move even for an inch. The thing is soft and slimy on your wet skin. As it moves, it feels like a gentle caress. "It's enough!" You break the silence again. "Let me go!" To be honest, you are more annoyed than afraid. You know the reputation of the resort. Things can happen here. That's why people come here in the first place.
Despite your attempts to get free from the monster, you feel yourself getting wetter with every centimeter as the tentacles slip closer and closer to your center. You can feel the tips grazing your folds. One of them rubs your clit while the other teases your center. Gasping, you tug on your leg again, but this time, you try to find a more comfortable position. Annoyance still bubbles in your chest, but the desire in your lower stomach is stronger. You feel the familiar cramp of need jerking your muscles with anticipation. Every flick on your clit radiates through your nerve, running up your spine and twisting your world. The tentacle on your other leg is at your entrance, teasing but never pushing into you. "What are you waiting for?" You grunt, groaning. Impatience shimmers in your voice which soon turns into a startled scream. The thing does as you want. It pushes inside you, stretching you out and filling you up. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs, and the rings of the curtain pop under the tug as you try to stay on your feet. The fabric barely hides you anymore, but this is the last thing you worry about. The tentacles wrap tighter around your legs, leaving red marks on your skin. Meanwhile, your pussy is still fucked and filled. Loud grunts and moans escape your lips with every thrust. The forceful motions burn your walls and push you higher and higher. Stars dance behind your eyelids whenever you blink. Your cunt throbs with pleasure. It sears through your veins. Your orgasm is fast and ravishing. The tentacles fucking your pussy and teasing your clit are the only things that keep you from falling. Your walls flutter and pulse as you make a mess on the already slimy limb.
When you win back your senses, the tentacles are already gone, and the water is still running, drumming on your sensitive skin. Your legs shake, and you need a few minutes to wash yourself down again and wrap the towel around your body. Your heart still throbs in your throat, and for a second, you aren't even sure if you only imagined the whole thing or it really happened.
When you pull the curtain out of the way, the young woman who greeted you at the reception when you arrived a few days ago is a few meters away from you with fresh towels in her arms and a knowing smirk on her face.
- Masterlist Mirage Resort Masterlist Patreon
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agustdtown1 · 29 days
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FOREVER GRATEFUL | JJK
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PAIRING: jeon jungkook x fem!reader.
SUMMARY: jeon jungkook was a man like no other, one that cared for you and your sinful needs more than he should, and for that you will forever be grateful.
WC: 5.6k
WARNINGS: age gap, jungkook’s older than reader (although there’s no mention of a specific age), their relationship is not the healthiest but they manage, jk’s line of work is not specified but it is hinted that it’s illegal, small (very small) mention of blood, pet names (doll, princess, pretty girl…), it is hinted —and mentioned, that reader doesn’t have much experience about sex, smut, pwp (porn with plot because I got carried away, but only here and there), restraining, blindfolding, unprotected sex (be better), fingering, light choking, biting, marking, name calling (slut, dumb), jk cumming inside reader, i kinda rushed the end so it’s not that good tbh. 18+ only!
A/N: so… this is my first time writing for the boys since I created my account, I hope this is not as bad as I think it is and that you can enjoy your reading. Lmk what you think and also, english is not my first language so if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes pls just ignore them <3!
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“Stay still.”
A husky voice rang into your ears, making a feeling as warm as the sun start to spread through your whole body; an electrifying sensation running through your veins, while goosebumps found solace on your skin. His voice has always been your favorite sound. The raspiness and low register adorning the man’s voice often got you weak in the knees, whenever he would whisper to you or call your name. And this time was no different, however, it seemed to have a stronger power over you. As magnetic as the voice of a siren, pulling the unlucky sailors out of the safety of their boats and into the depths of the cold water of the ocean; ready to devour them in such a frenzy that the last thing you could hear from the poor men was the start of a plea that would forever be unfinished.
Regardless of the difference between scenarios, the comparison seemed to be fitting. Jeon Jungkook was often described as magnetic, with the words alluring and charming following not so far behind. It would explain why you were found in such an interesting predicament at the moment.
A chill breeze brushing over your warm, bare skin, snapped you out of your wandering thoughts. The indication was short and simple. Discard your clothes from the very first moment you walk into the room and wait for him in bed. And so, your body, as many times before, was left completely exposed to Junkook’s hungry eyes; moreover, his eagerness to devour you was crystal clear, not daring to hide his fervent desire of having another taste of your sweet body. Watching you like a predator would to its prey.
His hands were tingling with excitement, for the future adventure both of you would go through, in a matter of minutes. Tonight, like many others, was dedicated solely to you, to your enjoyment; for you to, once again, discover a part of yourself that has yet to see the morning sun and yet to taste the deliciousness of the unknown. A new experience, a new journey, a brand new feeling for you to replay over and over again in your head, during those painfully lonely nights, when you could only find calmness in the feather-like touch of your fingers, running through your needy and greedy body.
Jungkook, however, knew exactly what he was doing by making you wait until your breaking point, waiting for a whine to fall from your precious lips, or for your desperate hand to reach out to him, whatever happens first, but in a silent plea for even a sliver of his attention. He had memorized every gesture, every reaction, every movement you would do, and it entertained the man more than it should.
“You’re tense.” Jungkook pointed out, easing the knots in your shoulders with his skillful hands. “What’s gotten you this aggravated, princess?”
It was the mocking tone, the graceful touch, or even his inviting eyes; whatever it was, it served as a decisive factor to push yourself forward and wrap your arms around his empty neck, like a snake would with its prey; hard and firm.
Desperate hands were first, then.
“You.” An answer was uttered, yet there was a lack of reaction from the man in front of you.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Jungkook taunted, acknowledging the power he had over you. “But don’t think I have forgotten the order I gave you.”
It left you confused for a good second, before his strong hands reached out for yours, stripping himself off from your needy touch.
“Stay still.” Jeon ordered once again, smirking once you obeyed.
You knew better than to challenge him, knowing that your safest option was to follow his instructions with no objection, if you wanted to get your awaited reward, that is.
Who would have thought that you’d be so accustomed to this routine. If asked, then give. If given, then be grateful for it.
