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#taking fantasy settings too seriously
theia-eos · 2 months
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Not Tellius, but my random thought today is that Chrom's best lines probably come from what it was like for him (male heir who is able to wield falchion) growing up after his father waged war on Plegia, destroying nearly both Plegia and Ylisse in the process. Like, the things he needed to hear most.
"You deserved more from me than one sword and world of troubles. I'm sorry."
"You are yourself, before you are any man's [child]."
Not mind blowing, or anything, but I don't often see people talking about what effect his father’s actions had on him as a child or the kind of person he became (mostly because the game never talks about it, which was a real missed opportunity), so I thought I would.
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I have a big google doc thing where I keep track of media and stuff (putting everything in loosely ranked categories), which is mostly just for my own reference so I know what tv shows I've already seen before, etc. and I never really look back through it, typically just a quick "okay, watched two movie in the past 8 months, need to quickly slap them somewhere in the lists. okay. done. save document. exit". But today I was actually reading through some of the old notes and there are like... MULTIPLE places where my comment is basically "It would have been good if it were about elves" or "I wish there was a fantasy show made in this same style" or "It's well made, but I just keep thinking about how I would like it more if everyone was an elf or was in old 1700s costumes" or etc like...... lol.... Most biased media ranking system on earth blatantly made by someone with an extremely hyperspecific range of narrow interests. It'd be like if a food reviewer only had 5 foods they actually liked, so they'd just go to a pizza place and be like "eh, the pizza was okay, but I just think it would be better if it was cereal instead. :/ ...2 out of 10"
#Which.. I mean... I am allowed to be biased because literally it's just for my own personal reference (or occasionall#y to send to friends or something if we're discussing the topic) so like.. nowhere am I saying 'I am the god of perfect taste and these#rankings are objectively the absolute truth and everyone should have my same opinion' or anything#BUT still.. it's funny to me sometimes#'Succession would be 100x better if it had the same cast/character quirks and shaky camera style and#acting choices/weird dialogue and general concept etc. EXCEPT it takes place within an elven noble family or something#managing the family business and everyone is in fantasy costumes now'' like.....okay...... but it's NOT that way..soo... thats not the show#''I like the acting style/general tone of Fleabag but i don't care for any of the characters or any of the subject matter and I wish it was#set in the 1800s and had vampires and was about magic instead'' okay..... again... you are making up an entirely new show in that case lol#OR my other beloved typical complaint ''The concept is good but theres too much plot and action and not enough people just sitting#around doing nothing and exposition dumping world and character lore'' ''this needs more goofy sideplots and filler episodes''#''this Drama was too dramatic I think it should be more lighthearted & people need to sit around doing nothing just being weird more often'#''the Action Movie was ok except for the action scenes - which I skipped through all of- but I liked the costumes and worldbuilding'' etc.#ERM sorry your plot has too much plot. also elves have to be included somehow. bye#BUT SERIOUSLY!!!!!! I literally genuinely believe that any show I like (or even dislike) could ALWAYS be improved greatly by#putting people in fantasy or historical costume/setting/etc... why the FUNK would I want to see bland jeans and cars and cell phones#when I could see elaborate velvet cloaks and fantastical landscapes and interior design and innovative takes on historical or#magical technology or etc. etc. etc. I LIVE in the modern day. I see it all the time!!! BORING! stinky!! boo!!!#ANYWAY... another social divide for me.. People love to bond by discussing media. which is hard when I'm like#'I literally will not watch something at all unless it fits into one of these 10 extremely specific categories which are all i care about i#the entire world''.. I say this and yet I still dislike most fantasy or historical things I've watched lol. ok TWO main criteria then!!#it must 1. be in a different world or time period. 2. be goofy silly. Nothing ever has BOTH. It's always overly serious boring drama action#fantasy/history stuff OR it's comedic lighthearted but with modern day characters... WHY.. anguish and woe and so on..#ANYWAY jhjnk... at least I can make that divide. Some people seem to project their own personal preferences and get really emotionally#defensive if you say you didn't like something - as if the fact that they DO like it is some Objective Truth or something rather than just#opinion/preference based. I can still easily say ''this is well made/well written/acted/good in a technical sense/has a lot of#points of appeal that most people would be drawn to/etc'' and admit that it's a GOOD show probably. I just PERSONALLY think its#bad because my tastes are very narrow. Some things ARE actually made badly but. things are not bad INHERENTLY just bc they dont suit ME lol#Better to recognize/accept whats odd about you and be peacefully aware of it than just being mad at everyone all the time for not fully#agreeing with you even when you're the one with the Weird opinion in that case lol.. I am right though :3 but.. lol... still. i get it
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idkanameatall · 1 month
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Crying screaming while prepping for the hardest part of camp nanowrimo (naming my characters)
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trixiedjinn · 1 month
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- White supremacy postures whiteness as superior, but superior as the common underdog/Everyman devoid of unique ability or special significance except resilience. The myth of the usurper.
"Magical races" as a common fantasy trope are a reification of this concept frequently, as they posture "man" as the white man (even when it is intended to be inclusive) and relegate the other mystical races to racial stereotypes or racialized them in general in a way that isn't applied to human(white) cultures in the same setting.
They are potentially more common and popular because they allow for free engagement with this symptom of white supremacist society, where the myth is both true and seemingly harmless. This also likely ties into why queer, and other marginalized groups who get into DnD and RPGs with similar settings to faerun find themselves playing the magical races more frequently. As well as the trope of the most boring player picking a human fighter, where "boring" in this case is functionally a stand in for white straight man™. The other end of the response to/existence of this trope likely have ties to "white guilt," aka anxiety about occupying a position as an oppressor in a society built on systemic abuse and exploitation.
What do?? Unclear. 🌺
"Humans are space orks" as a trope seems like a promising response. Or making humans magical in some form as well, so long as that form isn't clearly superior in the setting to the other magical races. Else you get the same white supremacy that HP peddles.
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anoteofcalcium · 1 year
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Camellia is carrying me my Demon playthrough 😔
(Alt. Title: Camellia and her gross Little Freak)
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pfreadsandwrites · 2 years
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shout out to 'mixed nuts' playing in the convenience store and then later in the day walking past two guys talking about spy x family
#my god that anime is everywhere#spy x family#i apologise in advance im gonna ramble a bit in the tags#i really like it though dont get me wrong! just wild#pfinjapan#loid gets more attractive every episode welp#but i like yor less.... she's just hot waifu who's dumb but also a hot shot assassin and so physically strong without any explanation idk..#like she's kind of a psycho when it comes to her killing but sweet to everyone else and idk the 'teehee comes home covered as blood as a -#child- thing really didnt work for me i wish this anime contended with the things it presents a bit more seriously#and then her brother in the latest ep... yeah just over it#Like anya is cute and funny but this anime requires you to have a lot of suspension of disbelief to make the set up and comedy work#so it cant take itself too seriously - HOWEVER that's what prevents me from seeing any character other than loid as truly complex#so i cant get super attached#but its still an entertaining and enjoyable show... i dont dislike it#but i just dont think its a masterpiece#or that the characters are amazing or incredible... like the mark of a good character to me is how real they seem#pftagrants#side note: this isnt just a yor thing but a thing with 'cool' female characters in general - being super adept at beating up guys and/or-#killing them as women being presented as awesome/aspirational and badass is so annoying to me because it's a very male-centric form of-#-empowerment and is inapplicable to the vast majority of women in the real world... like what is that that our power fantasies is=#-something pretty much impossible#so we can't relate to these women and we're supposed toa dore them and aspire to be like them and yeah idk its just fucked imo#so id like at least an in universe explanation for why the character is able to be so physically strong rather than it just being -#- 'she's strong cuz women can eb stronger than men' that shit sets you up badly psychologically i feel#and thats why i love mulan like she learns to be physically strong by her own standards but she uses her wit and brain to outsmart and-#-defeat soldiers
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
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Au where HoH Steve keeps getting pestered by his roommate and best friend Robin to learn sign language in case his hearing gets worse. Plus, when he gets his migraines it might be easier to communicate.
He goes to the bookstore and finds a sign language book and signs to himself trying to pick up the basics. And, to his surprise, he takes to it pretty quickly and easily learns at least the alphabet.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Flash over to Eddie who has been coming to this bookstore because they surprisingly have D&D guides and a huge fantasy section - plus, Murray, the owner, sometimes lends him books instead of making him buy them.
But when he glances around and takes in the familiar surroundings and spots the very unfamiliar new guy in his favorite chair in the corner, he instantly freezes. Because this guy is his absolute dream guy.
Eddie thinks about how he made a New Years resolution that he wasn’t going to run away from things anymore. This time, he’ll actually go after what he wants. He walks towards the man, but stops in his tracks as he watches the man sign to himself.
Eddie takes a moment then decides that this won’t deter him. Instead of going to the fantasy section, Eddie goes over to the language section and grabs the first sign language book he finds. He goes to the register and gestures to the corner while asking Murray, “How long has he been here?”
Murray glances and shrugs. “Only a few days, but it looks like he’s going to keep coming back. Why?”
Eddie looks down and tries to figure out what to say.
“Ooooh. I see,” Murray says with a big smile and motions to the book.
Eddie feels himself flush red as he replies, “I’m thinking of asking him out in sign language. Rather than just, writing it down, you know.”
Murray stares at him for a moment but then scans the book and hands it to him. As Eddie takes it, Murray says, “You should probably know that he…” He trails off and gets a big smile on his face that sets off the warning signs in Eddie’s head. “He’s going to love that,” Murray finishes. “Have a good day!”
Eddie looks at Murray for a second before finally deciding that he’s just a strange man, and everything he says sounds strangely cryptic. So he shrugs it off and hurries home to start learning.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, and Steve finds himself sitting in the same bookstore with another sign language guide after Robin bet him that he wouldn’t keep up with learning the language. And although he may have started to give up a bit, he went right back into it to prove Robin wrong. Plus, there was twenty bucks on the line.
He’s caught up in the sign for “bitch” when he’s tapped on the shoulder. He jumps back and looks up at a guy with longer dark curly hair and big brown eyes. In his speechlessness, he nearly doesn’t notice the man rubbing his chest with his fist.
But Steve notices the circular motion, and then realizes that it’s definitely a sign for something. Oh! Sorry
Steve smiles widely at the man who smiles back at him. He points at him and signs your name? Steve can feel himself turn red as the deaf man takes pity on him and very slowly spells out E-B-B-I-E.
He points back at Steve who slowly spells out his name as well.
The other man nods with a smile and signs his name back quickly as if repeating it. Steve nods enthusiastically although he struggles with the difference between S and A, but he gets distracted and can’t help but sign beautiful as he stares up at Ebbie.
Ebbie scoffs. You are beautiful
No, you. Steve flirts easily. Maybe there will be a new motivation to learn sign language…
Ebbie pulls his hair in front of his now rosy cheeks, and takes a deep breath before quickly signing something which Steve gets none of. He really should’ve taken this sign language thing more seriously. He shakes his head at the man and hopes he doesn’t give up too quickly.
Ebbie looks a bit discouraged but slowly signs again, but Steve only captures you and want. Clearly this man is a bit too advanced for Steve.
Steve motions for a pen by just scribbling in the air since he hasn’t learned the sign for it yet, while praying that Ebbie doesn’t think he’s stupid. But the other man quickly nods and pulls a pen and small notebook out of his pocket as if he’s prepared for this moment. Which makes sense because he probably has to do this often.
Ebbie scribbles something fast and hesitates before showing it to Steve.
Do you want to go on a date?
Steve stares at the note and takes a minute to process while he tries to figure out what signs meant what. Then, he finally takes in what the question says, and makes eye contact with a very stressed looking Ebbie.
Yes, Steve replies as quickly as he can remember what the sign for it is.
Ebbie looks overjoyed for a moment, and then calmly signs F-R-I-D-A-Y. Then, he holds up his hands to show eight fingers and points down at the ground which Steve takes to mean here.
Yes, Steve replies dumbly not knowing how else to explain his gratitude.
Ebbie quickly gives him a thumbs up and waves at him goodbye. Steve waves back as Ebbie turns around and walks out of the store.
Steve can’t help but notice Murray hunched over at the register seeming to be crying from laughter. He wishes he was reading whatever book he has.
-:-:-:-:-:-
For the next three days, Eddie stops by the bookstore and has brief conversations with Ateve who takes pity on him and signs slowly for him. He even shows him a sign language book after noticing how poorly he’s signing.
Eddie’s just surprised that he agreed to the date after he signed the question so atrociously that Ateve couldn’t even vaguely understand it.
But he notices that he’s beginning to get slightly better at signing, but him and Ateve usually stick to spelling things out letter by letter until they have to ultimately go to the notebook.
But Eddie really likes Ateve. Sure, he has a weird name, but he has a really great personality that shows through even through his signing. Plus, his laughter is music to Eddie’s ears. He wonders what his voice would be like if he attempted to speak.
But that’s a horrible thing to think. Right? Eddie really doesn’t know the etiquette or what’s offensive in the deaf community. He needs to do more research. This research ends up taking him down a path of learning every curse he can in sign language… he feels oddly productive.
But then the day of the date comes, and Eddie really wishes he would’ve spent more time on learning things he could actually use. He ends up sticking to beautiful when he first sees Ateve.
Ateve smiles brightly and signs something that Eddie doesn’t recognize, but he signs thank you hoping for the best. It seems like the right response.
The walk over from the bookstore to Enzo’s is quiet except when they pass by Murray who is cackling by the register. For some reason, the past three days he’s had a laughing fit, but Eddie thinks maybe it’s just something he got from Alexei.
Eddie nearly whispers a pep talk under his breath as the approach the doors, but he doesn’t want Ateve to look over and see. Instead, he just holds up his fingers for two when they get inside and are quickly seated.
Eddie takes a moment to look at the menu before looking up at Ateve who shyly signs hi.
Eddie signs it back while biting back a huge smile before he sees a waiter approach from behind him. He’s been dreading this moment.
“Hello, gentlemen. What can-”
“He’s deaf,” Eddie says at the same time as someone else next to him. He turns and looks at Ateve who stares at Eddie in shock then he realizes…
“Holy shit,” Eddie says.
“Holy shit is right,” Ateve replies.
The waiter clears his throat, “I’ll be back in a moment.” He quickly walks away looking extremely confused but relieved to have been removed from the situation.
“I thought you were deaf.”
“I thought you were deaf.”
Ateve laughs, “Well, I’m Steve, and I’m a bit hard of hearing and sometimes get really intense migraines, so my roommate has been encouraging me to learn sign language.”
“Shit,” Eddie says and puts his head in his hands, “I thought your name was Ateve.” He laughs along with Steve and says, “I’m Eddie, and I started to learned sign language a few days ago after I saw you signing to yourself. But thank you for taking pity on me since you’re clearly advanced.”
“I stared learning days ago, and I thought you were fluent and taking pity on me. Plus, I thought your name was Ebbie.”
Eddie stares at Steve for a moment before laughing loud enough that the restaurant goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the commotion. Steve joins in after looking around.
The restaurant slowly resumes to the normal volume level as Eddie and Steve’s laughter dies down. Steve smiles and says, “If you want, we can still continue learning sign language. Together. If that’s something you’d be interested in…”
Eddie smiled back at him and replies, “Yeah, I’d really really like that.”
As the date goes on, they realize they have a natural connection and easily launch into multiple conversations, but then Eddie stops abruptly and asks, “Wait, did Murray know that you weren’t deaf?”
“Yes,” Steve answers confused but then a look of realization crosses over his face.
Bastard. Eddie signs.
Bitch. Steve signs back with a laugh.
Eddie finds that he can’t be too mad at Murray though because Steve deaf or not is absolutely perfect.
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stillmonsterz · 2 months
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my summer girl
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pairing: jay x reader
genre: smut, fluff
summary: it's 1975, jay is about to enter his last year of university, and he's still a virgin. however, he plans to change that this summer when he goes abroad to france. the only problem is finding someone good enough to be his first.
warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon
word count: 7.2k
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It was the summer of 1975, and Jay was going to lose his virginity. He knew that he was a late-bloomer; 21 years old, three years of university under his belt, and he hadn’t so much as seen a woman in her undergarments. But contrary to the teasing remarks of his friends, it was his decision. Jay wanted it to be a perfect experience, something out of the fanciful, romantic novels he regularly read in his spare time, or like a movie. He wanted his first time to be complete with red roses on white sheets, aromatic oils dripping from their bodies, and swelling music that led to a sensuous, thrilling crescendo. Jay occupied the time not spent on work, school, and his various hobbies with these grandiose fantasies. While his friends cavorted with the women from their established university, Jay bided his time. 
Then he got the best news of his life. As he packed away his clothes for summer vacation, one of his classmates who worked in the school office knocked on his door.
“Jay,” she said, “your mother called.”
