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#who is weak to the female existence
wings-of-angels · 6 months
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Passionate, homosexual love letter for you!
“Oh Max, thy strange swag has enchanted me. I dream of your amazing mouse facts, and yearn for the day that I might hear your wonderful jokes again.
Cursed be fate (uni) for keeping us apart (giving me work so I can’t write u so much).
In love (/p), a totally anonymous person.”
BDJSHSISJSOSHSK oh thank you anonymous person whos identity i yearn to unravel (charlie), i am platonically swooning at your words. Truly, how dare fate get in the way of our blossoming friendship 😔😔💞💞
#I HOPE THE UNI WORK IS EASY 💞💞💞#also GIGGLING thank you for this :D it made me smile#ALSO rodent fact:#did you know that rodents can declan ???#(which is when rodents who were previously in a group kick out one or more rodents from the group)#i was specifically researching gerbils so idk how generalisable this is to other rodents#BUUUTTT gerbils have hierarchys with 'alpha males/females' and subordinate gerbils#and sometimes the leader gerbil is challenged which leads to the challenger and the leader fighting#the loser is then kicked from the group#this can happen for several reasons#1. only the leader/alpha gerbil can mate with gerbils. which can make the other gerbils mad and want that for themselves#2. another gerbil wants to become the alpha gerbil. often this happens when the alpha is older or weak#3. if a newer or younger gerbil has joined the group. they may upset the established hierarchy. other gerbils may want to mate with it OR-#-the newer gerbil may want the leader position instead#(ive been calling the alpha gerbil the leader but idk if they actually lead anyone 😭😭 also im not sure if alpha females exist)#BUT YEAH it leads to fighting and the loser being kicked out#sometimes other gerbils will leave with the loser#HOWEVER in captivity when a gerbil is kicked out they cant actually leave the cage so its up to the owner to notice the signs of declanning#the signs are an increase in fights (when the loser doesnt leave cos it cant get out the cage.. the alpha takes their continued presence-#-as a threat to their authority leading to more fighting)#if not dealt with.. it often leads to the losers death :((#another sign is the loser not sleeping in the burrow with other gerbils and eating seperately#theyll also be really exited about leaving the cage and want to get out as quick as possible#if declanning happens ur supposed to remove the gerbil from the cage/tank/gerbilarium and give them a new home#then you gotta introduce them to new gerbils (gerbils get rlly sad if left on their own)#ANYWAY SORRU I WANTED TO RAMBLE ABOUT GERBILS COS I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS A THING UNTIL A WEEK AGO
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eviltothecore13 · 1 year
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Is it just me or has fandom overall...changed a lot in how it talks about its favourite characters over the past few years?
It used to be people who really liked a character would be like “this character’s the best at everything, they can do no wrong, they’d win every fight, they have a plan for everything, they’re the coolest cleverest most attractive person in the whole story!!!”, and like...that could go too far, it could be annoying or just really really inaccurate compared to canon (I used to know a Jill fan who insisted that Jill could easily beat every single character in the series in a fight--and look, Jill is very cool, but Chris was canonically the best in hand-to-hand combat at STARS and was also training HER in marksmanship, Jill is of course extremely capable but...she really does not have to be the best at everything to prove why she’s your favourite...for that matter, Wesker fans who were like “Wesker in RE5 has to be a clone/a fake/whatever because the REAL Wesker would never LOSE because Wesker can’t make mistakes!”...always made me go *stop, please, it’s embarrassing*), but it did...make sense why someone who really loved a character would say these things about them?
But now it seems like the kind of comments people make about their favourite characters, and the way they portray them in fics, are...pretty much the opposite of that? People will be like “my blorbo is SO STUPID! they’re so useless they can’t do ANYTHING! they’re a pathetic weak little wet paper bag!”
Like, a few years ago if I’d seen a post saying things like that about a character I’d assume it was written by someone who hated them?