The older man has improved your sex life in a matter of a few months, introducing your inexperienced self to the wonders of healthy and eccentric intercourse. Jungkook has proven to you many times in the span of a few months that your negative expectations of sex were granted by your poorly skilled sexual partners. Never once experiencing a dull moment since you were left in the dangerous hands of Jeon Jungkook.
If asked, then give. If given, be grateful.
Just like a believer would with whatever God sets in their path. Just like a kid would when a gift was left under the Christmas tree. You were grateful. It was easy to be. For it was gratefulness that had been installed within you from the moment yours and Jungkook’s paths have crossed.
Nonetheless, as grateful as you were, the hesitation in the back of your head didn’t seem to want to leave. The more Jungkook gave you, the more you wondered if you deserved it. But it reasoned with you that the true cause for your indecisiveness was the premise under which your relationship with the tattooed man had developed.
They don’t make men like him anymore, it’s what your friend had told you when she first introduced you to him, and it scared you. It frightened you that your only option to survive in such a cruel world was to cling to a man that was yet to explain what his line of work was. But then again, you didn’t want to know.
If Jungkook came back from work, looking unkempt and exhausted it was none of your business. That blood stain has always been on his shirt for all you knew. His sketchy friends have never once disrespected you, and that was enough for the time being. If he has broken the law, you don't need to know.
You would never know.
If asked, then give. If given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.
That’s a matter in which you could actually participate. In fact, it’s the way you were taught to be for the past few months.
You earn what you’re given, so show manners and be thankful.
Don’t question, just take. A mindset that has gotten you to where you were right now. In the bedroom of, by far, the most dangerous man in all Korea. Yet, not once has your well-being been threatened, and for that you're grateful.
And you're about to show it.
“You deserve it.” Jungkook reminded you before straying away to roam through his drawers.
The anticipation was killing you. Your eager eyes couldn’t see past his bare and muscular back facing you. Jeon thrived on the way your lustful gaze would always settle on his body, hence the lack of a shirt. Only a low waisted pair of jeans, that allowed you to see the hem of his Calvin Klein underwear, were preventing you from seeing his firm thighs.
You enjoyed the view, more than you probably should. How his muscles flexed when he moved, and the way his toned back shone under the dim light of the room.
It was such a delectable sight for your painfully sore eyes.
“You ready?” The question snapped you out of your thoughts, making you notice how close he was now.
“Yes.” You answered with light hesitation.
Your major enemy showing up once again: indecisiveness. But that wouldn’t stop you from giving yourself to the man in front of you. Not this time.
“Yes, what?” Jeon insisted. “Don’t forget your manners.”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready.” It fell naturally from your lips.
A satisfied smirk appeared on his face.
“Good girl.”
The dark haired man reached out for your wrists, placing a delicate kiss on both of them before tying them with a silky tie of his, and forcing your wandering hands to stay still once and for all.
“Do you trust me?” Jungkook gently asked.
“No, sir, I don’t.”
It was the only correct answer, and both you and Jungkook knew it.
The moment he earned your trust would be the moment he’d have to leave you behind, to fend for yourself and for you to learn how to navigate through the dark corners of your unlucky life.
Trusting him means leaving your guard down, leaving your guard down means being vulnerable, and Jungkook knew better than to be vulnerable, especially in the type of life he lived in. He didn’t want you to make that mistake, and if it meant giving you reasons to doubt him, then so be it.
“Are you gonna do as I say?” Jeon inquired.
“I will.”
“Good.” He leaned down to steal a harsh kiss from you. “You have no idea how bad I’m going to ruin you tonight.”
A slight shiver ran down your spine, knowing too well that his words were far from being an empty promise.
His tattooed hands descended on your bare body, ever so delicate, ever so tender. A stark contrast to what his real intentions were, and it left you craving more of it. Your insatiable desire for being thoroughly worshiped by his lips, his hands, all of him. It was never enough, and it will never be.
Like a stray dog in need of being fed, you needed his touch to be satisfied. Luckily for you, Jungkook was always a man to deliver everything you asked for, even if not verbally.
His eyes, never swerving from your body, took in all the reactions you gave him; from the way your lips formed a perfect o-shape, freeing the most delicious sounds, to how your back arched oh so naturally when his already trained fingers made their way towards the south part of your body. The place where he would get baptized every night, like a strong believer. Ending his thirst with the holy liquid you would suffice him with, not once asking for anything in return, but thankful of his merciful goddess showing appreciation for his dedication.
The only thing is, you weren’t a goddess and he wasn’t a believer. And the whole scenario was way more dirty in reality than what you’d often fantasize.
“Such a pretty doll.” Jungkook brought you back into reality with his husky voice, “Always so responsive.”
His middle finger traveled down to reach your entrance, teasing you with his light touch. Waiting for your reaction, waiting for you to beg. But just like he knew you so well, it was easy for you to tell when he wanted something from you. So rather than give Jungkook what he wanted, you settled for playing a game that would get you in a situation where not even God would help you.
You moved your hips ever so lightly, testing how far you could go without the tattooed man reminding you who’s in charge. Chasing his touch was easy, attaining it was a whole different story. And it was proven to you that tonight the ball was not in your court, when all you got was a chuckle from the man, while he retrieved his hand and leaned down to be face to face with you.
“Have you not learned anything yet, princess?” His dark voice made you tremble in your spot. “Or have you forgotten how things work around here, hm?”
Unwilling to answer, the only response he got from you was a strained whine, yet Jeon could see the desperation in your eyes, the fervent desire to be ruined by him, to be left defenseless and at his complete mercy. Your body wasn’t yours anymore; it stopped being yours the moment he set his eyes on you.
Jeon Jungkook owned you, that much was obvious. And as terrifying as it was, the fact was equally thrilling.
“How badly do you want me?” He tried again, with a question that drove you crazy. “Be good for me and say the words, princess.”
Wasn’t it evident? People often thought that you were too harsh to deal with, too rude, too much to handle. It didn’t offend you, nor did it crack your heart whenever someone would complain about your hot temper and crude attitude. However, at this precise moment, you were giving the man in front of you exactly what he was asking for, albeit not verbally, but your body was working on its own accord. For every light touch, Jeon would get a shiver, squirming, even a plea from your eyes. Any reaction that was in the books, you were already serving it for him.
Nonetheless, it seemed like you weren’t compliant enough for the older man.