Jay brightened; he liked to hear from his parents, and he was fully prepared to brag about both his grades and his prowess on the rugby field. The words that came out of his mother’s mouth, however, dashed away all thoughts of grandstanding.
“Honey,” his mother said as he clutched the phone. “We’re coming to get you shortly.”
“Today? I already booked a flight to visit you guys in a few days,” he replied. “I was just packing up.”
“Well, we’ve had a slight change of plans. We’ve decided to fly to France for a month this summer!”
Jay nearly dropped the phone, but he tried to feign nonchalance. “France? That’ll be a great opportunity to practice my French with the locals…”
His mother cooed, “Oh, aren’t you so practical? We’ll be staying at this gorgeous chateau in a town called Gordes, I’m sure you’ll love it…”
She kept speaking, but Jay was too busy imagining his summer. He wouldn’t just lose his virginity in France, he would be able to  have madcap adventures with a gorgeous woman. A wild summer fling charged with youthful exuberance and set in such a romantic country…it was beyond his expectations.
When he got off of the phone, Jay was practically vibrating with excitement. He rushed to his friends’ dorm room- Heeseung and Jake’s room. His own roommate, Sunghoon, was nowhere to be seen. Probably trying to convince his on-again off-again girlfriend that they should take a break so he could “sort himself out.”
Jay burst inside of the room. “Guys,” he said, opening the door with gusto, “I have some excellent news.”
Heeseung and Jake had been sitting cross-legged on the floor and playing a game of Crazy Eights, a game that they didn’t halt despite Jay’s intrusion. “Are you finally going to get laid?” Jake asked blithely, setting down a five of spades.
“Yes, actually,” Jay said, leaning against the doorframe.
Heeseung and Jake looked at each other, then at Jay. 
“Really?” Heeseung asked suspiciously, while Jake asked, “You’re not going to visit a whorehouse, are you?”
“Yes,” Jay said, pointing at Heeseung. He shifted his finger over to Jake. “And no to that.”
Heeseung chanced a smile. “You’re seriously going to do it?”
“Yes,” Jay said, crossing his arms. “My family and I are going to France for the holidays. I’m going to meet a beautiful woman, and she will be my summer girl.”
Heeseung rested his hands on his jeans, a smirk on his face. “Your what?” 
“My summer girl,” Jay explained, gesticulating madly. The scenes played out in front of his very eyes like a Technicolour romance. “We’ll meet at the chateau, we’ll play tennis together, hold hands, and then I’ll fuck the everliving daylights out of her every single day. Then- stop laughing at me- then I’ll leave her behind, because she’s my summer girl.”
Jay heard footsteps behind him- it was Sunghoon, trotting down towards the room with an annoyed expression on his face. “Hey guys,” he said, walking past Jay and sitting on Heeseung’s bed.
Jake turned to Sunghoon, who was swigging on a bottle of coke. “Sunghoon,” Jake said with feigned innocence, “our friend Jay here is going to find a ‘summer girl’ and ‘fuck the everliving daylights out of her.” Sunghoon choked on his soda as he doubled over in laughter. Jay clenched his hands into fists as his friends teased him. That’s fine, Jay thought, It is not by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity that great things are achieved, but by reflection, force of character, and judgment. And he had force of character in spades. While they dabbled with whores and sluts, he would find a quality, stunning woman to be his summer girl. 
As it turns out, not only were there no quality, stunning women milling about the chateau, there weren’t even any whores and sluts. Jay had walked all around the premises of the area in abject horror. The chateau stood by itself, nestled into a forested area with no neighbors for miles. Jay could. The nearest town was a 40 minute drive away, and not only was Jay an unconfident driver, but the town was so small he figured that any single woman was probably single for a reason. He tried to keep up his spirits so that his parents wouldn’t realize that he was disappointed- or worse, attempt to figure out why he was so disappointed. As he trudged through the opulent, spacious chateau, however, he felt a heaviness in his heart and a stiffness in his cock. There was a codgy butler milling around, a cook in the kitchen, and apparently there was a maid. Presumably, they were all related.
Jay slumped onto his bed and sighed. His room was rustic, with dark-stained floors, white-washed walls, and hand-carved wooden furniture. There was a small bookshelf in his room replete with both French and English books, so at least he would come away this summer with a decent grasp of French grammar. Jay groaned again, closing his eyes. He wished that the soft light filtering through the gauzy curtains beside his bed  would turn to raucous thunder and gloomy skies, or at the very least a drizzle of rain to complement his mood.
He heard a knock on the door and sighed. “Who is it?”
“Ah, housekeeping,” the voice said quietly. Jay’s ears perked up; that voice sounded decidedly feminine. Then he came back to reality; maids were generally married women who would have little interest in sleeping with the son of the master of the home. When Jay didn’t respond, the woman continued, saying, “Mrs. Park asked to have some tea delivered to your door, in case the flight unsettled your stomach.”
He wished that it was the flight causing him this internal anguish. “Please,” he said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms behind his head, “bring it in.”
The door opened quietly, and Jay could hear the rattle of the tea tray as it was carried into the room and set on his nightstand. His nose picked up on something, a floral fragrance that wafted in a pleasant cloud. 
He opened his eyes, and then he saw you.
You were wearing a dark blue maid uniform with a stained white apron, but you kept yourself well. You were groomed well, your nails were clipped short and polished, and your face was bright and sweet. And that perfume…Jay wondered how much you had had to save up to purchase it, or if it had been a gift. Maybe a boyfriend had gifted it to you.
“Did you need something else?” Your voice was so kind, and you looked at him so expectantly.
“No,” Jay whispered softly, “nothing at all.”
You nodded and pointed to a small piece of cloth hanging out of the wall above his desk. In his despondent mood, Jay hadn’t noticed it. “If you need me, you can pull that and it’ll alert me. It’s a bit old-fashioned, but this is an older house…”
Jay smiled. “Any time?”
“When you need something, sir,” you replied, smoothing your apron down. 
Jay cleared his throat. “Of course.” He poured himself a cup of tea, dropping two lumps of sugar inside and mixing it languidly. As he sipped his tea, he noticed that you were still lingering nearby. His smirk was hidden by his teacup as he looked you up and down. You must want him already. “Ah…you’re still here, Miss…?”
You told him your name, then said, “I have to be dismissed.”
Jay’s face reddened. “Right. Yes, right, of course. You’re dismissed.” You bid him goodbye and left him with the tea tray. As Jay sipped his tea, his feet crossed at the ankle, his vision for the summer shifted. Instead of wild encounters in haylofts and dirty, wet hot sex in valleys and behind churches, Jay now envisioned himself ravaging you in that little maid outfit of yours. Yes, he thought as his hand slowly crept to his crotch, this was perfect. 
He had found his summer girl.
Jay was able to quickly ascertain the problem with his plan- you were his maid. And you had to work. While he lounged outside, sunbathing shirtless, you were inside polishing the silver. He would eat lavish dinners, and you were the one who set the table, brought the food, and stood by on hand and foot. While he enjoyed being able to ogle you at his leisure, he started to feel like a brat. What could he do to prove to you that he wasn’t just a spoiled child? 
When he would stew over this, he would feel indignant. Why did he care about what the wait staff thought of him? He was Jay Park, and you should be so glad that he wasn’t ordering you to hand-wash his boxers. In fact, what was stopping him from just ravishing you the second you walked inside of his room? He was a rugby player, and rich, and he could get away with it. Just as quickly as those thoughts would enter his head, however, they would be cast out. For starters, it wouldn’t be right. Moreover, it wouldn’t have been earned. He had spent years building up to the loss of his virginity, and he didn’t want it to be with a woman struggling to get away from him. He wanted to seduce her, pliant in his arms as he made passionate love to her on his bed, or on a beach, or maybe on the balcony, or by a river…
Generally, these mental deliberations always ended with him squirting lotion onto his hands and soothing his angry cock the best way he knew how. They were always fuelled by the image of you puttering around the chateau. 
You had this way about you that Jay found intoxicating. He would always pretend to read, but he would take peeks at you as you cleaned up. Something about your movements, your manner of speech were all so sensual. The care with which you take care of the house, the knitting of your eyebrows as you scrubbed at a particular spot, the precision you utilized when tidying his room, it all appealed to his more epicurean sensibilities. And, of course, that scent…whenever you left the room, he would stand where you had been and he would deeply inhale its heady aroma. 
After a week of this, Jay had come up with a paltry idea. He tugged on the piece of cloth, and within three minutes you arrived at the door. As usual, your expression was bright. “Hello, sir,” you said politely. 
“Hi,” he said with a tenderness that would have earned him Jake’s derision. “I would like you to bring me some Earl Grey tea. And bring two teacups.”
You gave him a quizzical look, but you said, “Yes, sir,” and bustled out of the room anyway. 
When you left, Jay picked up his small pocket mirror and checked his hair. He unbuttoned one of his buttons on his loose shirt, fluffed out the collar, and parted the curtains so that the light would settle on his face better. He laid on his bed with a practiced relaxation, waiting for you to return. 
You came back with a tea try equipped with two cups. Setting it on the nightstand, you smiled. “Enjoy, sir…”
“No, no, you’ll join me,” Jay replied. The way your eyes widened was so cute, Jay just wanted to kiss you.
“Oh…I don’t know if I can do that, I’ve got to polish the silver…”
“I’ll come down and vouch for you,” Jay said, holding one of the cups to her. “Please? I haven’t been able to talk to anyone near my age in a week. I’m going mad.”
You laughed and warily accepted the cup, which you then set down to pour his own tea. 
Jay rested a hand on yours and shook his head. “Please, allow me. Come on, sit on the bed.”
You did as he said, leaving a fair bit of space between the two of you. He carefully poured the tea for both of you, willing his hand to stay steady. “How do you take your tea?”
“Just like this,” you said. 
“Really? No sugars, no milk, no cream?”
You shook your head, and Jay sighed. “Have you ever tried it with sugar?”
Once again, you shook your head, sipping your tea. “No point in wasting sugar like that.”
Jay gently took your cup and dropped a lump of sugar into your tea, mixing it. “Try it like this.”
You wrapped both of your hands around the cup and took a slow sip. He loved the way you drank. “It’s good like this,” you said. “Very good.”
“Isn’t it?” Jay looked at you closely, and he knew that the warmth bursting inside of his chest wasn’t good for his plan. You were his summer girl, and affection would only ruin that. Jay drank his tea, trying not to stare at you. He decided that engaging you in a conversation might help; reminding himself of the class difference between you two would stave off the feelings blossoming within him. “So…what do you like to do?”
“What do I like to do?” You drummed your fingers on the cup as you thought. “Well…I like to go for walks. The area is simply gorgeous, so I go for walks when I’m not working. I like to sketch, too.”
“You sketch?” Jay swallowed his tea in one painful gulp. “What do you like to draw?”
“Oh…everything, I guess. The things I see. I like to draw flowers, trees. Sometimes people.”
“Would you draw me?” Jay blurted out, setting his tea cup on the tray.
“I couldn’t do that,” you said with a slight laugh. “Imagine how embarrassed I would feel if I made you look bad.”
“I’m sure you couldn’t do that,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “You’re so careful with everything you do. I bet your drawings are lovely.”
“You’re just flattering me, sir.”
“No, no, not at all,” Jay said with a laugh. 
“Or you’re trying to get a free portrait out of me.”
Jay shrugged. “Can you blame me?”
“Yes, I can. Someone like you could afford to fly Elisabeth Chaplin here and have her paint a portrait of you,” you retorted. Then you stiffened; Jay figured that you weren’t used to speaking so casually.
He kept his voice light. “What are you saying then, that I should pay you?”
“How much would you pay for a portrait I did of you?”
“For you-,” he began, but just then, you heard a bell chime in a different room. The veneer of nicety came over you, and you quietly put your tea cup on the tray and lifted it. 
“Thank you for the tea-time, sir,” you said politely. “Have a lovely day.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, dejected. “You too.”
After that, he pulled on the cloth and asked for tea three more times. Three more times he had shared conversations of varying length with you, and something dreadful had happened to Jay. Instead of waves of raw, primal lust overtaking him and pushing him to take you on the sheets, Jay felt warm when he spoke to you. 
You told him about your ambitions, about how you had become a maid, your favourite records, your favourite books, how you would walk down the dusty road winding into town and meet your friend halfway. Then you would watch movies with her. You liked movies that were thrilling, a contrast to your own life. Every time you laughed, your eyes shifted, every time your fingers wrapped around the small teaspoon as you swirled a lump of sugar into your tea, Jay felt like the sun was rising within him. 
He watched you as you cleaned up. When you would go outside to tidy up the tennis courts after your parents would play a game, he would watch you, sometimes with one hand shoved inside of his pants. 
Jay knew that his fantasy of using you as nothing more than a warm body and bragging rights was fading away quickly. He had to refocus his efforts…but how? As he paced around his room one night, he got an idea. A damned good one, if you asked him. 
He knew that you got off work at 6 pm, so at 5:59 pm he tugged on the cloth. The scene was set; his bedsheets had been rumpled to mimic a post-coital aftermath, his shirt was sensually unbuttoned, and he had dabbed cologne behind his ears and on his wrists. The record player in the corner was playing a crooning Serge Gainsbourg song. The piece-de-resistance was the bottle of pinot noir that Jay had filched from his parents’ room while they were taking a stroll in the forest, along with two fine-stemmed wine-glasses.
As he heard your footsteps approaching his room, he adjusted his position so that he was lying on his back, one hand draped over his stomach, the other hanging over the edge of the bed. 
“Mr. Park?” you asked softly, rapping on his door.“Come in,” Jay said in a low, husky voice.
“What was that?”
“I said, ‘Come in,’” Jay said normally. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and Jay smirked at you. You had no clue what he had prepared for you. As usual, you were wearing your maid outfit, and your hands were clasped in front of your apron. Even from here, he could smell your sweet, floral scent; it was almost an aphrodisiac to Jay.
 “Come sit.”
You sat at the end of the bed so that his feet were pointed towards you. He shifted his position so that he was sitting up slightly. He leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of wine.
“Do you like wine?” Jay asked, uncorking the bottle.
You nodded. “I do. I don’t drink it often, though.”
Jay poured you a glass of wine, making sure not to spill a drop. “This is a nice Domaine de Montille Les Pezerolles, from Pommard.”
“Oh, really?” You swirled the wine around in the glass, and he was pleased to see that you held the wineglass’ stem at the bottom. “It sounds good.”
“Yes,” he said, pouring himself a glass. He took a slow sniff of the wine before taking a sip. “This is from 1969, so it hasn’t completely thinned. In fact, it has a full body- you smell that?”
Before you could speak, Jay continued. “It was a dry summer when they harvested these grapes in Pommard in a premier cru- do you know what a premier cru is? It’s a vineyard where high-quality grapes are harvested. Of course, these aren’t the creme de la creme. The best grapes are harvested in what are called grand crus. Do you know Romanee-Conti?”
You paused, then said, “Ah…that’s a very expensive wine, yes?”
“It’s a type of wine,” Jay said, taking another sip of his wine. “I take it you’ve never had any?”
“Well…no.”
Jay pointed his pinky at you while he held onto his wineglass. “I’ll have to get you some someday. I’ve had a glass once, I believe it was a 1956 La Tache, and you can simply taste the caliber of the grapes. The tannins weren’t strong, more on the silkier side…”
You tilted your head. “What are tannins?”
Jay’s face brightened.Somehow, without knowing it, Jay had spent two hours explaining what tannins were, how wine was harvested, the ideal temperature to enjoy wine, and how he would pair the wine they were currently drinking with a meal. After 8 o’clock had approached, you had quietly excused yourself, bidding him goodnight. Jay had waved goodbye gaily, until he looked down at his empty wine glass and realized belatedly that he had squandered his opportunity to fuck you. 
Jay sighed and poured himself another glass of wine, sitting on his bed and closing his eyes. He was running out of ideas, and the third week of vacation was steadily approaching. If he went back to school without knowing what you felt like, what you tasted like, Jay thought he might die.
His dreams that night centered around you lying on his bed, naked save for a black pair of pantyhose. Jay was pouring that wine all over your body and sucking it off of your breasts, licking the sweetness from your stomach like a madman. He poured wine into your mouth, and you kissed him back so that he could drink from you. When Jay woke up, the taste of pinot noir was heavy on his tongue.
The next day, after breakfast, Jay knocked on the door of his parents’ room in the chateau. His father opened the door, smiling at him. 
“Hey, kid,” Mr. Park said, affectionately ruffling his hair. His father was wearing the same set of pajamas that Jay wore
“Dad,” Jay said quietly, “I need to speak with you.”
His father’s eyes narrowed in confusion; Jay’s expression was earnest and his tone was pleading. “Sure.”
Once they were safely inside of Jay’s room, Jay sat on his bed. His father joined him. 