And obviously...sometimes a character you love is kind of a dork, or makes some silly mistakes sometimes. Other times a character you love is a terrible evil person. I’m not saying everyone should equate liking a character with thinking they’re perfect. But...most popular characters AREN’T actually completely stupid and incompetent at absolutely everything, and I can never quite get my head around it when people seem to hold this view of a character and it’s clearly not true, like...if you really think they’re pathetic, stupid, and can’t do anything right...do you really like them that much?
I’ve seen fandom call characters stupid/idiots when they are either science geniuses, or they’re brilliant inventors who build sci-fi gadgets, or they’re scheming chessmaster strategist types who manipulate all the other characters for years and come very close to taking over the world, or maybe they just canonically speak several languages and are well-read, or even if canon doesn’t focus much on their intelligence you’ve got characters like Chris who was a USAF fighter pilot--which means he has a degree, judging by the timeline probably an Air Force Academy one, which means he was likely in the top 3% of his high school classes and DEFINITELY didn’t “barely scrape through” as I often see headcanoned (not just by people who want to bash him but people who are like “I love him! He’s such a big dumb himbo! He’s so stupid!!” like. what.)
Similarly I see characters who are canonically very confident and self-assured, never really doubting themselves for a second, and who canonically react to things going wrong by calmly adapting their plans and moving forwards without ever getting discouraged, get tagged on posts about “pathetic wet paper bag men who’ve never had a good day in their life and an insult from a child would make them cry”.
Or characters who are shown in canon as dangerous, powerful and near-fearless fighters get written in fics, by people who say they’re their favourites, as spending all their time crying and flinching and not even trying to defend themself from whoever’s attacking/trying to hurt them (and not because they went through some major trauma previously in the fic that left them in this state, either--often the fic is set during canon and the character is just...like that rather than something having happened to change them from who they were at that point in their life in canon)... personally, while I enjoy whump, whumping a character who’s ALREADY weak and helpless and spends all their time curled up in a corner crying BEFORE whatever you do to them in the fic can easily just feel like kicking them while they’re down and is honestly boring because it doesn’t show anything NEW about the character, so it’s particularly odd to see fics written that way when the character in canon is exactly the confident powerful type that I do think is fun to whump.
(For a specific example, RE canon is that Wesker and Sergei had a rivalry and Wesker seems to view Sergei mostly with disdain and see him as an annoying obstacle. Wesker never gives any sign of being scared of or intimidated by Sergei, and certainly doesn’t seem to start panicking the instant Sergei enters a room. And even before he had his powers, he had extensive combat training by the time he met Sergei, and Sergei being taller and heavier doesn’t inherently mean that Wesker would be defenceless and go down in one punch in a fight, or even that Wesker would LOSE a fight against him. Canon doesn’t depict Wesker as a helpless victim for Sergei to beat up...hurt him by all means but it’s OOC if Wesker doesn’t give as good as he gets.)
Oh, and characters who are canonically master manipulators who are experts at getting people on their side and gaining their trust being portrayed as so socially awkward and clueless that they’re incapable of holding a conversation without coming across offputtingly weird...
Maybe I’m the odd one out here but I can’t really get why you’d want to present your favourite character as LESS capable, LESS intelligent, LESS brave or confident or powerful or whatever other impressive traits they might have in canon? Like I wouldn’t go so far as to say I ADMIRE all my favourite characters, because some of them are murderous evil monsters, but...I generally do see them as either having some kind of admirable personality trait (courage, integrity, confidence, determination... or maybe just a lot of charisma and a good sense of humour, though I feel like charisma tends to overlap with confidence a fair bit...), or at least as being very good at what they do. I can kind of get the appeal of the “sweet and kind and caring but not that bright ‘golden retriever man’ type”, even though they’re not usually MY type, because I know some people primarily like characters who they think it would be good to be friends with (and most of those types of characters aren’t USELESS, at the very least they tend to be good at listening and being supportive), but when someone’s favourite character is a bad person AND they seem to think they’re stupid, useless, incompetent and pathetic on top of being evil it’s like...so what do you even like about them?
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2
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a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3
Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)
Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.
Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)
- He's a beast.
Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.
- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom
Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.
- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 
She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 
- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.
- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 
Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 
The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 
The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 
- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?
You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.
- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.
A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.
You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 
Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.
- Wear black tomorrow.
Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.
*** Perhaps you did die. 
Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.
You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 
The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 
This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 
Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.
You awake screaming.
***
In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 
Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 
As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.
 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.
It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 
- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.
- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 
- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 
The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 
Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 
Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 
- Shall we, my Lady? 
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 
He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.
It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.
The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.
- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?
Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 
- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 
- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?
Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 
- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.
Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.
They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 
- Train with me.
The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 
Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 
- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.
To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 
- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.
- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.
- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.
- You're trying to get under my skin.
Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.
- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.
He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.
- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...
- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.
Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.
- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.
The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 
His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 
So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 
Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 
The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 
Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.
You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 
He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?
The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.
You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 
Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 
He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 
Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.
Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 
The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 
- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.
- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.
This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.
Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 
Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 
- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.
The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.
- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 
That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 
The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.
The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 
Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 
His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.
And then his hips roll upwards. 
A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 
Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.
Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 
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doberbutts · 4 months
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i think people mostly just have an issue with the persistent centering of men when it comes to feminist issues. sure, men often suffer under the patriarchy as well, but they dont suffer as much as women do and actually have much to lose from dismantling the system (compared to what they would gain from doing so), so just highlighting this fact doesnt do much to further feminist goals
that being said i do think its something that should go acknowledged lest we fall into the manhating hole, which is obviously counterproductive
Personally I don't think it's "centering men" to acknowledge the ways the patriarchy wields misogyny as a weapon against the very people who benefit the most from misogyny in the first place, because if nothing else it can show everyone that maybe beating the shit out of little boys who try makeup and nail polish and teaching them that anything feminine is a sign of weakness is also having a direct impact on creating adult men who want to kill any sign of femininity in front of them and who think anyone feminine is less than human.
It used to be pretty common theory to acknowledge the cause-and-effect happening here, and to strive to treat the next generation of little boys with more openness towards femininity alongside the little girls learning that they did not have to conform to gender roles. Not just having well-written female protagonists but also making sure that it wasn't just girls watching and reading, to show the boys something more than the sex dolls only existing for wank material in other media.
That's not centering men. That's making sure that we're addressing the full problem instead of only half of it.
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gurugirl · 5 months
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3. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
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Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: The aftermath of that fateful night has lots of consequences. Not all of them are bad.
A/N: This is the final part! Based on this and this.
Word Count: 11.7k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of divorce
The Unicorn Masterlist
You had to admit. The ensuite bathroom was really nice. But you couldn’t imagine enjoying the soaker tub with jets and soft fluffy towels as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You took off your little pearl choker as tears continued to fall down your cheeks and you removed your sweater and skirt. It all felt so pointless. You had wasted so much time fretting over your outfit and matching it to your pearl choker and your pretty panties all for everything to just blow up completely. Now your favorite pink pearl choker was tainted and you’d probably never want to wear it again.
You should have said no to the proposition. You knew you should have listened to your gut. It was going to blow up and someone was going to get hurt.
Your night shorts and matching top were soft on your skin but you hated it because you’d also chosen this set with the thought that both Kit and Harry might see it. But you’d be sure they never did.
Setting your alarm for 5:00 am you climbed into the luxurious bed and rolled to your side hoping you could get some sleep so you could turn your brain off as you replayed every moment in your head over and over again.
.           .           .          
“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Harry,” Kit insisted.
“She can’t hear us in here, love. Come on. Let’s work something out. Things didn’t go like we thought… right? We don’t need to do it again.”
“I just… I need some space, H. That was a lot. I guess I didn’t expect it to feel that way. I can’t talk about it right now, though. I need to sleep on it. Away from you. I know I’ll feel better in the morning.”
Harry nodded and grabbed his wife’s hand, “I love you, Kitty. You know that right? I love you so much. You are the most important person to me in the world.”