“So bad.” You opted to respond instead, finally giving in. “I need you, I want you. Please, sir.”
It was like music to his ears. Your delightful voice, flying through the room as if it were the sweetest melody. Not even the singing of an angel would achieve the reaction that you were pulling from Jungkook right now. Just listening to you beg for him, that’s all Jeon ever wanted.
“You are being so good and polite, baby.” He praised you. “I’ll give you what you need, but…” The dark haired man drifted off, pulling out a blindfold from the back of his jeans. “I’m afraid we’ll do it my way.”
Terrifying, as looking into the depths of a deserted forest, but it was sinful enough for you to crave it. It was exciting regardless of what the whole ordeal entailed. Therefore, when the tall man approached you, with a silky blindfold resting on his hands, you were ready to follow his orders with no objections.
In a matter of seconds you were deprived of Junkook’s hard features, leaving you with a view of pure darkness, and causing your body to start squirming and moving around due to the anticipation. It was difficult to find calmness in such a stressful moment, but you managed. However, Jeon decided to start toying with you, taking advantage of the fact that you were unaware of your surroundings. And so his fingers commenced a trip down the tender flesh of your neck, rapidly traveling down your collarbones and lightly gracing your nipples, only for later on to pinch both of your buds in a harsh manner, one that ripped a strained gasp out of your mouth.
A sardonic smile took place on his face, however, you couldn’t see it. His free hand traveled up to push your cheeks together, enjoying how plump your lips looked and not being able to resist the urge to bite them.
Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his teeth sinking in the flesh of your lips, along with the way his fingers were kneading every inch of your body.
“Relax and stay still.” Jeon ordered. “I know you’ll love this.”
His soothing voice was helping you to calm down, but it wasn’t enough. The sensations that were running through your body and the lack of proper touch left you in an unbearable agony. You craved to feel him closer, for his skin touching yours, for his breath mixing with yours while your bodies were intertwined in a passionate race to free both of your souls. What he was giving you wasn’t enough, but then again, when has it been?
A greedy little thing, that’s what Jungkook has always called you. And rightfully so, because you longed for him in ways no one else had done, and it scared him. Jeon was afraid you might be too attached to him, moreover, to your own idea of him. The way you would reach for his hand, almost as second nature, when you were out and about, or how your eyes always gravitated towards his figure whenever he stepped into a room. That terrified him. Because it meant you were addicted to him in the same way he was to you, and that could only mean trouble in the long run.
Tonight, however, was not about his fears and insecurities. Tonight was meant to be for you; to supply you with the utmost pleasure you were able to handle, and even if you couldn’t, Jungkook was willing to give you more than what you asked for. So rather than letting his mind wander to places he wasn’t fond of, the man decided to grant you what you were desperately looking for.
His slender fingers slid into your warm hole, filling you up as best as possible. Moving in ways that would haunt you forever, as a reminder that no one —not even yourself, will be able to touch you and treat you like he could.
“There you go…” He muttered, so close to your ear that made you shiver. “Is that enough for my little slut?”
His husky voice echoed through every corner of the room, pulling a light gasp out of you. It wasn’t strange for you to hear him say such lewd things or call you such unspeakable names, but every single time he did, it awakened a wild sensation within you.
Answering to his question you shook your head no, adamant to get more of him, and desperately wanting to be filled to the brim with something more than his fingers.
“More…” You begged. “Please, more.”
His fingers were avidly moving, pumping in and out of your velvety walls at a steady pace. His touch seemed to be enhanced and it felt much more than any other time. Whether it was because you couldn’t see nor could you touch anything, or because of his skillful movements, you couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, there was no complaint. It felt terribly good.
“Yes, please don’t stop.”
Your whiny voice was making Jungkook experience unspeakable things. He was eager to have you, eager to touch you, eager to have a taste of you. But more importantly, so desperate to fuck you. In the same way he awakened a wild side of you with his dark stare, you drove him absolutely crazy with the little noises you made. Furthermore, having you underneath him, moaning his name while squirming in pleasure, and feeling pure bliss due to how good he made you feel, was boosting his ego.
Jeon Jungkook was a man that always strived to be praised, even for the little and insignificant things. So to say he was thrilled and satisfied by the way you were chanting his name like a sinful prayer, along with how your body was responding insanely good to his touch, would be an enormous understatement.
He was on the verge of losing control and claiming you in such an animalistic way, that would leave anyone who happened to be near his room, concerned for your well-being.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look like this?” It was a question that didn’t need an answer.
Jungkook was entranced by the way you were reacting to his touch, watching your skin coated in goosebumps and how your legs would try to wrap around his waist to pull him closer, in need of him. It has always amazed him how innocent and clueless you looked and acted on the daily, yet somehow you knew what to do to make him act up, to drive him crazy. It was as if you were just pretending to know nothing just to tease him, just to make him never leave you, but deep down Jungkook knew you were sincere.
Your life has been tough, to say the least, and he knew you were in need of guidance, in need of someone to hold your hand and walk you through the crude stages of life. Jeon has never told you, but part of the reason why he took interest in you was due to his protective instinct. The older man knew you needed protection, from who or what? It wasn’t clear, but he instantly knew he was the right one to do it.
Oddly enough, there was no one better than the most dangerous man in South Korea to keep you safe.
But the way you would act so innocently drove him crazy.
Even when you tried to act confident, there was this sprinkle of hesitation every time you did something —indecisiveness striking again. And it was difficult to ignore it, moreover, it was difficult to hide it. The man could see right through your weak act, and spot your nervousness from miles away.
Even when you sucked him off in his office after a tiring meeting, he knew you were slightly scared to do such a thing.
Someone pretending to be clueless wouldn’t act as eager and clumsy as you did back then, although there has been some improvement since that time. Your teeth wouldn’t make an appearance anymore, you would use the right amount of saliva to make it messy but still look appealing for Jeon. The man loved how now you use more of your tongue to tease his tip and how far he could go into your throat. But none of that would’ve been attained without his help.
If given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.
It all goes back to the same predicament: you often showing your thankfulness for every little thing Jungkook has done for you.
He saved you, in the same way that a human would take an injured bird into their home to help it heal. Only for the person to cage it after the bird it’s back on its feet. Whereas Jeon Jungkook saved you from your previous way of living, he also owned you, preventing you from leaving his side.