“Dad…” Jay hesitated, unsure of how to word his question. Finally, he said it as plainly as he could: “How did you win Mom over? I mean…how did you approach her?”
Mr. Park’s eyes twinkled. “Has someone caught your eye?”
Jay tried to ward off his father, who was nudging him in the ribs with his elbows. “Not-not quite, Dad. Just…for the future, you know? For the future.”
Mr. Park laughed. “Sure, son.” He looked up at the ceiling as he thought, and Jay looked directly at his father. “Well, it wasn’t easy. I had to chase your mother. She was popular, beautiful, and smart, so it wasn’t an easy task. But she said that what she enjoyed was when I would send her flowers.”
“Flowers?”
His father shrugged. “She said it was such a classic gesture, it made her feel like I was more of a traditional man. Not someone who would just toy with her emotions then cast her aside like so much filth.”
“Flowers,” Jay repeated, his eyes darting around. Of course. Flowers.
“I was also honest about my intentions,” Mr. Park continued. “I knew that she was desirable, so I didn’t want to waste time. I told her how I felt and showed her my cards. That might not work for every woman, but your mother and I thought- think- similarly. And that’s what you want to find, Jay. Not someone who mirrors you, but someone who thinks just similarly enough to you that you’ll hardly argue, and differently enough that your arguments will be interesting.”
Jay smiled at his father’s joke, but he quickly became lost in thought. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ve got a lot to consider.”
Mr. Park ruffled his son’s hair again. “Glad I could help, sport. I hope things go well with this girl.”
Jay smiled at his father affectionately. “Yeah, me t-,” Jay’s face blanched. “I mean, there is no girl.”
His father laughed as he left the room, and Jay sighed. At least now a plan was forming, something concrete. 
– 
Jay spent his entire afternoon wandering through the forest bordering the chateau searching for flowers. He brought his thick canvas bag with him, as well as a pair of shears. Every time he saw a gorgeous flower, he snipped it carefully and placed it into the bag. Violets, white flax, buttercups, sheaths of elderberry, red and purple poppies. Jay had to work fast; he wouldn’t forgive himself if the flowers even slightly wilted before you could enjoy them. As the sun set, Jay’s fingers were caked in dirt, sweat coated his brow, but his bag was filled with various, fragrant flowers. To his delight, he realized that their scent was similar to yours, and he walked towards the grounds of the chateau with his nose buried in a handful of flowers. 
You lived in the servants’ quarters, which was a smaller house located on the edge of the premises. It was past six o’clock, so you would surely be there now, washing up. Maybe you had already changed into something comfortable. Jay darted inside of his bathroom, cleaning all of the dirt off of his nails and changing into a loose shirt and linen pants. He slicked his hair back and applied cologne. Using a light blue ribbon from a package of artisanal biscuits, he tied the flowers together into a rough bouquet. Jay arranged the flowers carefully, placing the violets at the front and tucking the elderberry flowers as accents.
Jay swallowed thickly and walked over to the servants’ quarters. He knocked on the door, and as he waited for someone to come to the door he reminded himself that he was Jay Park, the son of James Park, someone to be revered, someone to be respected. 
To his delight, you answered the door. You were wearing a long nightgown, and your smile was so soft and dreamy Jay could have melted. 
“Hello, sir,” you said, leaning your head against the doorframe. “To what do I owe this honour?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. Then he thrusted the flowers towards you. “Here. For you.”
You beamed at him, and Jay knew he would have spent a month traversing that forest if it would make you smile like that again. “Thank you.” You received the bouquet, touching the flowers delicately. You closed your eyes and took in their scent.
Jay lingered outside of your door. He felt like he was being split into pieces. He wanted to caress your hair and kiss your cheek; he wanted to barge into your house, toss you on your bed, and take what he wanted from you; he wanted to run away until he was a better man, a stronger man; he wanted to be one of the flowers you were stroking, the perfume you inhaled. 
You looked up at him. “The butler and the cook won’t be back until 8,” you said quietly. “They’re still at the chateau.”
Jay’s breath caught inside of his throat. “Is that so?” 
“Yes, sir. So if you liked, we could go inside and talk?”
Jay’s eyes glowed. “Yes, yes, of course.”
You led him inside of the small home; there was one large room that constituted the kitchen, living room, and dining room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms that were hardly more than a cot and a dresser. Yours had drawings stuck on the wall, a threadbare blanket covering the bed, and a dresser that was covered in your makeup, hairbrush, and other toiletries. Jay sat on your bed and frowned as he looked around his room. 
“What is it?” you asked, setting the bouquet on the dresser. “Not to your liking?”
“That’s not it,” Jay said, his eyes fixed on your drawings. “It’s just that you deserve something better.”
You smiled at him. “Do I? Why?”
“Why? What do you mean, why? You’re…you’re too good for this,” Jay said, gesturing wildly. 
“So where should I be?”
So many words sprung to his mind that they clogged in his throat. You should be in my bed, in my college, in that chateau, on a beach being ravaged next to the ocean, lying in a flower field, anything except being a maid. Instead, Jay looked down at his hands.
“I’ll just get a vase for this,” you said, gesturing at the bouquet. Jay nodded, and as you left he gripped his thighs and sighed. He could hear his heartbeat thumping madly, and the fact that he was in your room wasn’t making things any better. Your scent was everywhere, lingered on everything, and it set his heart ablaze. 
With a furtive glance at the door, he leaned down to your pillow and inhaled deeply. Jay moaned slightly; he wished that you would stay away for a little longer, so that he could pleasure himself in a cocoon of your fragrance. He’d leave traces of himself everywhere, in your clothes, in that maid outfit, in your underwear. Jay was considering pawing around in your drawers to find your panties when you came back with a chipped vase. You set it on your dresser and tucked the flowers inside of it carefully, not disrupting the arrangement that Jay had made. For some reason, the way that your fingers deftly placed the flowers in the vase made him shiver from arousal. 
He couldn’t hold back anymore. Three weeks now, three weeks of smelling you and seeing you and learning about you without so much as a touch. Once you stepped away from the glass vase, Jay came up behind you and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. You seemed more curious than anything else, your arms splayed at your sides.
“I want you,” Jay whispered. “I want you so...ardently, it hurts.” With trembling fingers, he shoved your nightgown all the way up to your waist. Now, he could glimpse your panties- white, of course you wore white panties. It was like you had been designed to ruin his summer. 
Jay didn’t bother taking his pants off all the way, instead only tugging them along with his underwear down slightly. His cock was hot and already leaking precum as he looked down at you, at your gorgeous pussy that was covered in a fine mat of downy hair. You stared up at him, seemingly daring him to make his next move.
Jay spit onto his hand and coated his cock in a mixture of saliva and precum. His entire body screamed for him to enter you, ruin you, to fulfill millenia of biological hardwiring. Jay trembled in anticipation as he finally pushed himself inside of you. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. You were so warm, inviting, and silky, like you had been made for him. The small gasp you had made as he had entered you was just perfect.
He thrusted inside of you, overwhelmed by the sensation of your velvety pussy. After another stroke, he realized that his orgasm was already racing through him. 
“No, no,” Jay whispered, pulling out of you, but the friction of your pussy as he slid out of you caused him to spasm. Cum spurted out of him in humiliating globules, landing on your stomach and nightgown. 
Jay hovered over you, his eyes widened with shock. “No. No, no, no. That-that was nothing. That only lasted for, what…”
“A minute,” you replied, your face impassive. 
“A minute,” Jay repeated in horror. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” Jay squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Now everything was ruined. He had come in a pathetically short amount of time. You probably didn’t feel a thing. 
Then he felt warm hands stroke his cheek, and his eyes opened. A small smile had graced your lips, and despite his despair he managed a smile too. 
“Was that your first time?” you asked quietly, tracing his lips with your thumb.
Jay hesitated, but there was no point in lying. “Yeah,” he whispered, “it was. You were.”
You nodded sympathetically. “It’s okay,” you said. 
“It…is?” Jay stared at you in awe.
Then, to his delight, you brought his head down and kissed him softly. It wasn’t rough, not the way his friends had described it- teeth clashing, tongues choking each other, hands wildly groping. This kiss was so gentle, and Jay reciprocated, his hands cupping your face. Your scent tickled his nostrils, filled his mind with a haze. 
Soon, you were licking his bottom lip, so Jay parted his lips. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and he touched it with his, once, twice. He ran his tongue over your teeth, probed into your mouth, sucked on your tongue. He wanted to memorize every inch of you. 
Jay felt one of your hands slip under his shirt, and you ran your hands over his abs. He was proud of the hardened muscle he had worked so hard to cultivate, and he could feel his pride slowly returning. Emboldened, he kissed you even more deeply, and he began to feel your breasts over your nightgown. You weren’t wearing a bra, and he could only imagine how soft they must feel properly in his hands. 
“Take it off,” you whispered against his lips. Jay didn’t need to be told twice. He undressed you slowly this time, helping you push the nightgown over your head. 
Jay groaned under his breath as his eyes flickered over your body. It was amazing. You were like Aphrodite, the Venus of Willendorf, a being designed to be admired. How could he have ever thought of thrusting into you like you were his right hand? “Turn the light on,” he said quietly. 
“Yes, sir,” you said, flicking your standing lamp on. Your body was bathed in the soft, rosy glow, painting you in colours that rivaled the work of the pre-Raphaelites. 
“Don’t call me sir,” he said pleadingly. “Call me Jay, please.” With that, he dipped his head down and kissed your neck softly. You whimpered, and the sound was like the song of an angel. He kissed you all the way down to the space between your breasts. One hand gently fondled one breast, and the other hand held your waist as he kissed the other breast. 
“Lick my nipples,” you whispered. “I like that.”
Jay did as you asked, taking one nipple in his mouth and licking it. The way it hardened was fascinating to him, and he lavished both of your nipples with attention. His hands stroked your waist, up and down, and he could feel you tremble. Jay trailed wet kisses down your stomach, sticking his tongue into your navel to make you laugh. He splayed your arms out on the bed and kissed and licked them. When he got to your hand, he kissed your palm  and your fingertips. Jay lifted your legs up and kissed them from your inner thigh to the backs of your calves to your ankles, all the way to your toes. 
You made these darling little sighs as he kissed you and touched you. “This feels great, Jay,” you sighed out. On occasion, you would tell him to pay special attention to a certain part of yourself; your inner thighs, Jay found, were a sensitive spot. He would frequently return there on his journey around your body and bite and suck at the soft flesh there. 
As Jay gripped your thighs, kissing them, you pulled at his hair so that his face was tugged upwards. 
“I want to teach you something else,” you said, looking him in his eyes. 
“What?” Jay whispered.
As a response, you parted your legs slightly. Jay could see pools of arousal leaking out of your pussy, and his cock stirred. You took your fingers and touched a small, pearly nub of flesh. 
“Do you know what this is?”
Jay had a rough idea, based on the conversations he had had with his friends. “Your clitoris?”
You smiled and nodded. “Yes,” you said, your fingers still threaded through his hair. “I want you to lick it.”
“Lick it?”
“It’ll make me feel good,” you whispered, and you gently pushed his head down between your legs. After one tentative lick, Jay was hooked. You tasted amazing, not quite sweet, not salty, but something else. Something primal and delicious. He laved your clit with his tongue, spreading your legs apart even further. 
For the first time, you moaned, a sound that made its way all the way to Jay’s gut. He kept going, lapping at that little pearl with feverish abandon. Jay pulled away after a while, worried that he was going too fast, being too rough again. “Is this okay?” he asked.
Your voice was tense and high as you said, “Yes, you’re doing amazing, Jay. It feels amazing. Keep going, keep going.”
That encouragement was all Jay needed. One hand firmly split your legs apart, and the other reached up and toyed with your nipples again. He felt you writhe and shiver as he swallowed your arousal, making circles with his tongue around your clit. 
“Jay, Jay, I’m going to, I’m going to…” A series of high-pitched moans passed through your lips and your back arched off of the bed. Jay continued licking your clit until you weakly pushed his head away. Jay stared in awe at your cunt opening and closing on its own, and he inserted a finger inside of you to feel the contractions for himself. He shivered as he imagined his cock in here, but he decided to wait until you weren’t so exhausted. 
Jay dragged himself up the bed so that he was lying beside you, and he affectionately rubbed your stomach. Your face was wet with sweat, lips parted, and your eyes were lidded. Still, that same smile was plastered on your face, and Jay wiped your face with his thumb.
“How was that?” he asked, just to hear you praise him.
“It was great,” you said weakly. “It was…wow. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”
“Top of my classes,” Jay said with a wide grin. You playfully pushed him, and he kissed your cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t…you know… last.”
You shook your head. “It’s okay. It was your first time. No one has a very good first time.”
“Did you?”
“That’s a story for another day,” you said with an eye roll. 
Jay traced your stomach with his hand again, his eyes flickering over you. After a while, he whispered, “Teach me.”
You looked at him. “Teach you…?”
“How to please you. I want you to enjoy it, too. Please?”
You glanced at him, and your eyes were so soft Jay got the sudden urge to cry. “Okay. Come on, sit up.”
Jay sat so that his legs were spread, entrapping you between them. You sat up as well, leaning against the headboard. 
“Your pants…”
“Oh, right.” Jay scrambled to take them off, and his boxers too. His cock flopped out, and he was dismayed to see that it wasn’t completely hard. He glanced at you to gauge your reaction, but your gaze was fixated on his dick. 
“How have you managed to stay a virgin with that?” Your hand rested on his thigh, rubbing up and down.
Jay’s heart swelled with pride. “Oh, well, I’m picky, I suppose. I only like the best of the best.”
You smiled softly, catching the compliment, and then your head bobbed down to his cock. His eyes drank in the sight of your wet little tongue swirling around the tip, your hands massaging his balls. Jay moaned loudly, his arms falling back to hold himself upright. “Oh, will you jack me off, too? Please.”
You obliged him, letting some of your spit trickle down his shaft before massaging it loosely. Jay leaned his head back and moaned loudly. He was so glad you two were in the little servants’ quarters and not the chateau, where the sounds would have echoed. The sloppy noises of your mouth wrapped around his tip and your hands fondling his cock, and his own moans. 
Soon, you were pulling away, and Jay was initially disappointed by the lack of his contact. You wiped your mouth and smiled at him, and his annoyances were forgotten. You shifted backwards so that you were sitting against the headboard again.
“Now,” you whispered, “come here.”
Jay crawled over to you, sitting upright as well. He pulled your legs over his, so that you were straddling him. As he waited for you to keep speaking, he caressed your smooth legs. 
“This time, be slow. You want to feel everything, feel the way I fit around you. Take your time. There’s no rush, Jay.”
He kissed you, then, his hands around your throat. Jay pushed himself inside of you again, this time noting how delicious the stretch was, how your pussy squeezed his cock mercilessly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your lips were still on his. You moaned into each others’ mouths as he bucked his hips against yours. Jay’s hands fell from your neck to your shoulders to your breasts, fondling them slowly. He grew accustomed to this rhythm, of becoming one with you, and it was better than what he could have ever imagined.
Jay gently pulled you on top of him, his back hitting the bed. He thrusted into you slowly, languidly, and you matched his movements. From this position, Jay could swirl his tongue around your nipples again as his hands groped at your ass. He pushed you down on his cock, forcing you to take his full length. Now that your moans were no longer muffled by his lips, they reverberated all over your small room. The air was thick with your scent percolating with Jay’s, your soft moans with his harsh grunts. 
Jay could feel his orgasm approaching, but he resisted the urge to pound into you. Instead, he rolled you over so that he was on top of you again. He pulled out of you and kissed you the way you liked, slowly, tongues meeting, spit dribbling down chins, hot, wet mouths sharing breaths. While you kissed, Jay’s hand worked down your body and he tried to find your clitoris again. Your hand reached out and gently guided him towards your small nub; he rubbed it in steady circles, and he relished in your whimpers. 
“Are you close?” Jay asked before pressing his lips against yours again.
You nodded, unwilling to stop kissing him. 
With that, Jay thrusted inside of you again, his fingers still playing with your clitoris. He felt powerful as he felt your back arch. When he dug his knee up slightly, he could feel your legs begin to tremble. Finally, he let himself go, rutting into you the way he had wanted from the start, his free hand  on your waist. Jay grunted as he approached his high, his eyes shutting in ecstasy. 
You came first, whining his name and clutching him tightly. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and he came with a final, primal grunt, emptying himself in you. 
Jay didn’t want to pull himself out of you. He wanted you to stay full of him, and the way you held him made him think you felt the same way.
Jay kissed your forehead and laid on top of you, stroking your cheek as you came down from your highs together.  The way you nestled your head into his neck made his heart sing, and your scent was even stronger now. He knew that he could never let go of you.
You were his summer girl.
674 notes · View notes
sxcret-garden · 3 months
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Mingi ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]
ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Mingi x gn!reader ღ words: ~3.1k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: none
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A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)
Will do his best to do aftercare for you, but I think it’ll usually be you taking care of him afterwards. He tends to really wear himself out, especially when you’re going at it for a longer time. However, he’ll also usually be in a very cuddly mood afterwards, so after you’ve gotten yourselves some water and cleaned yourselves up, he will welcome you into his arms and hold you tight. Places soft kisses in any spots where he might’ve been rough with you, and will let his fingertips draw mindless patterns all over you. To be honest he could stay like this for hours, but eventually he will either allow the two of you to drift off to sleep, or let yourselves get on with your days.
B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)
The little details! He strikes me as someone who will be fascinated by your shape and definitely takes his time to worship you too, so in general he makes sure you can feel how much he loves your body overall. But he will pay especially much attention to moles, birthmarks, scars, and the likes. Likes to study the placement of each as his hands and lips are mapping out your body, and eventually he will remember their exact spots even when you’re fully dressed.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum)
Really doesn’t mind much where he cums, and strikes me as the type where things might get a little messy. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a favourite place to cum. Loves it when you suck him off and let him cum in your mouth, will visibly gulp at the sight if you swallow. Idk what it is, but he just can’t look away from the image of you taking his load at once - especially if there’s some stains on your lips or chin afterwards.
D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)
A secret desire that keeps popping up in his head is the thought of you sucking him off with his or your friends in the other room. Something about having to keep quiet and at the same time having to hurry so you won’t get caught is just very hot to him, but this is probably something that’s more of a fantasy he has, and not something he absolutely wants to turn into a reality. If it happens - great! If not - also fine by him.
E = Experience (how experienced is he?)
This is a tough one because the answer could literally be anything. What I think is that he’s slow at gathering experience first, and probably the type to exclusively sleep with a partner, because he really needs a certain level of trust to have sex with someone. But I also think he’s actually pretty dirty deep down, and so once he starts getting some experience, he’ll quickly gain some more. So I’d say he has his fair share of experience!
F = Favorite position 
You on top of him! Strikes me as an ass-enjoyer, so depending on his mood he wants you simply riding him while facing him, or facing away in reverse cowgirl. Loves it when you’re on top of him and you set the pace while he can marvel at the sight in front of him and let his hands wander your body. What he also likes about this position is that it’s easy for him to control how much power you have, and if he feels like it he’ll simply grab onto your hips to guide you into the rhythm he wants.
G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)
Shy during his first sexual encounters with a new partner, so he will feel thankful if they’re a light-hearted person and don’t take things too seriously. If you laugh, he will laugh along! But after getting familiar with each other his burning passion will take over and there often won’t be much time to laugh in between fucking each other real good.
H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)
Whether he wants it or not, sexual thoughts will randomly pop up in his head throughout the day. Usually it really is just a thought that floats by and is soon forgotten, but especially when he’s just started getting intimate with someone these thoughts can be rather distracting. Has pretty elaborate fantasies when he gets off by himself, but otherwise keeps it at a level that won’t give him a visible boner in public dksjfklasdjfa
I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)
He can be very romantic!! He’s definitely the type of person to want to just make sweet love to his partner every now and then, and though he can be a bit clumsy, the way he touches you and talks to you during will make your heart soar. He’s so sweet and will take his time with you, exploring your body as if it was the first time, and watching as he has his breath taken away by how beautiful he thinks you are makes you fall in love with him all over again. However, I’m convinced there’s also a not so soft side to him, and when that comes out his touches feel like fire burning your skin. He’s full of need at times like these, in a way where he manages to sweep you off your feet effortlessly.
J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)
Likes to deliberately take time out of his days to get off. Like he will pick a day and then plan for a few hours of “me-time” in the evening and get really into the mood as he lets his hands wander and take care of himself. Might turn on some music and let his mind get to work, might watch porn to get him going, but his favourite thing to accompany his masturbation sessions are voice mails by his partner. Loves simply hearing your voice moaning into his ears as you’re getting off yourself, but he’d also be very curious to try guided masturbation if you’re open to that!
K = Kink (one of his kinks)
I’m gonna go nice and simple with this and say biting! He undoubtedly has a bit of a thing for pain (or maybe more than a bit, who knows…) and so you sinking your teeth into his skin just gets him going. Loves the feeling of the pain mixing in with the pleasure and goes absolutely crazy if you bite down real hard as your own pleasure is overwhelming you. He will let out a pained noise, but don’t be mistaken - he’s totally into this and he could cum from that alone. Will wear your bite marks like a medal and as proof of just how good he can make you feel, but at the same time they serve as a reminder of how good you can make him feel too. He’s more than happy to return the favour if you’re into that too, though he tends to be more careful with his partner than the other way around.
L = Location (favorite places to do it)
The comfort of his or your home is still his nr 1 spot to do it. It’s just where he feels safest to be completely himself and to lose himself in the act, but if the situation is dire he’ll also opt for a less private space. Semi-public is totally okay for him sometimes, and especially when he’s really horny he doesn’t worry about being caught too much. But overall I’d say at home, in the comfort of your or his bedroom is his best choice.
M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)
He’s so easily turned on (and has also become pretty good at hiding it if the time or place aren’t appropriate) that at times it’s enough for him to catch a glimpse of you and his mind will already spew ideas at him about what he wants to do with you. While having sex what especially motivates him to keep going are definitely your moans, but aside from what I wrote about biting earlier, it’s also the way you cling to him desperately, let your nails run down his bare back, etcetc. But it’s also your praises, when you tell him what a good boy he is for you, and sometimes also your teasing, prompting him to do more, to impress you, to earn your touch.
N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Stuff like humiliation and degradation are a bit difficult for him. Being on the receiving end is okay for him, so long as his partner doesn’t take it too far. Will definitely get off on you degrading him a bit at the right time, but if you do it too much this will quickly make him actually feel bad. However, he would never do that to you, he just can’t bring himself to. He can tease you sometimes, that much is fine, but he can’t bring himself to humiliate or degrade his partner. Maybe if you’re super into it he’ll eventually give it a try, but it’s still not his favourite thing to do to you ever.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves both, but prefers receiving head over giving. Definitely the type to grab your hair (if possible) and to control the pace as he fucks your mouth and gets really into it to the point you might feel the need to slow him down a bit. He likes it when things get messy, so if you give him permission he will sometimes pull out just in time to cum all over your face.
Though he prefers receiving, he certainly gets very into it when it’s his turn to do oral on you. Once he gets a literal taste of you he could spend hours just giving you head, and you bet that even if he wasn’t so skilled at first, he’ll know just how to sweep you off your feet in no time.
P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He definitely has his slow and sensual moments where he’s having sex with you less as a way to chase pleasure, and more as a means to make you feel just how much he loves you. However, I think usually when he’s the one setting the pace he’d be impatient and his desire for you would translate into touches on the rougher side. Whether that’s manhandling you a bit and grabbing you with a bit too much force, or if it’s him deliberately sinking his nails into your flesh, he’s INTENSE to say the least. Will fuck you especially rough in the chase of his own orgasm, and if you let him know it’s something that you enjoy as well, he’ll definitely stop holding back completely.
Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)
Quickies are way too short for him, but that doesn’t mean he can resist the temptation. Especially when you two are out somewhere and you keep teasing each other and riling each other up, unnoticed by everyone else in the room, it’s very likely that he will eventually grab you by the wrist and drag you out of there and into a room where you can be by yourselves. The need and the urgency behind the way he gets your clothes out of the way just enough for him to slip inside you is already driving you crazy, and with how desperately he’s racing towards his release while doing everything he can think of to have you reach your high just as fast, there’s really no way either of you is going to last long.
R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)
He’s a bit hesitant with introducing new things to the bedroom, both from his side and if his partner brings up something that they want to try, especially if it’s something he’s not super familiar with. However, after talking it through he’s very likely to be willing to at least try, and a lot of the time when you have an idea on what you could both like, he ends up very much enjoying it. 
He definitely is a risk-taker as in… not always thinking of wearing a condom. He might sulk a bit if you tell him you’re definitely not having unprotected sex with him, but he’ll understand jfkdsfjlajksflsa but also the sight of his cum dripping out of you is just too damn hot to him, and he may or may not feel the need to give you yet another orgasm as your and his taste are mixing on his tongue…
S = Stamina (how long does he last?)
When he really gets into it, he cums fairly quickly, but he recovers just as fast. Will definitely be able to manage his energies to last several rounds, the problem is just that he tends to forget to manage anything when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re both chasing your high jasdkfljsas. But with a bit of assistance and some reminders by you, this guy can definitely keep going for A WHILE.
T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)
Pretty sure he has toys to use on himself for when he’s masturbating, and he also won’t be opposed to sometimes using toys with a partner. Will be all for using vibrators or dildos on you, and might actually get you one he finds pretty and then watches you getting off with it. He also likes seeing you wearing stuff like anal plugs, and goes absolutely crazy if you have piercings down there.
U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)
He’s very straightforward with what he wants and certainly not a big tease about it. Though sometimes it can be fun to push your buttons a little, he enjoys it more if he’s on the receiving end of the teasing. He’ll play along so well if you keep giving him just the bare minimum, and at the same time he will let you know just how frustrated it’s making him. And this can go two ways - either he becomes really whiny and lets you do to him whatever you want, or his patience will eventually run out and he’s going to take matters into his own hands. Depending on how much teasing he’s endured prior, he tends to get very rough with you, and he knows that, so he’ll make sure to talk this through with you beforehand to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want.
V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)
Very vocal and very loud. Though he will die of embarrassment if it turns out anyone heard you two, he couldn’t care less in the moment. Will tell you exactly what he’s thinking at any given point, including praises, what he wishes you would do to him, or what he wants to do to you. And this ranges from begging for you and making the most shameless noises as you’re on top of him, having your way with him, to growling in your ear how much he needs you and how good it feels to be inside of you when he’s taking the lead.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon)
Mingi lets out a desperate groan as he finally releases inside of you, filling you up with his seed. His motions come to a halt, there’s a drop of sweat making its way down his forehead, and his eyes are squeezed shut as he’s trying to catch his breath. You reach out to comb your fingers through his hair, and then eventually he begins to move on top of you. He pulls out as he sits up, spreading your legs that have been wrapped around his waist apart to get a good look at how his cum is dripping out of you slowly. You can hear him mouth a curse word, before he leans in, but then stops himself.
“Can I?” he asks, his face hovering above your core, his hot breath grazing your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. You merely nod, even though you only half expected him to bury his face between your legs, tongue immediately reaching deep into your hole. You cry out at the sensation, and your legs begin to tremble as he hums at the way your taste mixes with his own in his mouth, as he works you right towards your next orgasm. 
X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)
Likes to leave his mark on you anywhere he can reach when he’s in the heat of the moment. Might even forget about being careful around spots where it might be hard to cover, but will move on to a different spot right away if you tell him to. Marking you as his is just something he needs to do every now and then - while he might not be super possessive he does like showing you just who you belong to, and vice versa as well. Will moan instantly when your teeth graze his skin, and the sensation of you marking him is just gonna make him need you even more.
Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
High. Very high actually, but he’s very much content to take care of it himself from time to time too if your sex drive doesn’t match his. I’m convinced that not only is he a very sexual person deep inside, but he’s also pretty dirty-minded, and so it’s only natural that the need for sex would arise quite often - especially when he’s dating someone and he just can’t keep his thoughts about you safe for work. And while this does result in some pretty amazing sex due to the fact that you’re gonna learn about each other’s turn ons very quickly, he’ll also be understanding if you don’t want to have sex quite as often as he does.
Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)
Seems like he’d fall asleep fast but unless he’s super tired to begin with I don’t think so. Quite the opposite actually - you might end up staying up for another hour or two because of him, just talking about whatever comes to mind. In moments like these, after you’ve been intimate, he feels very strongly that he can talk to you even about the things he usually keeps hidden deep inside, so a heartfelt talk afterwards is something that does happen with him from time to time.
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)
Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.
Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.
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You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him. 
You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly. 
König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food. 
You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me? 
He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed. 
He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission. 
— I don’t want to kill you. 
You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch. 
— Are you going to rape me? 
He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this. 
— Nein. Thought I told you already. 
— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you. 
He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time. 
Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one. 
Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible. 
Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked. 
— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask? 
You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable. 
— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed. 
— I won’t kill you. 
— But you will hurt me. 
— I don’t have to do that, Liebling. 
No, he doesn’t. 
But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips. 
König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it? 
— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips. 
You refuse.
A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job. 
Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.
König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned. 
He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift. 
You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja? 
You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base. 
— I…I did. 
He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to. 
You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his. 
His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice. 
He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become. 
König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones. 
— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you. 
— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise. 
— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck. 
— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?
He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him. 
Speaking of legos…
You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him. 
Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that.  He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.
Bu building this insane set with him, that is.
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theia-eos · 2 months
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Elincia Was Not Too Hesitant to Act
I love the Tellius games. I think the writing for the Fire Emblem series as a whole peaked in the Tellius duology. There's a lot of nuance and tiny details and characterizations and depth and layers to every character. However, this does not mean that the games are perfect or beyond criticism.
And one such criticism I have is the message they try to sell in Radiant Dawn Part 2. I am not buying it. Spoilers below the cut.
In Part 2 of Radiant Dawn, we see how being ruler of Crimea is working out for our fair Queen Elincia. The last time we saw her in Path of Radiance, she was filled with self-doubt and worried about her ability to rule as she was never raised to rule and kept secret from the public, so her coronation as queen of Crimea is a big step for her.
Ike stayed on as a member of the royal court for a while, but dips out 6 months prior to the events of Part 2 because he's only causing her more grief than he is providing support now and he goes back to the simple mercenary life he loves.
Bastian has also left her side, citing sightings of the Black Knight returning in Daein and wanting to get a good understanding of Ashnard's "son," the new King Pelleas. He is lying to her, which I'll go into later. So it's only Elincia and the children she was raised alongside, her knights Geoffrey and Lucia, in the courts.
And the nobles do not respect Elincia at all. They disparage her at every chance they get, they blame her for Bastian wanting to go scope out Daein because she lets him go because he tells her, as her advisor, that it's the best idea. They chastise Lucia and Geoffrey for trying to defend her. Generally, you get the idea why Ike had to leave, he probably kept calling them out until he was blue in the face and then some.
Leanne comes looking for Ike, and he's disappeared into the wind, and then Elincia gets word from Nephenne, Brom and Heather from Ohma that one of the nobles, Duke Ludveck, is attempting a coup based on what the recruiter said. Elincia sends Lucia to Ludveck's territory, under the guise of showing Leanne around Crimea's best orchard region, to gather some more information. Lucia finds proof that Ludveck is trying to start a civil war/insurrection, and brings that back to Elincia, who then sends Geoffrey and the Crimean Royal Knights to arrest Ludveck. Elincia privately despairs to Leanne that she never wanted to be queen, she never wanted to deal with these problems, the burden of having to act against her own people is too much for her to bear.
There's some political espionage, Ludveck had a decoy force at his castle and attacks Elincia in her safehouse in Fort Alpea, and Elincia bests Ludveck, captures him, and then says he needs to be executed for treason. Ludveck says she should make him king instead, as she's too indecisive and feeble to be queen, she took too long to stop him plotting under her and that's weakened her authority in Crimea, and to force her hand, he says that he captured Lucia. His forces will execute Lucia unless she releases him and promises to pass her crown to him. Elincia refuses, Lucia is about to be killed but Ike and the Greil Mercenaries swoop in to save the day to save Lucia. Elincia resolves to be more decisive in the future.
So what is my problem with this plot? Well, let's review the chapter count of Part 2, it's very short.
Prologue - Elincia finds Begnion wyvern riders attempting to capture Leanne and intervenes immediately
Chapter 1 - Nephenne, Brom, and new recruit Heather fight their way out of Ohma to warn Elincia directly
Chapter 2 - Elincia sends Lucia to find solid evidence that Ludveck is a traitor
Chapter 3 - Lucia comes back with proof and Elincia sends Geoffrey to arrest Ludveck
Final Chapter - Elincia fights Ludveck
Please tell me where Elincia was indecisive, failed to take action, dwadled, or let the insurrection just grow. As soon as she finds out that it's happening she goes to get evidence, and then as soon as she has the evidence, she orders for Ludveck to be arrested. She immediately refuses to hand Ludveck the throne.
Ludveck: So I take it you understand everything now? And considering Lady Lucia’s life is on the line, you haven’t much choice. Now, let’s have you free me from this prison cell, and then we can discuss any further details… Elincia: I don’t think so. Radiant Dawn, Chapter 2-F, Elincia's Gambit Extended Script Translation from Serenes Forest
No hesitation. None. Even in the prologue where she fights and kills Begnion forces intruding on her home, trying to enslave Leanne, no hesitation.