Your broken moan snapped the dark haired man back into reality. His eyes were glazed with lust, looking right down on you and your tempting body.
“Are you close yet, doll?”
He knew you were. Jungkook could feel you clenching on his fingers, but he wanted to hear it from you.
“Yes, I’m so close.” You whined.
Your hands were moving so much, trying to break free from the tie that was preventing you from touching him. Jeon silently enjoyed it, he enjoyed how addicted to him you were, that it was a torture for you to not touch him in any way. You were so accustomed to feeling him, every single inch, that being restrained felt like pure hell.
“Please… More, faster…” You once again begged, and this time Jungkook couldn’t handle it.
Ignoring your protests, he pulled his fingers out, rapidly stripping off the rest of his clothes to position himself in between your legs. Because yes, he was on the verge of losing control before, but now his racional side flew out the window, and so he couldn’t wait a second longer to be wrapped in the warmth of your walls, ready to take him in.
“My sweet girl, don’t be impatient.” Jungkook cooed at you. “I’ll give you something better.”
Without further ado, he thrusted into you with a hard pump. It ripped a moan out of you, making you tug at the tie even more. You were beyond annoyed that you couldn’t touch him nor could you see his beautiful figure while he fucked you, although it enhanced the rest of your senses.
You could hear his little noises more clearly, feel his touch even better than you usually would, and taste him so much more in every kiss he gave you. It was truly a blessing and a curse.
“You’re so tight, Y/n.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, preventing himself from moving manically just yet.
Jeon could see the struggle in your face, the way you were clenching on his dick so hard that it was almost impossible for him to move. No matter how many times he’s fucked you, you would never get accustomed to his size. But in reality, the actual problem was that the man hasn’t done exactly that in a while.
Truth be told, there was a reason for your eagerness, for your desperation. For your ambition to have more of him. Jungkook has been neglecting you the past couple of days, perhaps not on purpose, but his line of work has required him to travel to the other side of the world for a whole week. And now that he was back you were ready to trap him in your limbs for as long as you could have him.
“I haven’t fucked you in a while that your pussy is already forgetting how my cock feels, huh?” He acknowledged the situation. “Maybe I’ll have to remind this tight cunt who owns it.”
Without a warning, he gave a hard thrust once again, bottoming out. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t forget how big his dick was or how good it felt. Many nights you fantasized about his fat cock pounding into you while the only thing you could use to pleasure yourself was your fingers. It was such a sad comparison, especially because it proved that what he once told you was completely true.
No one will be ever able to satisfy your carnal needs in the same way that he does. No one will be able to make you come undone with their touch. You could only daydream about Jungkook rocking into you hard and rough, during those lonely nights when the only thing you could use was your small fingers.
Luckily for you, now you have it, the real thing. Now you could feel the tip of his cock hitting every right spot the more the thrusted into you. His veiny member slamming over and over into your throbbing cunt, crying for more of him.
“So fucking greedy. My dirty slut can never get enough of me, huh?” Jungkook groaned, “Look at you, already a mess and I’ve barely done anything, sweetheart.”
It was such a true statement. Even if there was no way for you to look at yourself, you were sure of your disheveled appearance. Sweat was coating your skin, making your messy hair stick to your forehead and nape, your lips were now swollen and shiny due to the wet kisses Jeon has shared with you.
But it has always been like this. Jeon always knew what to do, what to say, how to touch you to turn you into a babbling and whiny mess, one who could only chant his name and ask for more, like the little ambitious and greedy girl you were. Regardless of the way you would sometimes demand more of his attention, more of his touch, he loved it. The tattooed man loved how ruined you looked at the end of your rendezvous, staring at your tear stained cheeks and swollen lips. Jungkook was always fascinated by how fucked out you were once he was done with everything, it was his favorite look on you.
“You like this, don’t you? Being used like a fuck toy, not being able to do anything to fight me.” The older man let out a dark chuckle, while one of his hands crept up to wrap itself around your throat. “So defenseless and needy, letting me do anything to you.”
The more he talked the closer you got. You knew it was a matter of time for you to cum. And you couldn’t be more thankful for that.
Jungkook kept rocking into you at a rapid and harsh pace, fucking your brains out while calling you names that he knew would pull a reaction out of you.
“My dumb baby, taking me so well.” He praised you. “You always know how to take my cock, willing to let me fuck this pretty pussy however I want.”
You could only nod, gasping for air and moving your hips to meet his thrusts as best as possible. It was like a race to see which one would finish first, although it was clear that the man ramming into you would not relent until you were crying and shaking underneath him.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He confessed, leaning down to kiss your soft lips.
His free hand traveled down in between your legs to place his skilled thumb over your clit. His movements were like a bucket of cold water poured over your burning skin. It calmed the building fire in between your legs, just as much as it fueled your already approaching orgasm.
“You feel so amazing around my dick.” Jeon hissed over your lips, hypnotized by the way his aching cock would get lost into your soaked cunt.
“Oh god…” You moaned. “Please don’t stop, I’m so fucking close.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” A promise, far from being empty.
It was clear that Jeon was getting close as well by the way he so desperately was pounding into you, moaning lowly and leaning down to bite your neck.
His lips and teeth were doing wonders on your skin, marking you up with his bites and sucking on your flesh as well. Jungkook was devouring you, tasting you, ruining you as he promised.
“Holy shit…” He said in a raspy voice. “You’re all mine, aren’t you? Only I can make you feel like this.”
“Yes, yes, yes…” You chanted back, but it wasn’t enough for him.
“Come on, tell me, pretty girl.” He requested. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours. I’m all yours.” You slurred your words out.
It only encouraged the man to fuck you harder, meaner, faster… Exactly how you liked it. Jungkook was aware of it, he knew you like the palm of his hand, and although it was concerning how much he knew about you, it also came in handy in moments like this.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Jungkook alerted you, snapping both of you from your wandering thoughts.
“Cum, inside me.” You croaked out, biting on your bottom lip.
It was a risky request, something that you might regret in the future, not only because you weren’t on any contraception, but it entailed being connected to him in such an intimate way, one that neither of you were ready for.
“Are you sure?” He asked with a soft tone, yet you could hear the agitation in his voice. “Are you okay with… oh fuck, with me cumming in you?”