Elincia: Begnion dracoknights… You will only be warned once. Leave this area immediately! I serve the queen of Crimea. Trespassers on Crimean territory will be dealt with. No exceptions. Zeffren: The queen, she says! The very queen that relied on us, the Begnion Empire, to free her nation. Imperial dracoknights are not frightened by soldiers so weak as Crimean pegasus knights. Listen up! Leave those two alone. It’s the Serenes maiden we want. Do not allow her to escape! Elincia: …Looks like we’ll not talk any sense into them. I suppose we have no choice. Sir Nealuchi! We’re here to help you! [Elincia attacks Zeffren] Zeffren: You… You Crimeans seriously believe you can withstand the might of Begnion?! Elincia: Crimea takes this sort of encroachment seriously. We will not overlook invaders in our domain. Release your weapons, and apologize for your discourtesy… Only then will we lower our own. Zeffren: You have quite a mouth on you… I won’t be addressed in that tone by anyone. It’s time to end this farce. Radiant Dawn, Chatper 2-P, On Drifting Clouds
Like yes, she offers diplomacy and a chance for them to stand down, but the story and Ludveck would have you believe that she's so crippled by hesitation that she wouldn't take action. Ludveck says "you were too hesitant and too concerned about harming the people" in stopping the civil war decisively to be a strong ruler.
What the hell else was she supposed to do? Elincia never caught wind of the rebellion until the beginning of Chapter 2, and then what was she supposed to do? Take the word of three villagers that there was some random unknown man they didn't even bring in with them recruiting for a rebellion for Duke Ludveck? Like I love Nephenne, Brom, and Heather as much as anyone else, but if she had just arrested and executed Ludveck based on that information she'd be a tyrant, the other nobles would never trust her and could possibly turn against her too. Getting proof was not a sign of hesitation. Sure, she says she'd like to attempt diplomacy first instead of immediately resorting to the sword, but as soon as she says that, a soldier runs in and says Ludveck is preparing to attack and Elincia realizes the time for negotiation is over and authorizes an immediate attack.
Lucia: As we suspected, Lord Ludveck is intent on rebellion. His followers are spread across the land, inciting insurrection. We have the documents to prove it. Geoffrey: Queen Elincia, I stand ready to defend the realm! I will lead the Royal Knights into Felirae, and we will seize the duke! Elincia: I am hesitant to resort to the sword without at least attempting diplomacy. At all costs, I must stop the people of Crimea from fighting one another. [A Crimean soldier rushes in] Crimean Soldier: Your Majesty! News from the countryside! Duke Ludveck has assembled an army and announced his intentions against you! The rebellion in Felirae is growing quickly! Elincia: I see… Lucia: He must have realized that his operations were no longer a secret. Your Majesty, we have no time to waste. We must stand against this, for the future of Crimea! Elincia: …I understand. Geoffrey, leader of the Royal Knights… I hereby authorize the use of military force against the rebel army! Geoffrey: Yes, Your Majesty. At once! Radiant Dawn, Chapter 2-2, Tides of Intrigue
Does a few seconds warrant Ludveck's criticisms? Is that a failure of Elincia, for taking a moment to say she wants to try diplomacy first?
Ludveck: Exactly, Your Majesty. If you truly had the power to quell the civil war… As long as I could affirm that, even if I were executed as a traitor, I would have no regrets. But, no, you were too hesitant and too concerned about harming the people… Now look what has happened. Radiant Dawn, Chapter 2-F, Elincia's Gambit Extended Script Translation from Serenes Forest
No, the real reason it took Elincia so long to act is because Bastian, Lucia and Geoffrey failed in their roles for her. All three of them had known that this was underway for a while.
Elincia: I see… So, that’s what’s going on. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I’m very sorry your village was affected by this. You have my sincere apologies. Brom: Oh, no, Your Majesty. We don’t need no apology. We’re just happy we could help. Geoffrey: Lucia… Brom’s story confirms what we’ve suspected all along. Lucia: Yes, as we thought. Duke Ludveck of Felirae is firing up a rebellion. We should have seen it coming. To be honest, Queen Elincia, there have been a number of indications that something like this was under way. We’d hoped to uncover something more tangible than hushed rumors… I should have told you sooner. Radiant Dawn, Chapter 2-2, Tides of Intrigue
They've suspected it. They've known it. They're not surprised when the Ohma villagers tell Elincia about it, which is the first time she ever hears of this going on. Lucia apologizes for keeping it from Elincia because she was waiting for more proof. If Elincia had known about this sooner, she could have acted sooner. She would have acted sooner, by how she immediately sends Lucia to gather evidence.
But worst of all is Bastian. Bastian not only knows that this is happening, he is so certain his absence would set things into motion that he hires Ike and the Greil Mercenaries to step in and assist at the last minute if things go as he expected. Does he warn Elincia of what might happen while he was gone? No. Not only that, but Bastian isn't even going to Daein to see if the new king is going to be friendly to them. He's going to Daein to get Izuka to force Izuka to cure Renning, even though Bastian has known all along for years that the herons could have cured Renning. Why does he go this route?
[エリンシア] ユリシーズ、あなたは いままでどこにいたのです?▼ 突然、連絡を絶ってしまって… とても心配していたのですよ。▼ [ユリシーズ] デインにて…… 長く探っていた”鍵”にめぐり合いまして。▼ それ故、表より姿を消し、 策謀を巡らしておりました。 全てはクリミアの未来のために……▼ Radiant Dawn, Chapter 4-5, Unforgivable Sin Extended Script
In the Extended Scripts (JP Only script locked to Hard/Manic Modes), Bastian explains that he is looking for a "key" to Crimea's future in Daein while working in secret, which is later revealed to be that he wants Izuka, former advisor of King Pelleas of Daein, cure Renning. This despite the fact that he could go to the herons the entire time, and eventually winds up going to the herons in the end anyway. While never talking to Elincia about any of this. The only justification for this is that Bastian is in love with Renning and Bastian is worried that Renning will die if he is cured through heron galdr, as Rajaion did, and Bastian's emotions get in the way of his reason. The best and most charitable explanation I can give Bastian saying that Renning is the key to Crimea's future, to the point he's left Elincia alone since before Part 2 begins when she really could have used his help, is that he hopes that Renning's support will make Elincia's rule more stable, but it's never explained why Bastian believes Renning is the key to the future or why Bastian doesn't go straight to the herons, so your guess is as good as mine.
But that still doesn't excuse the fact that he hires mercenaries to rescue Elincia without ever warning Elincia himself. He either doesn't believe in her himself, which him saying that Renning is the future of Crimea kind of hints towards, or he is just leaving the the queen of the country in the dark because he thought his plan was best. Either way, unforgivable.
None of Elincia's most trusted people, the people she relies on for advice and counsel, gives her a single hint of a warning of the information they have, even if it is only rumors. Elincia should have been told.
Is Elincia young and naïve? Yes. Ludveck's criticisms that she's too trusting, that it is too easy to assassinate her, or poison her food or drink are 100% valid. I'll even agree with his point about her letting the fleeing rebels leave after she captures Ludveck in the final chapter, they absolutely should be arrested and punished for treason. Maybe not killed, but punished.
But that she is too hesitant to act to quell the rebellion? No. Bastian, Geoffrey, and Lucia keep vital information from Elincia. That the civil war gets so far is on them, not Elincia. Elincia always takes the correct next step for her based on what she knows and what they know after finding out about it. Now, for all Ludveck knows, Bastian and the others found out and told Elincia from the start and the inaction was on Elincia, because why wouldn't they keep the queen informed, so he can say what he believes to be true. But the fact that Elincia believes him, the fact that no one calls out the three of them for what they did wrong, is a failure of the writing.
Elincia: Yes, that’s true. It’s for the same reason that, once I knew of the rebels’ movements… I didn’t immediately make any decisive orders. Radiant Dawn, Chapter 2-F, Elincia's Gambit Extended Script Translation from Serenes Forest
If they wanted me to believe that message, they would have needed to add another chapter into Part 2, not that Radiant Dawn needs to be any longer, ideally making Chapter 3 deal with her attempting diplomacy and hesitating to act (maybe they set up a place to talk that gets attacked and she still doesn't authorize an attack on Ludveck), and then Chapter 4 being Geoffrey's Charge when Ludveck mobilizes his army.
However, as it stands, Elincia hesitating to take action is completely absurd.
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nina-ya · 6 months
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Patching up Sanjis Wounds
Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: Blood mentions, light wound descriptions, Sanji being a little flirty shit as usual. WC: 756
The chances that the love cook would take a huge hit for you and leave you to be the one to patch him up are high, and unfortunately this exact scenario just unfolded. Sanji is currently sprawled out in front of you after taking a major hit for you, bleeding from every place imaginable. The bleeding from his nose is most likely from the fact that you’re currently compressing some of the cuts on his chest so they can clot and those lovesick eyes he is directing towards you is practically confirming your suspicions. “Why did you do that?! Do you know how reckless that was?!” You practically yell at him as you scramble to help him. “I always help a lady in need, especially you~” he slurs out. You can’t tell if he’s love drunk or has lost too much blood based on the way he’s speaking. You roll your eyes at his response and start unbuttoning his shirt to take a better look at his wounds. He seems to light up at your touch. “Mademoiselle, I didn’t think this would be how our first time would go. I imagined preparing a lovely dinner fir-“ You groan loudly. “Sanji! With all due respect, this is not what you think it is. Get your mind out of the gutter and tell me where it hurts.”
He pouts when you shoot his advances down. “It hurts right here,” he says, guiding your your hand over his heart. Before you scold him again for his flirtation at this inappropriate time, you see the deep red that has enveloped his chest and you gasp softly. Sanji's injury is much worse than you initially thought, and the sight of the deep red seeping from his chest was enough to fill you with concern. You hold back your frustration and focus on the task at hand. "Sanji, where else does it hurt?" He winces and lets out a heavy sigh, his usual confident demeanor momentarily fading as he admits, "Everywhere, honestly." You fight back the pang of frustration and set your focus on treating him. "Alright, let's get you patched up. But seriously, Sanji, no more of your romantic fantasies right now. We need to stop this bleeding." As you work to remove his blood-soaked shirt, Sanji can't help but show his appreciation, although his pain is clear. "You have the gentle touch of an angel, ma belle." You can't help but let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "Sanji, I'm trying to save your life here, not audition for a romance play." He manages a weak smile amidst his discomfort. "Sorry, it's just hard not to admire your beauty, even in the midst of all this." You smile slightly and focus on cleaning his wounds, and begin to wrap up some of the deeper gashes. Sanji winces and grits his teeth, but he doesn't complain about the pain. He seems to understand the gravity of the situation, and it has sobered him up, for the most part. “You know this was stupid, right?” You mutter softly, your voice filled with care. “Nothing is stupid when it comes to you.” he retorts. You let out a sigh. “Sanji, this was very stupid. If you had gotten more hurt than this, if you had… if you had died, I…” you trail off, suddenly becoming emotional. Your lip quivers as you try to focus on holding back tears so you can help him. Sanji sees your distress and lightly grabs your hand. “I will not die, not any time soon at least. I need to at least get a kiss from you before I can say I have lived a satisfied life.” You sniffle, your emotions still raw, but you manage a small laugh in response. “Yeah, well, I don't think ill be satisfied with just a kiss.” Sanjis' blue eyes sparkle with longing and a grin spreads across his face. “Oh? Do tell what it is you had in mind.” He says cheekily. Your laughter fills the air and affection floods your voice. “Hey, lets get you to Chopper first, okay?” You say, finalizing the wrapping of the wounds. “But for now, I will leave you with this.” Leaning in, you press a kiss to his lips. Its a tender and affectionate kiss, conveying all the emotions you had been suppressing: relief, gratitude, and an undeniable connection between you two. Sanjis' Lips were warm and warm and welcoming, and for that moment, you can forget about the chaos of the world around you two.
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darlingmbappe · 1 year
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When We’re Ready [1] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader
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[Part One] [Part Two]
Summary: Kylian's blatant desire for a baby has your head spinning. Though, you must say, he is quite convincing...
Warnings: SMUT! Minors, go away. Penatrative sex, oral (female receiving), groping (semi-public), breeding kink, cussing, horny mfs, kinda cringe and cheesy but I stand by it. Let me know if I missed anything! – English is not my first language. –
Masterlist
Kylian was easy to read. His expressive face always gave him away; scrunching and elongating against his will. Even when he was meant to hide his true feelings in certain situations, there was always a little twinge of the eyebrow or crook of the lip to let you know exactly what he was thinking.
Maybe you just knew him too well, spent too much time with his elastic face to pick up on the micro expressions that made it possible to know his mood at any time. But, something was different about tonight. Cheeky? Yes. Pensive? For sure. Annoyed? Maybe… It was hard to say with the way he stared at you from the bed. One hand propping up his heavy head while he watched you intently putting lotion on. 
This expression was new.
“Babe?” You call, rubbing together the leftover lotion on your hands, sitting in front of him on the bed. “You okay?”
“Mhm.” He hums, still seeming out of it as he shifts and stares at the TV now, though it only reflects a dark image of himself back at him, seeing as it wasn’t even turned on.
You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t buy it. Something’s on your mind.” You take your rings and earrings off, setting them in your jewelry catcher by your nightstand. Kylian stayed quiet as you got under the covers, drawing his attention back to you.
When he didn’t give you any sort of answer, you had no choice but to scroll on your phone in an attempt to ignore the burning stare that came from your husband's side of the bed. Eventually, it was impossible to pretend you didn’t feel his eyes dead set on your face. You shut your cell off and set your phone on your stomach, looking directly at him, your sudden view shift taking him by surprise. “Okay, seriously. What?”
“Nothing.” You catch a smirk barely grazing his lips before he just shakes his head, turning and switching off his bedside lamp, cozying up under the duvet. “Don’t worry about it.”
You huff and sneer at his answer, shutting off your lamp as well, curling up with an obvious annoyance at the lack of information. “He thinks I'm not gonna worry about it.” You mumble to yourself passive aggressively, your back turned to him. “You’re being weird. I don’t like it.”
“I'm not being weird.”
“Are too.”
Kylian stared at the back of your head, quiet as he slowly reached for your waist, effectively pulling your body up against his to share his warmth.
“Oh, so now you wanna cuddle?” You grumble, settling in comfortably despite the bite that laced your words.
He kissed your hair, lost in his own racing mind, not fully convinced he should bring this up to you tonight. Your annoyance was surface level, nothing he was deeply concerned about because he felt the way you relaxed against his own muscles, letting his arms act as your blanket. 
He was sure that the thoughts that persist in his skull had crossed your mind as well. As he lay there with you, the love of his life, he let his brain think without hesitation; no if’s or but’s, no playing devil's advocate with himself. He let himself indulge in the future fantasy that he had dreamed of since he was a small boy. He felt lucky he had you in all of his delusions, always right there with him. You’re around in every scenario he makes up; ever present, making you laugh, making you swoon. He feels so lucky that you stand with him in the tangible world as well, looking better than anything he comes up with in his mind. Saying funnier things, sweeter things.
As your breathing stables, he’s not sure if you’re fully asleep yet, or how long the silence has even run for. His throat would close at the words when you were awake and responsive, but now that he couldn’t tell, it was easier to whisper them to your sleeping figure – nothing holding him back from telling you his little secret.
“Let’s have a baby.”
His voice could have been mistaken as a sigh as he breathed the words gently into your ear… but you heard them.
Your eyes shot open wide, the air becomes harder to take in your lungs at the shock, laying still in his arms. Slowly, you lift your head and stare back at him. He feels just as shocked upon seeing that you’re actually awake, gulping at the confession he let slip. 
He knew you wanted kids, just like he did. You’ve been married just about four months and had previously talked about waiting two years or so to start a family. The pair of you agreed stability in the home was necessary before bringing a child into it – which was fair enough – but his baby fever was deadly. There wasn't anything he could do to keep away the images of little toes, and bassinets, and rolls on their tummy, and dimples on their legs and… just everything. He wanted to see them grow up. He wanted to debate you on who they got it from. He was prepared to do anything for that baby, and the baby itself is just a thought. A sweet little figment of his imagination… but they already had your eyes.
“Did I hear you right?” You sleepily mumble, feeling his grip on you grow tighter and his heartbeat quickening just a smidge.
He kisses your sleepy cheek, resting his face against yours as his arms wrap more securely around you. “Oui, mon coeur. I want a baby with you.” He repeated, voice still soft.
“You think now is a good time for us?”
“Mm…” He ponders a moment. “I think so.”
“Is this what you were thinking about?”
He kisses your shoulder. “Yeah. Been thinking it for a while.”
“A while…”
“A month or two.” Kylian shrugs like it's casual… like it hasn't completely taken over his brain from the second he saw you walk down the aisle. “Imagine our little family. Just the three of us." He lets the silence marinate, unsure of whether or not you've fallen asleep on him. "Don't you think?" He squeezes you gently, needing to keep this conversation going now that it's started.