“Yes, yes, please. Just do it, fill me up, please.” You struggled to say. “I need to feel your cum deep inside me.”
Jungkook felt like dying with the lewd words you were spewing.
You were drunk on the ecstasy of the whole experience. Not being able to look at your surroundings, being restrained, the way Jeon was pistoning into you, hitting spots that no one has ever been able to reach before; the sinful words spilling from his lips, his hand still wrapped around your neck, albeit more loosely now. Everything was clouding your mind and leaving you in such a lax state, that prevented you from forming any coherent thought.
Regardless, your consensual words were all he needed to let go, shooting his hot cum inside of your greedy pussy.
“Oh god…” Jungkook moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
His orgasm triggered yours, throwing you over the edge in a matter of seconds, right after he came. Your whimpers were loud and high pitched, your body was burning and trembling, and you were sure the light makeup you were previously wearing was smudged by now.
You were panting, trying your best to calm your agitated breathing. Jungkook was still inside of you, with his face hidden in your neck, breathing as heavily as you were. Both still intertwined in a mess of sweaty limbs.
After a few minutes where both of you recovered from the intense orgasms you just had, Jeon finally pulled out, separating himself from you. His hands flew up to free yours, making you whine softly; he placed a soft kiss on both of your wrists, making sure the tie didn’t hurt you. The blindfold came off next, and it took a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the dim light after seeing pure darkness.
“How was it?”
A simple question, one that, in the ears of an oblivious listener, would mean nothing. An inquiry that held more significance and concern than a simple are you okay?; it was subtle but it spoke volumes the way Jeon Jungkook would still feel the need to protect you, even from himself.
He never voiced his worries properly, trying to play it cool but secretly concerned that he might have hurt you in any way. The man never learnt how to correctly communicate with others, but he would be damned if he didn’t express how much he cared for you in other ways.
“Amazing…” Was your response, albeit in a hoarse voice.
Your throat was slightly aggravated, feeling terribly dry after attempting to voice the pleasure and enjoyment from the experience, through the small space there was left from Jungkook’s hard grip on it. However, it didn’t stop you from answering his concerns.
Amazing, fascinating.
It was the only way to describe it, your mind was too foggy to think of a proper answer, but by the way he was smirking you could tell he was satisfied with your response.
“Good.” He nodded. “Don’t move, I’ll bring a towel to clean you up and a bottle of water.”
Before he could step out of the room your weak voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Wait…” You called for him.
If asked, then give; if given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.
“Thank you.” A small whisper was all it took for the man to walk back at you, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.
“Get some rest, I’ll be right back.”
You were left alone in the big room, spread out on the mattress while your mind was trying to comprehend all the events that just happened. Your heart was filled with questions, but you knew better than to ponder over those inquiries.
Jeon Jungkook was a man like no other, one that cared for you more than he should, and for that you will be forever grateful.
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drdemonprince · 1 year
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In a piece for The New Inquiry from back in 2017, George Dust states that when queer people complain about there being a top shortage, what they really mean is “nobody is fucking me the way I want, and I have no agency in that.” Alongside co-authors Billy-Ray Belcourt and Kay Gabriel, Dust suggests that many queer people align themselves with a passive or “bottom” position because they believe that role will absolve them of the guilt of really wanting things. They present themselves as what they believe to be the sexual party with zero power; the receiver, the accepter of action rather than its cause.
This position is drawn in contrast to the bottom-identified person’s idea of a top: the one who approaches, the person with hungers and desires, the person who decides which sexual activities will happen and how intense they will get. The top, from this perspective, is the stronger, more capable, more dangerous person. They’re the only one who can ever be guilty of intruding or harming somebody else. This power is scary, but it’s also compelling.
Dust calls this fantastical version of a top a “brute” — and they are the most cartoonish stereotype of what it means in society to be a man. Because it’s a cartoonish stereotype, no human actually lives up to it — and we’d probably revile a person even if they could.
Though queer people know we are harmed by the gender binary and heteronormativity and all the social scripts those things force upon us, its biases are still embossed on our brains. Without meaning to, we reproduce tired gender stereotypes in our relationships. And so we see expressing a sexual want as masculine, and being masculine as being more capable of violence and coercive control, and thus bad. We see failing to communicate one’s desires openly as desirably feminine, as well as a sign of blamelessness and purity — because on some level we still feel it is wrong to have desires.
But this entire worldview is a complete lie. Desire is not evil. Expressing attraction is not a violation. Failing to express oneself can be just as dangerous as not listening to someone else’s limits. Women can be abusive. Bottoms can sexually assault. No matter our gender, presentation, or sexual role, we are each capable of harm. And the only way to make a safe, mutually pleasurable sexual encounter happen is by going after it, actively, and communicating from a position of inner strength.
So how do you do that, if society’s been telling you all your life that you’re meant to date by acting like a deer passively snapping twigs in the woods, waiting for some hunter to hear you, and pursue you? (That really is dating advice that Evangelical Christian counselors give to women, if you can believe it).
By not fixating so much on what you’re doing or not doing to draw other people toward you, and instead thinking in terms of what you want and what you observe beyond yourself.