You burrow your back into him to let him know you're still lucid. "Yeah. Just the three of us... but... is now the time to bring a baby into the world?"
His sigh sounds defeated, tickling your face. “You don’t think it is…”
“I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about it.” You admit, looking at him once more. His eyebrows furrow and now you can read him clearly. 
The overthinking face. 
Despite being confident in himself and his actions in pretty much every aspect of his life, Kylian is a chronic overthinker. He’ll let his thoughts drag him into a darker place. He begins to question little comments or actions that he wouldn’t have thought twice about if the little voice in his head would just leave him alone. The crease between his eyebrows tilt upward, his tongue finds his top row of teeth, his stare points away to a still object that will allow him to daze off into the flying spiral of introspection. 
You tap your finger on his chin to get him to look back at you so you could ground him. “I have thought about it. A lot. Just not so much recently…” You say, not only doing damage control on your last comment, but a true statement on the topic of family that you’re interested in exploring further. “With the wedding, moving, family stuff, you know. Everything’s a little jumbled right now.”
The gears turn in his head and he purses his lips. “No, I get it.” He sighs deeply. “I guess you’re right.” You turn in his arms, now curled into his chest. He kisses your forehead before resting his chin on it, engulfing your body completely in his. “But, maybe two years is a little long to wait.”
“Yeah, I agree. Who knows if we’ll even still be together by then.” You grin mischievously into his skin and feel the vibration of his deep chuckle from your obvious joke.
“Shut up.” 
You move your head so you could look at him, pressing a kiss to his chapped and upturned lips. “Let’s give it until the end of the summer. That’s like, what, three months? If we both feel like the time is right, then we start trying, For real.”
He closes his eyes to feel your presence in his, content enough with the compromise. Isn’t that what marriage is all about, anyway? 
He wiggles his eyebrows. “You up for a little practice?”
“Practice?”
He rubs a firm hand down your back, letting it rest lower than it was before. “Just a little refresher…”
You caught on, rolling your eyes as he pulls away to gauge your reaction to his suggestion. 
“Ky, if anything, you’re a little over-practiced in that department.”
“No such thing, baby. Take it from me, I’m an athlete.” He smirks cheekily, letting only one finger run against your skin, tracing where the hem of your tank top had been resting on your hip. He dipped it lower and pulled up at the waistband of your underwear, letting it snap back gently, stinging only slightly but your sleepy state caused you to feel it ripple through you like he had whipped you.
“Hm…” You were sleepy, sure… but Kylian dipped his face into your neck. His lips could not have been more supple against your skin. The open mouth kisses he placed were gentle, soft, beyond seductive. Your eyes shut against your will at the feeling, his large palm flat against your side and moving up under the material that separated his bare chest from yours, tongue prodding out just slightly to taste your skin. “... I guess we can practice. Just a little…”
That night changed everything for you. 
You see babies everywhere now, it’s like the population multiplied overnight. There was nothing that could stop you from cooing at their tiny socks and chubby ankles, the sound of their giggle echoing through the grocery store, their innocent little smiles when they looked at their mommy or daddy… God, does everyone have a damn baby but you?
The months went on and the late summer sun was hotter than it had ever been. At least for as long as you’d lived in Paris. You could barely walk outside for the mail without sweating and needing a shower. You verbally thanked the heavens you weren't pregnant right now, not being able to imagine carrying a human inside of you with all of this heat. Kylian brushed it off, still holding out hope for a new addition to the Mbappe household. 
Kylain might be an extremely intelligent man, but, boy… subtlety is not his strong suit. It started with him leaving open baby magazines on the kitchen counter, flipped to the cutest, smallest, chunkiest little one they had on print. He’d send you baby TikTok videos with a message that read “do you like this color for the living room walls?” 
In his defense, he was never trying to be subtle. He continued to think about what you said that night he first mentioned trying, and he still thinks that bringing a baby into the mix is right for you two. He tried to chop it down to his social media algorithm sabotaging him with constant baby content or maybe the honeymoon phase after the wedding had him feeling this strongly, but those explanations just didn’t feel right. After knowing you for six years and getting to love you for almost all of that time, he was eager to create a family with you right in the center of it. 
The baby discussion had made a sharp turn at some point this last month. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it all went from questioning every aspect of your life together and reasoning with one another about very serious doubts and scenarios, to unhinged conversations about things that just caused you to giggle. Things like: where the pair of you would bring your newborn on their first vacation, what their first word would be, if they’d follow in Kylians footsteps, how much money the tooth fairy would give them for their first lost tooth.
It’s safe to say, you finally came to the silent conclusion that you were ready – but that realization couldn't have come at a more awkward time.
Dinner with his whole side of the family was a blessing for you both. It wasn’t very often that every schedule cleared up in the same time frame. A large restaurant section was rented out in the heart of Paris for family and friends to get together. It was a nice time to make conversation and catch up on everything life had churned out since the last time you’d seen each other. The appetizers were spectacular, the drinks were doing their job, it was all so nice…
… Except that nothing – yes, nothing – is more awkward than being unstoppably horny for your husband in front of his entire family. You cut yourself off after martini number three when you noticed it was turning your brain into goo. The buzz wasn't enough to make you drool and incoherent, but seeing your Kylian playing with his niece and nephew, picking them up and turning them upside down, pressing affectionate smooches to their bulbous cheeks… drooling and incherency was not far behind. 
He was going to be such a good dad. He was already the most caring husband, even with all of his responsibilities and commitments. He found time for you in every sliver of open space in his schedule, needing to soak up quality time with his wife as if it were as necessary as air. 
The entrées began to come out as everyone took their respective seats. Kylian was still oblivious to the googly eyes you’d been throwing in his direction all night, but it wasn’t long after he sat down that he caught on. 
He leans over to whisper to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I know that look. Very well.”
You shudder at his breath tickling your skin. Flustered beyond belief, you could only manage to shake your head, letting out a shy and breathy laugh.
Kylian bit his lip and snickered along with you, setting his hand on your knee and faces forward. His touch was hot. A skillet off of the stove would have sent the same wave of heat all the way up your limbs. You reach for the water on the table, positive that the fierce blush overtaking your face would be obvious to anyone who decided to look at you in your current state. His long fingers began moving against your knee, tracing mindless patterns that only sent you more goosebumps. He knew that every gentle touch or fragment of affection he would give you right now would be heightened tenfold… he loved knowing that you were putty in his hands. He knew your mind – and right now, he had completely taken over it.
“Feeling okay, mon amour?” The sly smirk on his face gave him away. He was just teasing you, and Lord, does he love teasing. His hand moves upward to your midthigh, stopping and moving his thumb up and down above your dress, crinkling the material. “You’re looking a little flushed.”
You’d been avoiding eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your needy gaze. “Kylian, stop it. Your mom’s sitting right there.” You reprimand in a soft voice, not wanting to raise any attention to the pair of you up to nothing decent.
“I’m not doing anything.” He chuckles, moving his hand a little higher. You suck in a sharp breath as he leans into your ear again. “Won’t you look at me, bébé?” 
You shake your head no, feeling quite shy as your throat dries up. You clear your throat discreetly and reach for the cold water once more, but Kylians hand grabs your palm, bringing it to his lips. “Let me see those eyes, baby.” He mumbled against your hand. His back was turned to the rest of the table, acting as a human curtain for your obvious discomposure.
You roll your eyes before looking at him. You tried your best to give him a scolding look, but the second you saw that same glimmer in his eye that matched yours, your current sensitivities doubled down. The pace of your heart heightened quickly, the warmth in your cheeks increasing by the second.
You felt like leaning in to kiss his lips. He licked them right when he took a quick glance at your own, your hand still taken in his.
“Your eggplant parmesan, madame.” You didn’t even see the waiters bringing out the entrées being too engrossed in Kylian's burning stare. You smile up and thank her then look around the table. You’d forgotten that there were other people there for a second, much less his family. His mom, dad, nieces, nephews, aunties – distant or otherwise… You had to pull yourself together before they caught on to your overly horny demeanor. 
Kylian took his hand off your thigh when his chicken alfredo was placed in front of him, noticing how you sat up straighter. For now, he’d let you do your best to make regular conversation with his cousins that sat across from the both of you, but he noticed how tightly your legs were crossed together. He saw your eyes dart away from his whenever you turned his way. When he brushed your pinky on the table before engulfing your hand, you took in a sharp breath. So sensitive. 
He nodded toward your empty plate. “Feel like turning in early, mon coeur?”
You raised a brow at him. “Ky, you sure? Your whole family’s here. Don’t you wanna stay a little longer?”
He shrugs. “We’ve been mingling for like,” he looks at his watch, “almost three hours. Besides, I’m quite a bit distracted tonight.” He peeks down at your cleavage, darting his tongue out to wet his lips. “I think I wanna take you home.”
You shudder when he leans in and kisses the corner of your lips. To anyone watching, it’s a sweet gesture of affection, but to you… it was erotic. Sensual. It made you tighten your thighs even more.
His attention is taken back to the others at the table, letting them know that the two of you would be leaving a little early, blaming it on his morning training schedule. You two made your rounds to every seat, kissing cheeks and rubbing shoulders, making sure you left a good impression with each and every one of the members of the group. 
He opened the car door for you, grabbing your hand to help you in, kissing your knuckles before hopping in the driver's seat. He weaved through traffic with a sure hand on your upper thigh, slowly and subconsciously getting higher and higher. 
It’s unfair that he holds all the power right now – making you sweat and need him with every purposeful tap on your skin. The pads of his fingers migrated downward over your dress until it reached the hem of the frilly garment. His eyes were fixed on the red light in front of him as he let his hand travel under your dress – the simple skin to skin enough to invade you with goosebumps – feeling each and every one on the trail he formed toward your panties, toying with the band wrapped around your hip.  
You didn’t even mean to swivel your hips closer to his hand, but when his forefinger traveled lightly to feel your slit over the elastic material, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Ky…” You whined as he wiggled his digit against you. 
You look over to see his smirk facing forward, practically visualizing his ego growing at just your involuntary mewl. Looking at his lap, you saw the trace of his member was much too prominent to assume your neediness wasn’t affecting him. You reached over and took hold of it, gripping with a single squeeze that had his breath shake in surprise. 
“Merde, cherie…” He hissed, taking sporadic peeks down at your hand as it rubbed him through the layer of cloth. It wasn’t responsible to grope him while he was behind the wheel, but the standstill traffic and ultra tinted windows lent you enough feelings of safety to continue your motions. You felt him getting harder as you pumped your fist as best you could over his stiff zipper. 
Half his mind wanted to ask you to wait until you got home so he could shove you between him and the wall, feel, kiss, bite, lick every centimeter he saw… but how could he? Your fluttering lashes made him forget how to speak coherently. He just couldn’t resist you. 
His personal fucking kryptonite. 
There you both sat, hands on each other's most intimate parts in the center of traffic. It was kind of exciting that the people on the same road had no idea what was going on. That the thick steel doors and blackened windows were the only thing keeping them from seeing you throw your head back when he pressed on your clit. That they were oblivious to the sweet sounds that bubbled up from Kylians chest as you ran your knuckles over his tip, the hand that wasn’t lost under your otherwise innocent dress gripping the steering wheel so, so tightly. 
Kylian took a quick and sharp left, finally away from the traffic going down the last road until you reached your private residence. His foot pressed all the way down on the pedal, impatiently rolling the stop signs. In any other scenario, it would make you nervous, but you truly didn't even notice the way he broke traffic laws once he had removed his hand in the urgency of it all. 
You unbuckled as he drove down the last couple of blocks, leaning over the center console to attack his open neck, surely leaving a big purple bruise in your wake. Your hand wrapped around his face, pressing him further into you. He grunted and closed his eyes as soon as he put the car in park inside the garage, wasting no time grabbing for your leg so you could straddle him in the tall SUV. 
Kylian hiked your dress up with his hand firmly placed on the globe of your ass, squeezing your flesh harshly as you grinded down onto him. With his lips now on your own, all the sounds of pleasure were muffled and smothered.  
“J'ai tellement besoin de toi, putain.” I need you so fucking bad. His hands roamed higher around your waist as he got access to your neck.
“J'ai besoin que tu mettes un bébé en moi. C'est si dur.” I need you to put a baby in me. So bad. When you say these words, you feel him stiffen. His hands cease their movements, now only gripping you in place as he leans his head back to look at your face. He needed to see if you were joking or not. Breathless and completely earnest, you stare into his wide eyes, feeling the way the mood changed with just a single phrase. 
He hints at a smile. “You’re serious?”
You nod, kissing the tip of his nose, brushing your thumb dearly on his cheekbone. “So serious.”
He grins happily, pure excitement behind his eyes as he rubs your back with an incredible gentleness. He’s overtaken with fondness as he leans in to kiss you again. He smiles into it, letting out a joyous giggle when he hugs you tightly.
He barely pulls back. “Let’s get you inside. My beautiful wife.”
He couldn’t keep his hands off of you as he hugs you down the hallway toward the master bedroom, taking small detours when he simply couldn't help himself; grasping your neck to kiss you lovingly, slowing down to press you against his front and whisper sweet things in your ear. 
You half expected him to throw you on the bed, rip your dress off, and take you like it was an animalistic instinct. By his conduct in the restaurant and in the car, you’d expect nothing less than a rough and primal fuck. 
But, no. He walked you backward toward the bed, only staring into your eyes adoringly as he lifted you up to lay your head down on the pillow comfortably. 
He kissed you once before just looking at you on the mattress, knees turned in and pathetic little squirm demanding its way through your limbs. Your pretty purple dress was now wrinkled and twisted, halfway up your thigh, straps hanging loosely off your shoulder.
He beamed, deciding to sit on his knees with you in between him as he began undoing his white dress shirt, button by button, eyes never leaving yours. Your grabby hands untucked the material from his pants, matching his slower pace as you undid the buckle of his belt.
Once his shirt just hung on his shoulders, he placed two warm hands on your legs, allowing them to wander up and up, the material of your dress all scrunched up in their path. He unveiled your body to his hungry eyes, tapping the side of your ribs so you’d sit up and let him take it off of you completely. You both giggled softly when it finally went over your face, disheveling your hair in the process. Kylian brushed it all away from your features, grabbing your face sweetly and laying you back down, noses only an inch away as he balanced his body on top of yours.
“Mon amour.” He mumbled adoringly, brushing his nose with yours, grazing your lips slightly. “We’re really doing this.”
You just smile, pecking the cheesy wide grin that had taken over his features. “We’re ready.” You confirm, wrapping both your arms around his neck. 
He slowly made his way down your body, inch by inch, kiss by kiss. His tongue made soft and swift circles on your left nipple, your other being pinched and soothed by his strong fingers. As he ventured further, he placed his palms firmly on your tummy, kissing it so tenderly, as if to prepare a space for his future baby. Blessing it’s temporary home before they even had the chance to get there.
“You’re going to look so pretty when I get you pregnant.” The words were strangled between the emotions in his voice and the ringing in your own ears; the pressure of his lowering hands making your head spin. 
He tossed his shirt aside along with his pants when he reached your underwear, placing himself with purpose as he began pulling down the lacy garment. He hummed delightedly when a string of your slick clung onto the material. You showcased your pussy to him like he paid for it, jutting your hips toward him with pure need. 
“You’re so fucking wet.” He murmured as he ran a finger through your folds, just to tease, perceptive to the shiver that formed a sweet noise from your chest.
Without needing further instruction, he kitten licked your clit, gently sucking on it now and then. You turned your head into the silk pillow, letting it catch most of the crude noises you were making for the man between your legs. With his arms securely wrapped around your thighs, he pressed his face further into your core, shaking his head back and forth before adding two fingers. 
“God – fuck, Ky.” The abstruse praises spewed out of you when he curled his long, long fingers up, pumping them as they hooked inside your rigid walls. 
He pulled them out too quickly for your liking, taking his magic tongue with him as he stared down at your pussy. He stretched your skin apart with his thumbs, playing with you for his own visual gratification before slowly inserting three fingers inside at once. He watched them intently disappear into you, then quickly looking at your face that twisted in delight as he stretched you open – preparing you for his thick member. 
You wailed in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white. “Oh my god, Kylian.” How he loved hearing you moan out his name. It only made him need you more, staring up at you dotingly past your stomach. “Please, baby… I need you.” You begged.
His fingers slow down before leaving you bare. He watched your empty pulsing hole for only a second, licking his fingers clean as he shuffled around to be on top of you once more. 
He hovered over you, staring deeply into your eyes. You sighed in contentment at his gazing, allowing one of your hands to go astray to lower his boxer briefs over his ass, pulling down the front as well. You took hold of his thick and hard cock, pumping it while keeping eye contact with your lover. It was so beautiful to observe the tiny fragments of expressions that waved over his face. The microscopic twinges of his eyelids, the slight curve that forms between his eyebrow, the gentle pursing of his lips. 
You tugged him to your opening, running his dick along your soaked lips, lubricating it as you began to try and prod yourself open with him. Just the feeling of his tip beginning to enter your tight pussy had him shuddering. Kylian met your hand, helping it guide his cock to your entrance, slowly inserting his desperate mushroomhead.
He moved slightly, watching your expression for discomfort. “You’re so tight.” He huffed. Your hand stayed on his base, his small and paced movements still only to stretch you out for him. He felt the pads of your fingers as he shallowly pushed in and out of you.
“Faster.” You demanded, moving your hands to his ass to follow his movements. 
He complied, heavy breathing fanning your face, his pace increasing, stuffing more of himself inside of you. Kylians eyes were shut tightly, head lulling down and occasionally planting a sloppy kiss on whatever skin happened to be closest to his parted lips. His arms shift into a plank position and he nuzzles his face in your neck, body pressed firmly against you – the beads of sweat on his muscles rubbing against your middle in tandem with his thrusts that still only went in halfway. With your hands still on the globes of his ass, you clenched and pushed him deeper with your palms. 
He groans at the feeling, almost all the way inside of you. “You want it all? Huh?” He asks between gasps of air. “You want me to stretch out your tight little pussy. Take it.” He kisses you, tongue aggressively scouting your mouth. He lifts your legs up and sets them around his shoulders. 
While staring into your eyes, he snaps his hips forward until his pelvic bone was pressed deliciously on your own.
“Fuck!” You scream, feeling him so, so deep inside of you. The slightly upward curve pinned against your g-spot as he stayed still in that position. The way your strained walls grabbed him and kept him buried inside made his eyes cross for a second. He tilted his head and kissed your left knee. Your foot grazed his back when he pulled out almost all the way, and, Christ… the look he gave you was debilitating when he thrusts back in.
When you say Kylian is easy to read, you really meant it. You could stare at his face for all of three seconds and gauge his mood. It was something he actually found a little annoying sometimes; coming home after a tough day and you’d force him to talk about it before he would even get a hello out. He could say he hated your perceptiveness all he wants, but he’ll never truly convince himself of that. He loved that he could communicate with you with just a simple impression on his features. 
Now, he thrusted in and out, in and out as he gazed down at your hooded eyelids – and the look on his face was, again, one you've never seen before. 
And despite this, you just knew what it meant. You felt it in your heart. 
Love. Passion. Devotion. Care. Companionship. He'll be there for everything that is to come.
You saw your future in the shining glimmer in his irises. You saw everything. 
Tears naturally welled in your eyes, one slipped, rolling down the side of your face. There was a glint of concern in Kylian as he slowed his unforgiving pace, but you moved your hips to keep him going.
He halted his motions and was about to ask you if you were okay or if you were hurt, but your hands cradled his face and you leaned up to peck his lips. “I just love you so much.” You say, answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. 
He lets out a deep sigh, wavering and telling. His thumb grazes over the trail of your tear, then leaves it there to stroke your skin. You gave him a light and playful spank on his right butt cheek, making you both giggle. He leaned down and kissed you feverishly – smooching once, twice, three times and pulling back only slightly.
“I love you. Je t'aime. Dieu, je t'aime tellement.” I love you. God, I love you so much. He planted sweet kisses all over your face, still smiling. “Tu es tout pour moi.” You are everything to me. 
He pulled completely out of you, leaving you empty. A whine bubbled out of your chest and Kylian traced over the crease that had formed between your eyebrows, just before inserting himself back. Your mouth opened in pleasure, a moan stuck inside your throat as he gradually powered through your tight walls, inch by fucking inch. It was a feeling of complete satisfaction when his tip collided with your sweet spot once more. Even better when the drag of his thrusts nudged it over, and over, and over, A slow pace. A gentle pace. A pace that he felt necessary for the beginning of this new chapter. 
He knew he was close, but kept his rhythm to get you there with. His hand found your clit quickly, making you jolt up, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into you.
“Oh, shit, Kylian… God! Yes! Fuuuuck…” The heaps of praise melted like butter in Kylians ears. The sweet voice of the woman he loves praising him made his heart flutter, soaking in the feeling of your teeth sinking into his shoulder. 
“I’m gonna fill you up.” He stuttered into your hair, changing the motions of his fingers of your sensitive bud to get you there faster.
“Please, please, Kylian.” You kiss his neck, biting the skin. “Get me pregnant. Please.”
He moaned at your words, feeling like he couldn’t stop himself from orgasming for a minute longer. “Putain, je suis sur le point de... bon sang!” Fuck, I’m about to… Jesus Christ! 
It was there. Right there. His thrusts faltered, he took your face from his neck and ran his free thumb over your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as he groaned deeply. He squeezed his eyes closed as you felt his hot spurts of cum painting your walls, shooting into you delightfully until you were sure you were full. He cursed, eyes screwed shut as he continued thrusting sporadically. The feeling of it all made the knot in your abdomen pop. You screamed his name, legs shaking on his shoulder violently, toes curling, thighs shivering.
He pulled his hand away and kept fucking his cum into you through his groans of overstimulation, right until he had to gently and slowly pull out. He kept your legs pressed against your chest as he ventured down the mattress to get a better view of your pussy; his seed spilling out of you in dribbles, forcing him to stuff as much as he could back into you with his thumb. You shivered, lifting your head to watch him admire his work as if you were a piece of art he’d spent centuries perfecting. Slowly, he brought your sore legs back into a more natural position, soothing your aching muscles with a gentle massage. You were still coming down under his touch, both of you absolutely breathless. He throws himself down on the pillows next to you, whisking your hand from your heaving stomach – just holding it as you both calmed down and caught your breath. 
“Christ…” You mumbled, chuckling a little bit. You rotate your body toward him with a giddy smile on your face, cuddling into his side and kissing his cheek. He began chuckling along with you. “What if I'm pregnant right now?” You ask, excitement comfortably taking over your face. 
He shakes his head and looks at you, then down to your exposed stomach pressed against him. His hand snakes onto your middle, gently pushing you on your back as he steadied his hand right on your belly button. 
He didn't even need to say anything. His face said it all. 
The excitement of it all carried through the following weeks. It took everything in you to not tell every one of your friends and co-workers that you guys were trying. With the media breathing down your necks, it was agreed that this would be kept on the down low and you’d only announce when you were showing and could no longer hide it. Privacy was important to you both as a couple, and saying you're trying was really just a socially acceptable way of telling people you and Kylian were just constantly having sex.
Your leg bounced in anticipation as you asked your Alexa (again) how long was left of your fifteen minute timer. Kylian chewed on his thumbnail as he sat next to you on the bed with the same frustration at the slow clock ticking down, needing to know if the little stick that sat in the bathroom had one or two lines painted on it. 
“I’m not pregnant.” You say into the silence with no evidence that that was true.
He leans back, taking his raw nail away from his teeth. “You could be.”
“I don’t think I am. Wouldn’t I, you know, like, feel it, or something?”
He sighs, placing a sure hand on the small of your back. “I have no idea. I don’t know if you know this about me… but I’ve never been pregnant before.” He smiles, earning a forced grin from you. He notices the unnaturalness of your curved lips to appease his bad joke, never reaching your eyes as they darted around the room nervously. He scoots closer, hugging your shoulders comfortingly, rubbing them like it would take away your anxiety. “Whatever it says, we have time. We keep trying.” He kisses your cheek with a quirk in his smile. “I quite enjoy trying.” You huff out a laugh – a real one – and playfully jab his stomach with your elbow. 
That moment lasted no longer than a few seconds before the sound of the alarm went off. You audibly gulped down the minimal moisture in your mouth, taking a deep breath in as you both walked to the bathroom, Kylian holding your shoulders as he walked behind you into the tiled room. 
“You want me to look?” He quietly asked after you just stared at the stick that was face down on the counter, not moving a muscle or even blinking. You nod, wiping your hands on your pants. 
It felt like everything moved in slow motion when he reached for the otherwise insignificant plastic test that your future was written on. He kept the stick face down in his hand and took a deep breath in. You subconsciously crossed your fingers at your side. You’d never done that before, but you were hoping the universe would listen to your silent pleading superstition. You watch his face so intently, hyper-analyzing it before he even turns the stick in his hands. 
His eyes shot down to it and he pursed his lips with a miniscule sigh. Without saying anything else, he sets it back down on the counter and pulls you in for a hug. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you needed confirmation of your suspicions, looking over at the stick with only one single line. 
He put his chin on top of your head, squeezing you dearly. “It’s okay. It was our first try.” He murmured as you wrapped your own arms around his torso disappointingly. 
You nod despite the grave let down, having convinced yourself that it would happen now like you had both hoped. “Yeah. I don’t know why I expected to get a positive that quickly. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”
He shakes his head, not really knowing what to say to comfort you while dealing with his own waves of sadness. Embracing each other in lieu of speaking was just as comforting, knowing you both were having the same experience together was consolation enough. 
He kisses the top of your hair with a whispered I love you, holding you, holding him. 
A/N: Part 1 of 2 (possibly 3). I'm back! Thank you to everyone for being patient with me and checking up on me through my little month hiatus. Sometimes, you just need a break and I appreciate you guys so much for being so kind through it! Huge hug and kiss to everyone here! Based on these requests (anon 1) (anon 2). And, don't worry, @megannandrewss , yours is coming in the next parts!
Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss
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public-trans-it · 3 months
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Fighters should have magic
I mean this shit 100% seriously BTW.
An impassioned rant about Fighters' place in modern campaigns.
There is certainly an argument to be made for sometimes not giving Fighters access to magic! In a low magic setting like Dark Sun (yes, I know the magic situation in that setting is more complicated than that), it makes perfect sense that Fighters wouldn't go anywhere near the stuff! In some of the more old school low fantasy focused DnD editions, or some OSR systems, it makes sense that magic would require years of practice for even the most basic of spells, and so Fighters wouldn't bother with it.
That is not, however, the bulk of modern campaigns. Be it DnD, or Pathfinder, or so many other fantasy heartbreakers out there nowadays, most campaigns are fantastical, filled with wonderous magic and queer tieflings and rogues who literally cloak themselves in shadows and jumping between planes to save the world and so much more!
In these campaigns, Fighters should know magic!
If your setting is even close to treating magic as commonplace, where having a level 1 wizard under the age of a billion fucking years old is considered within the realm of feasibility, than EVERYONE should have access to magic!
Any adventurer in such a setting who decided to start a life of wilderness exploration, and DIDN'T learn the spell Prestidigitation, is nothing short of monster bait. "Oh yes this spell that starts campfires and cleans my clothes and seasons my food and is THE MOST BASIC SPELL IN EXISTENCE certainly isn't worth my time!" - The words of someone about to get eaten by a coyote on their first night. Not even a fun magical creature, just a regular ass coyote because they are THAT unprepared. Even if it wasn't a cantrip and required 5 minutes of focus to cast, every adventurer should know this spell by heart.
But obviously, that isn't unique to just Fighters.
Fighters are focused on being masters of weaponry! They study the blade, learn it inside and out! They don't have time for magic... right?
No. They don't have time to learn SPELLS. That you could absolutely make an argument for. A fighter doesn't have to learn to shoot a fireball, because that's not how they fight. Not knowing magic that augments their fighting style, in a setting where magic is commonplace, is equivalent to that fighter going "Oh I'm too busy to learn to fight with weapons. I dont have time to learn to sharpen one properly." THAT IS ASININE. WHAT REASON DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE FOR IGNORING A SKILL DIRECTLY LINKED TO THEIR CHOSEN PROFESSION? Spells like True Strike are things a fighter would learn! But even if not spells, magical augmentation to their skill are something a Fighter would absolutely embrace! Anything that helps them further the effectiveness of their weapons should be fair game for their practice. Even if it worked like Paladins or Rangers where you typically just don't get the spells until higher levels.
And the games already reflect this! What do Fighters need to maintain damage pacing and ability as they grow stronger? That's right. Magic. In the form of Magic Weapons and Armor.
Magic armaments are considered commonplace in these settings, being handed out like candy. They are an expected part of character progression, and the games are balanced around the expectation that a fighter will be using them. So why, then, is the master of weapons and all they embody completely ignorant on the front of magical weapons?
Sure, a fighter might not be able to craft magic weapons. Not every fighter has to be a blacksmith. But much like how it should be expected that a fighter should be able to at least MAINTAIN their weapons, a fighter should absolutely be trained in the kinds of magic that are APPLIED to weapons. A fighter should be able to take a single glance at a weapon in a chest, and turn to the party and go "Hey this thing is cursed as fuck, don't touch it."
In worlds that are so fantastical and magical, it does not make sense to have a guy who's whole deal is knowing how to fight, and have him completely ignore A MASSIVE segment of fighting styles they will be going up against.
If your setting is magical, then your Fighters should be magical too, damnit!
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quaintii · 11 months
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The CEO
A/N: the strip club scene from the movie, "Alice" and my dirty fantasies made me write this. I stood up for 4 hours revising this over and over so if there's mistakes, pls comment 😭 Hella long too 😭 word count is prob 4k?
Contents and warnings: breeding kink, hair pulling, choking, spanking, blackmail, remote-controlled vibrator, workplace setting, very very filthy smut <3
HEADER CREDITS ARE @mmadeinheavenn
Summary: You worked as a secretary to your CEO for a couple of months now and he was very cold to you and everyone else. You have a secret: you work as a stripper in a prestigious strip club.
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You work at Alchemax main building, you're a main secretary for Miguel O'Hara, the CEO in charge. You always greet him with a happy energy every morning, though he doesn't bother to return it back. You find him very cold. You try refusing that you didn't want to take a bite out of him or for him to break you because of his tone and stern glare whenever his eyes would meet yours. The tension between you two was thick. But you ignored it. You still kept your composure whatsoever whenever you would glance at him being furious, he would lash out his anger back at you whenever a meeting didn't go through. Deep down, you enjoyed the degradation, rushing hot blood to your cunt, pulsing."Ms. L/N, seriously you have to keep up with the latest specific studies, you can't keep coming in here turning in reports that were beyond due! Are you sure you're staying focused on this job, Ms? I will have to fire you if you dare make me lose another opportunity for growth of this company." He said with an angry sigh. "Sorry, Mr. O'Hara, I've just been busy with personal issues lately and I don't mean to push aside my work, ever! I'll make sure to meet your expectations next time." You say with confidence. "Okay, one last try. Or you're fired. Get out of my office."
He said while keeping his eyes on his computer. You nod and excuse yourself, walking towards the door, he turns his eyes to your body. Eyeing you up and down. He once again sighed angrily. He wanted you badly even since you first walked through that door. He would jerk himself in the middle of the night, wanting to thrust inside your pretty cunt til you were cock-drunk. Wanting to feel your hot walls wrapping around his cock, sucking him in like a vacuum. Begging for more. He couldn't stop thinking of you. On the other hand, you still push through his grumpy side, just for the money. Besides working this job, you have a small side hustle to gain more money. You wouldn't say you're greedy, you're just meeting your own needs. You thought to yourself if you possibly had an exhibitionism kink…probably.
At midnight, you work at a high prestige strip club, teasing men with your lascivious body. You wore almost nude outfits, begging to be ripped off your brown skin. Tonight you were by far exhausted from the calculations from work, and working as a stripper helped you ease down. You would keep your identity hidden with a wig and do your makeup a different way. You placed on your blonde wig in the dressing room, you wore some black and red lingerie that was decorated with soft silky satin finishes. It was completely exposing, besides your nipples - which had nipple covers on them, hearts to be exact. One of your companions on stage came up to you, "Hey girl, guess who we have today?" "What? Those musty middle-aged men again?" You laugh off. "No..we have a vip here. He seems really hot." She giggled. "Penny, you know that VIPs wear masks right? How could one be hot while wearing a masquerade mask? I'm pretty sure you're just bluffing, don't be a tease, babe." You said while sighing. "Whatever you say, just giving a heads up that I'm going to take him tonight." She said with a squeal.
You were waiting in line for your turn to perform, though things changed as your boss said you had a pole stage all to yourself. "You're one of my favorites and I think you'll lure in the VIP, this is very big for this company, so do well." He said and walked off. Only the best could perform on this stage, as a teen you practiced a lot of flexibility and dancing. Who would've known it'd taken you here, at this moment. As you walk past the curtains, you lean by the walls, posing yourself. You walk slowly to the spotlight by the pole and do some spins and a split, opening your legs to your clothed cunt towards the audience.