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ezukll · 3 months
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⠀⠀⠀⠀🥀 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗦
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𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟭𝗦𝗧 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the first house is a placement that can embody strong, passionate, and commanding energy. A person with this placement may have a confident, direct, and ambitious approach to life. They can be outspoken, willing to take risks, and unafraid to go after what they want. They may also have a strong drive to succeed and a competitive nature. However, Mars can also symbolize anger and aggression, which can lead to outbursts and confrontations. Finding a healthy way to harness and express the energy can be key in unlocking one's highest potential.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟮𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 2nd House is a placement that can have a strong focus on material possessions, self-value, and resources. A person with this placement may have a tendency to be ambitious and driven when it comes to accumulating wealth and creating a comfortable and safe environment. This can also indicate that they may be stubborn or set in their ways about their values and possessions. It can also mean that they may feel defensive about their beliefs, values, or ideals, potentially leading to confrontations if their boundaries are crossed.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 3rd House can indicate a strong desire for expansion and adventure when it comes to communication and mental pursuits. The person with this placement may have a strong focus and drive to communicate their ideas and opinions. They may be very vocal and opinionated, and can be assertive when they want to make their views known. However, they can also be very stubborn and unwilling to see other perspectives. They may tend to jump into conversations or arguments without thinking things through first.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟰𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 4th House suggests a strong passion and energy in the private realm of home and family. The person with this placement may have a strong drive for protecting and providing for their family and those they care about. They may have a need for security and a sense of safety in their inner world. They may be very protective of their home environment and those they care about and may have a strong desire to ensure the wellbeing and comfort of their family. However, this may also lead to a tendency towards possessiveness and controlling tendencies.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟱𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 5th House represents passion and energy focused towards creativity, play, and pleasure. The person with this placement may have a strong desire to express themselves through creative outlets and to make memories with their loved ones. They may be very passionate about romantic relationships and self-expression through creativity. This placement can also indicate a strong focus on having fun and engaging in thrilling, exciting experiences. On a more negative note, this could also lead to excessive pleasure-seeking or an addictive personality.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟲𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 6th House represents energy and passion directed towards the mundane tasks and routines of life. The person with this placement may be very dedicated and hard-working in their daily tasks and can have a strong work ethic. They may tend to take on too many obligations and be unwilling to ask for help. They may also have stronger reactions and frustration when things don't go to plan, particularly in matters related to their health, work, and responsibilities. This placement may indicate a tendency to take on too much responsibility, which can lead to exhaustion and frustration.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟳𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 7th House is associated with passion and energy directed towards relationships and partnerships. The person with this placement may have a strong desire for a committed and passionate relationship. They may have a competitive approach to relationships and can sometimes feel like they are at odds with their partner. Additionally, they may have a strong desire to win their partner's admiration or respect. They may be a passionate debater and be willing to fight for what they believe in. They may also be more argumentative and quick to confrontation when it comes to their relationships.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟴𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 8th House can point towards strong passion and energy in matters of the 8th House, which include death and transformation, sexuality, intimacy, the occult, and deeper psychological dimensions. The person with this placement may have great willpower and determination when it comes to exploring these aspects of life. They may have a strong connection to their emotions and be willing to go deep when it comes to understanding their feelings and personal boundaries. This may lead to a willingness to confront darkness and explore the unknown. They may also thrive on deep, intense connections.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟵𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 9th House represents a strong passion and energy directed towards philosophy, knowledge, exploration, and higher education. The person with this placement may have a significant focus on learning and expanding their understanding of the world. They may find passion and stimulation through gaining wisdom and deeper knowledge. They may have strong opinions and beliefs about higher truths and knowledge and may have a strong desire to discover the hidden dimensions of life. They may also be drawn to studying other cultures and expanding their worldview.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟭𝟬𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 10th House signifies a strong passion and energy focused towards career, status, legacy, and authority. The person with this placement may have a competitive and driven approach to their career. They may be hardworking, confident, and assertive in pursuing their career ambitions. They may have leadership abilities and may feel fulfilled in a structured, professional environment. They may have strong initiative and willingness to take action in pursuing their goals. They can also have a strong focus on their public image and reputation.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟭𝟭𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 11th House points towards passion and energy that is directed towards friendship, community, and social groups. The person with this placement may have a strong desire to be a part of a community and may be more comfortable with group interactions than 1-on-1 relationships. They may enjoy the support and stability of a collective and can be good at working together with others. They may also be more assertive and outspoken when it takes a position of leadership in a group. They may enjoy having a network of supportive relationships.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟭𝟮𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
Mars in the 12th House points towards an intense and subconscious energy that is deeply personal. People with this placement may have a strong connection to their emotions and imagination. They may feel a desire to be alone and prefer to delve deep into their subconscious and explore their inner world. They may have a deep desire for connection to a higher power or something metaphysical. They may feel like they need to take time to recharge and understand themselves more deeply before they can truly commit to someone else. A 12th House Mars can be more prone to issues related to depression and escapism.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 20 days
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Owned By The Demon Admiral (AFAB Reader Version)
Male Demon Yandere x AFAB Demon Reader CW: Noncon/dubcon, terms like pussy used for reader's genitals, yandere DILF, general yandere behavior, groping, biting, captive reader, reader is setup, an overly cute semi-aquatic demon cat named Mr. Sir Buttons Word Count: 2k (I am saying this fic is AFAB versus female because no gendered pronouns are ever used at all for the reader in anyway, rather their genitals are biologically female. Terms like pussy/cunt are used so if that is triggering for you please avoid this fic. This was a birthday gift for a friend normally I don't do AFAB reader so this may be a bit sloppy. I hope you enjoy it.)
The battleship you were on drifted through the calm blood red waters of one of Hell’s oceans. The light of the two suns scintillated beautifully off the serene waves. No evidence at all that your ship had just sunk an enemy vessel, condemning the unlucky demons manning it to death.
In the ensuing ebullience at having survived with no damage the leader of the ship, Admiral Oraan, put one hand behind on your ass and one behind your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss as his tail began to wrap around your leg.
You struggled to push off the larger demon but finally he released you. You steadied yourself and gasped for breath.
“I said no!”
Then you stormed off to your quarters.
This wasn’t the first time your commanding officer had done something like this. This was at least the fourth time you had rebuffed his advances. He just wouldn’t get it through his thick skull. You were focused strictly on your military career. The war against Pride, one of the Princes of Hell, was far too important for romance and sex to get in the way.
But you underestimated his desire for you. And his rage. You should have assumed that the highest ranking admiral in Wrath’s fleet would have some severe anger issues. But you naively thought that service to his prince would take priority over his feelings for you.
The first thing he had done was to sabotage your quarters during inspection. You didn’t know it was his doing and were angered and paranoid that someone would thrash your space in such a way, causing you to get written up.
In reality it was all Oraan. A rising action in the story of your downfall.
The next thing that was done to ruin your uniforms. He told you it was disrespectful to the prince you all served, to the branch you served, and to him to have your uniforms in such a state.
After that it was a more serious infraction. Reported for contraband that was then found in your locker.
The final, and most infuriating, nail in the coffin happened in the next skirmish. A small opponent, easy to sink and posing only a slight threat to the hellish dreadnought on which you served. But Oraan had forced multiple witnesses to claim you were a coward. That you had abandoned your station and hid in your quarters while the rest of the crew gallantly manned their posts.
This led to you having to be court-martialed. No time to dock and have more formal proceedings. You had to be court-martialed right on the ship. Despite the evidence against you, you thought that once you were given your chance to make your arguments and have your comrades vouch for your behavior and character then this would all disappear.
That isn’t quite how things played out for you. You started the court-martial optimistic but with each passing moment a sense of dread became stronger and stronger. Each witness, people you had respected and thought of as your friends, gave damning testimony. They painted you as a belligerent, lazy, neglectful oaf. Someone who cared nothing for duty, rules, or honor.
You had to hold back tears as your body shook with rage and sorrow. Why were they saying such things? Why were they lying about you and your actions and character?
It finally became obvious when the sentence was passed. Not death, as might befit someone who fled from combat. Not dishonorable discharge. No, you were being reassigned. As Oraan’s personal attendant. “A non-combat role where no one would be harmed by your cowardly behavior.”
It was all him. He had pressured or otherwise bribed everyone to turn against you. To lie about you. All to get you in his clutches and punish you for rejecting him. And there was nothing you could do about it. He was an older and stronger demon, you’d have no hope to beat him in a fight. And even if you somehow managed it, how would you escape on a ship? And if by some miracle you either made it to land or just waited until the ship was docked you would be chased for all eternity.
No, he had you in your clutches. Your only hope was that your contract with the navy was almost up. You were only to be enlisted for five years at a time before you had to renew. The only exception for that being prolonged was if a hot war was going on, but this one was nearing its end. Since all that happened was the court-martial was just technically a reassignment you were only bound by the terms of your enlistment.
All you had to do was endure for ten months.
It was humiliating. Oraan really wanted to keep you reminded of your new position. You had to be at his side constantly. Obeying all his orders and whims. You had to press his uniforms and get his meals. And in private the tasks got much worse.
Sucking his girthy cock was a common “request” of his. Almost daily. You also had to bathe with him most nights. This required you to wash his entire well-muscled form. If you were a willing participant you would have enjoyed it, he was very attractive, the tattoo of an anchor on his left shoulder and the three large scars on his ribs adding to his rugged allure.
But you weren’t a willing participant. And bathing him usually led to him giving you an “inspection.” That was where he touched, kissed, groped every inch of you before sliding his cock into your hot pussy, slowly fucking into you until he came hard. His tongue, of course, had to probe your mouth during these inspections, “just to be thorough.”
It was good that he had you eat meals with him in his private quarters, because you didn’t think you’d be able to look any of the other crew members in the eye ever again. The ones that hadn’t been involved in fucking over your entire life were the ones that believed the lies about you. On the entire ship you had not a single ally. The only one you could confide in was Mr. Sir Buttons, the semi-aquatic demonic cat that served as the mascot and unofficial morale officer on the ship.
You were on your way back from taking your food trays back to the galley when you felt something soft rub against your leg. Mr. Sir Buttons! You had a few minutes before you had to be back with Oraan so you stooped down and picked him up. He purred loudly.
“At least I never have to worry about you betraying me.”
He meowed as if in affirmation. You nuzzled his thick, red, waterproof fur before placing him back down to go about his very important demonic cat business.
When you got back to Oraan’s quarters he was naked on the bed. His large prick standing erect and ready for the attention you would surely have to give it, a bead of precum running down the length evidently in anticipation.
You sighed in resignation and began to strip your clothing. You had been doing this for over a month now. Only less than nine more to go. You could do it, just one moment at a time.
Too excited after leering at your naked form, he couldn’t wait for you to come to him anymore. Instead he got up and used his strong arms to pick you up and pin you to the bed. He stole your lips with his, kissing you in a greedy frenzy, his large cock swung below as he groped your chest.
“Mine! I can’t believe after all these years you’re finally all mine!”
He bit your neck, causing you to moan involuntarily. But maybe you should just give into the pleasure of the situation. It was going to happen either way and you’d be able to move on with your life once this was all over anyway. Besides, getting into it a bit might just help him finish faster so you’d have less time stuck in this position.
Oraan massaged the outside of your cunt before sliding a couple of fingers into you to get you wet and ready for his large prick.
When he lined his cock up with your drooling entrance, rough hands on your hips, you didn’t look away or flinch as you would normally. You wrapped your arms and legs around him instead, allowing him the perfect angle to slam deeply into your pussy. He grinned, ecstatic that you finally seemed to have not only learned your place but were actively embracing it. He slammed down with hard but slow thrusts. Each one making you gasp and each one punctuated with another kiss or nip up your neck.
Lewd squelching noises emanated from your sex as he increased the tempo of your lovemaking.
Had any of the crew passed the admiral’s quarters on their way through the halls all they would have heard was the rhythmic slap of Oraan’s nuts against your skin as he bred you along with the occasional grunt or swear from him or moan from you.
“Fuck! I love you so much!”
You only drooled a bit while looking up at him dumbly with lustful eyes, having been fucked nearly senseless. You scratched his shoulders with your sharp demonic nails as you pulled him closer to you in an attempt to somehow get him deeper. You were near your climax, desperate for it.
The pain from your nails spurred him on, causing him to fuck you at a new pace that straddle the line between pain and pleasure. You winced as he came hard, your tight clenching walls milking his cock and sending him over the edge soon after.
He gave a few final thrusts into you to empty his balls good and deep before pulling out and holding you tight, caging you in with his sweat-slicked body. You went limp from exhaustion, practically basking in the afterglow that always followed such intense, passionate sex. If you didn’t know any better you could have mistaken Oraan for a lust demon. Though you imagined saying such a thing to his face would have him prove instantly that he was, in fact, a being of wrath.
When the two of you had recovered he took you into the small shower with him. This time around, he cleaned you. Gently washing your body of cum and sweat before rinsing your hair. Far more tender behavior than you would have thought possible from the stern leader. Maybe there was more wisdom to just being more open to your predicament than you had initially thought.
It was a change in your behavior that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the man who had orchestrated the vast shift in your life circumstances.
“Finally decided to give in, huh?” Came his gruff voice from behind you.
You had no reason to be dishonest or hide your thoughts from him.
“Well, my contract is up in just a few months. I am not going to renew so this assignment is only temporary. I figured it’ll go by faster if I just accept it.”
He laughed and pulled you close to him, you could feel his stubble on your neck as he whispered words that made your fiery demon blood run cold.