Lots of woahs echo in your ears, afterall you were the best one here. You tried to remember what the chick from earlier said, you kept trying to find a man with a masquerade mask but you couldn't. Until you faced your eyes towards the low, lighted bar. He was focusing on your body and face. You sneakily changed your position to face him, swaying your hips to the song, seductively going lower and lower. You raise yourself by your legs hanging on the pole, doing some twists. The man takes a sip of some alcohol then signaling you to come towards where he was. You finished off your show and a lot of groans were heard. As you approached the man in the mask, everyone's eyes were on you. You finally see this man's figure and he was towering. You almost stumbled back because he seemed so frightening. He grabbed your wrist harshly and headed towards the vip lounge rooms. To the last row at the very end is where you were taken. "Quítate la ropa," he said with a grating tone. (Take off your clothes.)
You disobeyed him as it did seem too fast for you, so you did a little teasing. You faced your ass upfront to his crotch. Straddling him slowly with your hips. You heard light groans but nothing more than that. You figured out a way for him to get more pleased. You started giving him a lap dance. Moving your ass upfront to his face. Arching your back on the table that you laid on top. You would move your hips to the side, still teasing, but you stopped as soon as you heard a rough voice whispering in your ear, "No me hagas eso muñeca, yo no la haría si era tu. Quiero ver tu coño." (Don't do that to me doll, I wouldn't do that if I were you. I want to see your cunt.) He said while nibbling your ear. Shivers were sent down to your spine, doing so, you removed your panties and spread your legs at him. "Feliz?" (Happy?) You said in a low tone. "No, quiero que volteretas tu coño y culo a mi, corazón." (No, I want you to turn around and face your pussy and ass towards me, love.) He said with a grinning smile.
Those nicknames drove you wet to your core a bit, so you decided to push his limit. "Y que me pasó si no lo hago casó?" (And what will happen if I don't listen?) You said giggling. You suddenly gasp as you keep his bodyweight laying down on yours onto the satin sofa, feeling his crotch, a huge bulge against your ass. "No te va gustar mucho, amor." He rubbed his hips against yourself, you pushing your ass to his hips, hoping to relieve some friction on your cunt. He moved himself and slapped your ass harshly. You yelp out a moan. "¿Quién te dijo que puedes hacer eso? Yo soy quien mando, cariño. Te gusta eso?" (Who said you could do that? I'm the one in charge here, love. You like that?) He said while snickering softly.
You turn your head around and nod slowly. You bite your swollen lip, your cunt now dripping in slicked wetness. The mysterious man then placed a finger, moving them to your clit. You moan in relief. "F-fuck, please fuck me sir, please…" "Look how wet you are for me..you're such a dirty slut." He said while landing another slap on your ass, making you jerk forward and whimper. "Turn around for me." You do as he said, biting your lips, hoping for something exciting. That is until you notice his mask is off, and your blood runs cold. Your face burns up with embarrassment and you covered your cunt with your hands. "Mr.O'Hara, I didn't know it was you, how did you even find me here, I-i." He placed a finger on your lips, quickly shutting you up. "I know everything about you. Here, take this and wear it tomorrow for the presentation. If you don't, I'll have to fire you for moral turpitude. Looking like dirty, fucking, slut at night and working at my office in day like a good girl." He said, whispering into your ears.
His hot breath and voice once again sparked fire down your core. He quickly left you alone in the lounge room, leaving you to your own rapid thoughts. You couldn't stop hyperventilating from what just happened, you can't afford to get fired! Your whole record would be ruined for doing something so indecent. You couldn't hate yourself more than right now. Round the corner, a red box catches your eyes. You proceed to open it and it's a remote controlled vibrator, though the remote, you assumed, he had. You placed the pieces together and realized you had to wear this to the next presentation meeting. You couldn't let your record get ruined, let alone knowing your boss telling others of what you do at night. You had to face it and put up with it.
The next day, you kept staring at the vibrator. You were nervous, sweat droplets spreading across your face. What if it falls off during the presentation? What if someone could hear the vibrations? You kept wondering about so many endless scenarios about the 'What if.' You took a deep sigh and placed it in your cunt. It was cold against your warm pussy. It felt quite uncomfortable. As you walked to Mr. O'Hara's office, you couldn't gather the courage to even knock on his door nor look at his face after last night. But you did so anyway. "Here are the reports for today, Mr. O'Hara. I made sure they're all good for the presentation soon." You said timidly. "Perfect, thank you Ms. L/N, I hope you remember what I told you last night. Let's see how well you do today, if you fail I'll just have to fire you." He said with a cold tone but with a hint of amusement. You audibly gasped and faced him. His eyes already magnetized onto yours, eyeing you up and down.
You felt yourself getting aroused again, his sculpted features drew you in further. Your mind brings back how his crotch felt against your hips, he was rock hard and it felt heavenly. "I-I made s-sure of that, Mr. O'Hara." You kept stumbling over your words, causing you to scream inside. "Great, you can head out now." He said while grinning. Still eyeing you. You excuse yourself and quickly get out of there, you felt like there was no air in your lungs, you placed your palms on your face wondering how bad this could possibly go. You cursed under your breath.
The presentation was starting, Mr. O'Hara was doing the first couple of slides then you had the rest to yourself. Unfortunately, the presentation was 10 slides long. Many prestigious men entered the room, greeting one another. You sit by Mr. O'Hara's chair, his chair being right in the middle in the very back, facing the board. About 20 minutes pass, and it's your turn to present. "Welcome to Alchemax, I would like to provide you guys with an amazing proposal that would benefit both sides of our companies." You said while switching your eyes with the representatives and Miguel. You see something shift in his suit, and you jolt as you feel the vibrations on. You almost stumble on the floor by the unexpected vibrations. "Sorry about that, probably something I ate this morning. Stomach ache!" You say trying to brush off your jolting. You start with your first slide, glaring at Miguel whenever he would turn on and off the vibrating.
Your cunt was dripping wet. You wanted more vibrations even if you were to embarrass yourself right now and risk your job. You tried your best to pay no attention to how Miguel's eyes would light up dark red, giving you an erotic stare. As if he was unclothing you with his eyes. Watching you break all over something small, he wondered how badly you'd break around his cock, using your body like a a slut you are. As you kept speaking, the vibrations kept increasing which caused you to stutter multiple times. "Excuse me miss, is something ok?" Asked a representative. "Oh I'm sure it's just nothing, don't worry." You smile softly. You then glare at Miguel, for embarrassing you during your big project. But deep down, you enjoyed it. You coughed and continued your presentation. The vibrator started fastening more, your clit becoming sensitive as time went by. It felt like the slided wouldn't come to an end, you felt wobbly to your knees.
You tried your best to not fall and keep your professional composure. Small tears streaked down your cheeks, you had hoped they were unnoticed. You felt like coming until it finally stopped. You let out a small growl, staring at Miguel in dissatisfaction. You were finally done with your presentation which felt like ages. The moment you sat down, Miguel increased it to it's highest speed. You jolted, your nerves and blood rushing through your system. You let out a stifled moan, and proceeded to play it out as a cough. Now that you're sitting, the vibrator is hitting your clit even harder. You felt like the pleasure was going to leave you unconscious because it just felt so good. You had half-lidded eyes looking at Miguel, begging for him to stop but he just smirked at you. You bit the inside of your cheeks, drawing out blood, you kept holding in your moans and breathing heavily.
You felt like your eyes were rolling back to your head. You just rested your head on the chair's head support. Your throat felt like it was about to let out a loud moan and you choked on your saliva. You couldn't hold it in anymore, so you hurriedly left the room and ran to the bathroom. Miguel still kept the vibrator on it's highest setting which made you stumble on the way onto the floor the moment you made it to the bathroom. You placed your arms on the sink, holding yourself up as you felt your cunt pulsing and spasming around the device, finally letting out your moans. Your legs were wobbly and you finally came.
Your breathing became unstable-like, you tried your best to regulate it back. You started at yourself in the mirror, how could you do something so foolish and be caught up in this situation? You pulled off the device and flushed it down the toilet. You finally thought it was over and you could keep your job. That is until you open the door, Miguel immediately barging in and grabbing your waist towards his chest. He closed the door behind him. "God you should've seen how you looked squirming, princess. You looked adorable, you're such a good girl y'know? You should be rewarded." "Miguel, please let this be over…" You gave out more moans as he massaged your breasts. "Todavía no, cariño. Te quiero conmigo, quiero usar tu cuerpo y saber tu precioso coño.." (Not yet love, I want to be with you, use your body and taste your pretty pussy.)
He gruffed as he sucked onto your neck. "Mhmmf.. M-miguel, please…" You whimpered out. "Be a good slut for me, do that for me." He grabbed a hold of your throat, lifting towards his face. His eyes lit up with lust. Your brain was starting to fog up. "Si..Miguel..mmhgfm fuck, please fuck me Miguel." You say with a strained voice as his fingers grip your throat tighter. "Tenga cuidado con lo que pides, amor. Porque ya no puedo detenerme más." (Be careful with what you ask for, love. Because I would be able to hold myself back anymore.) You jumped and wrapped you legs around his waist and hips, his arms holding you up as you wrap your hands around his neck.
The both of you kiss hungrily each other, as if your life depended on it. Both of your lips finally left go to breathe. You stare at his lips and eyes with your lust filled, low lidded eyes. "Miguel, put your cock inside of me, p-please.." You whimper and suck on his neck. He leans his head back and he groans which makes your cunt pulse. "Sé una buena chica para mí, cariño. Quiero que me la chupes. Dios, tengo tantas ganas de cogerte ahora mismo. Mira lo que me haces muñeca.." (Be a good girl for me, baby. I want you to blow me. God, I want to fuck you so bad right now. Look what you do to me doll…) You obey and go on your knees. You lower his zipper and his boxers.
His cock springs out, the base is dark brown while his tip is a pinkish brown. It was leaking with pre-cum, begging to be sucked on. You kitten-licked the tip - teasingly by giving it small kisses on the head. Miguel looks down at you, he could barely control himself to the point he wants to throat fuck you til you can't breathe. You then take half of him in your warm mouth, swirling your tongue around his length. He grabs ahold of your head and leans back on a wall, keeping himself standing. "Mierda.. tu boca.." (Fuck.. your mouth.) He cursed under his breath. You hollow your cheeks and you take more of him as your throat relaxes. He reluctantly bucked his hips, causing you to choke. You loved how his cock tasted, how it felt full in your mouth. You started fastening and Miguel lost full control.
He grabbed your hair and bucked his hips harshly. Hid hips spasming."F-fuck your mouth feels like heaven, amor. Fuck you're taking me so well…such a dirty slut." He moaned. You looked up at him with teary eyes, the sound of sucking echoed. You were squirming and pressuring your thighs together. When you moaned, he loved how tight your throat would get. You felt that he was about to come so you hollow your cheeks even more. He looked down at you, and he finally pumped his semen down your throat, it felt hot and bittersweet. You finally detach your mouth from his dick but licking all of him clean.
It caused something in Miguel to completely break. He grabbed you up and removed your skirt and panties. He bent your back, you arched it even further as he slapped your ass harshly, making you jerk forward. He placed you In Front of a tall mirror. "I want you to look how I fuck you..how good I fucking make you feel. No one will ever make you feel this good. Your pussy is fucking mine." He says while biting on your shoulders with his fangs. He removed all of his clothes and removed your top. "Look at your fucking tits, all of me. Mierda..." He drew out blood and sucked it dry. He lines up his dick In Front of your cunt, teasing it. You couldn't wait anymore, you were too desperate for him to pound you without mercy. Making a complete mess of you til you couldn't walk.
He pinched your perked nipples, making you shiver and bite down on your swollen lip. You look at the mirror, he keeps eyeing you, he would never remove his eyes off of your body. He slapped your ass and moved his mouth to your breasts. Sucked them like it was the last time with you. You let out loud moans."M-miguel please, I want your fucking cock inside of me..please I want you inside of me so bad. P-please..f-fuck." You whimper. He smirked devilishly. "Where do you want me, cariño.." He huffed out. "Inside of my fucking pu-." You were interrupted as he slams his cock inside of you, keeping a steady pace, your throat chokes continuously on your moans, it felt so fucking good. All of the air in your lungs left, you felt him touching your insides. Your cunt pulsing and squeezing him while he pulled out and thrusted into you even harder. You placed your hands onto the mirror, gasping and moaning.
Chanting Miguel's name incoherently like a prayer. You wanted him to ruin you, you wanted to be his cum dumpster. "F-fuck mmhfm m-miguel please stop..s'too much. Fuck..aughmmhffm…" You moaned out in gasps. "Look how slutty you look, taking in my cock so good like a good slut. Such a good girl, your pussy keeps sucking me in princessa..f-fuck.." He moans. He grabs your throat, making you face yourself In Front of the mirror. Your mouth was agape, eyes rolled back to your skull, making erotic sounds that caused Miguel's cock to harden even more. Both of your bodies were sweating and heaving, making the room atmosphere thicken. You were so cock-drunk, your brain couldn't form coherent thoughts, let alone words.
The only thing you could think was his dick inside of you, deep. You arched your back even more, allowing him to dig deeper inside of your warm pussy. You felt like you were going to fucking collapse by the amazing pleasure. That was until he pulled out. "F-fuck.. I want everyone to see what a dirty slut you are." He huffed and kissed you hard. "M-miguel, what if someone sees us." You said with a worried tone. "Don't you like that? Don't you like to be seen being fucked by me, all inside your pussy, amor?" You nod and whimper. "Y-yes Miguel.." He opens the bathroom door and heads to his office, gathering all the clothes and placing them on his couch. Fortunately, no one was on the floor. He grabs you by the throat, gripping it harder. He slammed your body onto the desk, causing paperwork to fall but you couldn't care less now. Your face and tits were planted on the cold desk, sending shivers down your spine.
Miguel pulled your hips upward, making you arch. He used his fingers to separate your lips and see your glistening cunt. He inserted his fingers inside your pussy and you moaned. He took them out to taste them and he almost came from it alone. You tasted so sweet, like a forbidden fruit. Your pussy pulsated and clenched around nothing, begging for some attention. "Miguel I want your cock inside of me again, please.." You whimpered. "Be a good girl and wait." He licked your pussy up and down and rubbed your clit. You stretch your neck, feeling so good and moaning that your voice was so strained. He slaps your pussy, making you jolt forward. He then grabs you by the waist and pushed your body against the sky high windows. "I want everyone to see how good I'm fucking you..you like that don't you?" He said while smirking. "Y-yes Miguel please fuck my dirty pussy already. Fuck me til I can't breathe." You groaned.
He slammed into your cunt once again, suddenly making you let out a loud strained moan. You kept cursing and yelling his name. Your moans would only get louder as he rubbed his thumbs up and down on your clit, pressing on it hard. His other hand pinched your nipples while his mouth landed on your neck. Your back arched back to his chest, causing him to reach your soft, squishy walls that you thought were unreachable. You could barely control your body's weight. Miguel grabbed both of your hips and bent your back even more. Your face against the window causes it to fog up. His cock slammed harder inside of you, deeper. His claws deepened on your hips. He slammed up into you at a much faster pace than before, hitting all the places he knew you loved. “Eres mia... Mia y mia solo,” (You're mine, mine and mine only.) Miguel whispered into your ear before kissing the skin below it.
His voice had lost its cold underlining, whining out as his hips stuttered. Miguel's hips rocked still before he let out a soft sigh, his cum painted your walls perfectly. You writhed under his large body, riding your own orgasm as he continued to rub your clit. Coming down to a stop you sighed as your body shook at the intensity. "You're my little cum slut, aren't you? Yeah you like it when I fill your pussy up with my cum don't you?" Miguel slowly pulled out, shoving his fingers into me immediately, making my back arch. He pumped his cum back inside of my pussy. You collapse from overstimulation. You wake up a few hours later on a soft bed. An arm wraps around you. You felt warm and cared for. You look up and see Miguel sleeping. He looked beautiful. You want something to happen between the two of you and hopefully become a couple. You moved closer to him and placed a kiss on his cheek and he suddenly placed one on your forehead.
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lilliths-httyd-blog · 3 months
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we always specify the difference between the earlier books and the later books in the HTTYD franchise as "books 1-7 are whimsical, fun child fantasy and books 8-12 are absolutely fucked" but... i don't believe that's true.
the later books are consistently fucked up and complicated and mature and wonderful and tend to leave me with tears in my eyes. the early books trick you into believing that they're fun children's stories and then jumpscare you with the most messed up set of paragraphs you've ever read in your entire fucking life AND THEN just pretend like nothing ever happened.
the books all take place in the same universe, the same fucked up, horrible world. the early books are through the lense of a child who hasn't yet grasped how fucked up the world is, who hasn't been exposed to the fuckery yet. the later books are through the lense of the same child who has now been burdened with Knowledge. once you have the context of the later books, the earlier books start to make too much sense. and holy fuck do they get a lot darker upon reread.
the books are all completely fucked up. the only difference is the consistency at which the books are fucked up.
you know what book seriously messed me up as a kid? book 2. DEAR GODS BOOK 2.
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