“With my power, influence, and wealth I can assure you that your signature will keep renewing that contract for eternity, sweetheart. Whether you sign it yourself or not. Even if we aren’t deployed I will find a way to keep you with me.”
You went limp and would have fallen to the floor had he not had his arms wrapped tightly around you. The room felt like it was spinning. You barely took note of the water trailing down your skin or the chaste kiss he pressed to your cheek.
It was over for you, now that Oraan finally had you there was absolutely nothing that would make the older demon give you up.
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anantaru · 3 months
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overprotective ex!boyfriend aventurine??? <3
cw. [ex]plicit, rough sex, toxic relationship (you cannot keep a distance from each other!!!), he's obsessed with you, ex! boyfriend au, fem! reader
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let's get one thing straight out of the way.
aventurine and you were not broken up. it was merely a skimpy, little break— not worth bothering about.
at least that's how he saw it, and aventurine couldn't believe that this pointless pause was turning from a couple days to multiple weeks. precisely how you give off the idea of wanting to move on? live life but not with him in the picture?
without reserve, it turned him insane.
although luckily enough, aventurine had no plans of letting you go.
he wanted your relationship to go on forever, because you see, aventurine doesn't just love you, that certainly wasn't enough— he was undoubtedly obsessed with you, and the more you two were apart from one another, the more you craved each other.
or at least the physical aspect of it.
you cannot help it, and you know it's wrong— but there was only one person who knew your body from inside and out, who would reach for the stars in the sky in order to make you happy. aventurine wasn't the easiest person to get along with, sure, but that didn't mean you could just forget about him, not when you were still very much in love with him too.
to a higher standard, you do realize you were important to him, right? he's a little fucked up in the head and sometimes seems like he's lost his mind, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how love was supposed to feel like.
you showed him how it looked like, yes, how it felt, of course, how it moved and tasted.
at this point, you were really using each other for selfish reasons, acting like two dirty liars with two different goals.
aventurine was angel alike, calming to ones gaze— hypnotizing eyes that swerve tremors through your veins when he fixes you underneath his famished glare, or his cheeky grin that spread wide and sharpened on instinct when he catches you stare.
when it comes to the hold he had on your body, you are done for, sensed the magic-like pull resembling that of a moth to a fire, igniting your deepest desires.
"i knew you'd come back to me, sweetheart," aventurine's sugarcoated, and a little eerie whispers leisurely trickle from the tip of his tongue before running a cold shiver down your spine, "because you see baby, you always do."
"nothing can break us apart, isn't that correct?"
his thrusts were usually on the stronger side, but they held on to calculated movements of his hips trapping yours against the mattress.
his grinds and sensual thrusts ripple through your opening, rutting back and forth your sopping walls, truly restlessly, his raw skin connecting and hungrily soaking up your filthy juices.
your blistering hot cunt was designed to turn him into a mess, one that cannot get enough of you— aventurine gets drunk on the feeling of your pussy suffocating his shaft, and he's making you look at him through a doe-eyed expression when his tongue darts past his mouth to lick across your bottom lip, listlessly pulling angelic noises from you.
aventurine doesn't make love to you, such phraseology enunciated boredom to him personally.
at the same time, he fucked you with meaning— until the bed rocks violently back and forth and scratches the wooden floor as he reminds you on whom your body belonged to.
it's euphoric, salacious and wicked in the way how your snug, constricted cunt shivered around his hefty girth, his tip embedding a touch of feathers once and away your golden spots until you were crying out his darling name.
he drags further into your creamy cunt until you clench a bit, resulting in his thrusts stuttering through one, big snap forward and fuck, it's just so long, covering every spot on your walls without much thought.
and yeah, that's right, aventurine was not only confident in his skills but moved his shaft as precisely as you liked.
although now, his hips were suddenly turning slow and ponderous— you already know that he did it on purpose, probably to taunt and make you beg for him, or perhaps so he could slant forward and hypnotize your eyes with his own, buzzing gaze.
your legs were tensing hard around his waist as he angles his hips just right, setting off sparks behind your eyes when he pushes down on your bristling pussy— how magical and full you felt, it turned your brain overstimulated to the point where no left over energy in your body was able to even focus on the aftermath.
the moments that follow next, the consequences of fucking your ex boyfriend, merely days after your problematic break-up.
but that's what you wanted, right? it's what your body craves when you look at him through soused lashes, sticky mascara smeared over your eyes as his warm heaves ghost along your wet lips.
a big, twisted smirk on his face finalized this situation, your mind spiraling into the humid air upon witnessing it.
right then and there, it feels like there weren't any problems— only aventurine and you, grinding your bodies together with your heart rattling against your chest when he thrusts all the way inside of you until his balls hit your ass, his erection delving all the way forward.
how indescribably strange love was.
it can be destructive, but at the same time, it can pump the adrenaline and make your heart beat rapidly.
that was something no science could explain, honestly, an all-consuming emotion, engulfing your body and mind.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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helaelaemond · 8 months
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Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader
Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer
Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
"Would my lady care to dance?"
You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."
Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.
"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.
"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.
"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.
Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"
You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."
"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"
The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"
He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."
"And what of your wife?"
Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"
"How often do you dishonour her?"
"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."
You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"
Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"
There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.
"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.
"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."
"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."
Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."
Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.
"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."
Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"
"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."
Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."
You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."
Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.
Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.
Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.
Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.
You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.
"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."
You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.
"My lady!"
Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.
"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"
Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."
"Then stop when you are commanded."
"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."
"And I wish to speak with you."
The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."
He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"
You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."
He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."
"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.
"More than you know."
"I know nothing."
"On that much, we agree."
You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"
"Dignity."
"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"
His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."
"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."
"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"
Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.
"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"
"Of whom?" you challenge.
His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."
"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"
"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.
"What of my expectations?"
He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"
"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."
That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.
You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."
"Too much?"
"Don't. Do not do that."
Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"
"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."
"There is no pretence. I know not."
You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."
He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."
The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"
Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."
"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."
"You care?"
You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."
When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."
"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."
"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."
"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."
"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."
"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.
"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."
"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."
"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.
"I do."
"Not Aegon?"
"No."
He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."
"Will I dance with you?"
"Every night until we are wed."
As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"
"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."
"You want to possess me?"
He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."
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