Kit attempted a weak smile as she pulled her hand away and tucked herself into the blankets, “Can you turn the light off when you leave the room?”
.           .           .
Harry had been unable to sleep at all. The couch wasn’t a great spot to sleep but more than that, he was feeling guilty and trying to figure out how to fix the problem. He didn’t want you to feel bad, you hadn’t done anything wrong. But he did need to support his wife first and foremost. He’d need to insist she apologize and put it behind her but he didn’t want his wife to feel like he was taking your side either. Even though, in a way, he kind of was. You were the innocent party in all this. He’d gotten carried away. You both just clicked. The chemistry between you was impenetrable. So much so that he nearly forgot about his wife being there and said some things he didn’t really mean.
When he heard light footfalls coming down the stairs and then saw the outline of your frame as you rushed toward the door he shot up from the couch and hurried toward you, “Y/n?”
You closed your eyes and stopped in your tracks. You hoped he was asleep and that you could leave without him knowing.
He put his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind you and spoke quietly, “Are you okay to drive?” He knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk you into staying. Though in his mind, the best-case scenario was that the three of you could sit and talk and move on from the disaster of what had happened the night before. Maybe over coffee and waffles. He knew that was unlikely but he had hoped.
“I’m fine now. I just want to get out of here. I feel awful,” you turned yourself to look up at him in the dark.
“You don’t need to feel bad, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I need you to understand that.”
“I just need to go. You’ve been so nice to me. Thank you, Harry. For everything. Tell Kit how awful I feel and that I’m so sorry and never meant to hurt her.”
Harry frowned, “Don’t worry. Kit will feel better when she wakes up. I’ll talk to her. But you don’t owe anyone an apology.”
He put his arms around you and held you against his chest in a sweet hug. You could feel the thud of his heart under his pecs and inhaled his scent. You’d miss him. You’d miss Kit too. You’d especially miss William and Warner.
.           .           .
When you didn’t show up on Monday morning at the Styles’ house both Kit and Harry knew what was going on.
Kit had planned on apologizing to you for her behavior in person. She’d even planned to go to work a bit late that morning so all three of you could try and work it out. She was still feeling a bit betrayed by Harry and having a hard time unseeing and hearing what she had, but she knew her conduct had been out of line. She was acting on pure emotion and the wine exasperated her reaction. But that was no excuse.
“I can work from home today,” Harry said.
Kit shook her head, “I feel awful. I hurt her feelings. I was such a bitch to her and she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I should text her. Or go to her apartment and apologize to her face-to-face? What do you think? The least I can do is apologize for how I treated her.”
Harry pursed his lips, “Let me text her. See if she’ll come over later when you get home. I’ll tell her we’d like to talk and that you want to apologize.”
Sighing, Kit closed her eyes, “Don’t text her. I will. This is something I need to fix.”
He decided he’d let his wife figure out how she needed to approach the issue but he was worried it was too late. He was worried he’d never see you again and that would be it. You were totally justified in ghosting them both. Plus the semester would be starting up again for you in a couple of weeks and the boys would be back in school during the day so it felt futile to beg for you to come back.
And that’s exactly what you thought too. You were about to head into the new fall semester to start on your master’s degree and the boys were going back to school. You had hoped you’d still be able to watch the twins when Harry and Kit wanted a weekend away or a night off for a few extra bucks during the school year but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to face either Kit or Harry again.
You were sure Kit hated you with every fiber of her being. Which kind of made you angry the more you sat with what had happened. As sad as you were and as bad as you felt, you knew Harry was right. Nothing that happened was actually your fault.
Distracting yourself from what had happened Saturday night had been difficult because it was all so fresh. You knew with some time you’d get over it and move on but you were sure there would be some damage there. Netflix, long walks, lots of sleep, and pints of ice cream seemed to help a little.
But still, the moment that you couldn’t erase from your memory was when you were on their bed as Harry had just finished himself on your back and Kit yelled at him to make you leave all while you were still naked and floaty. Humiliating. But more than that, you started to realize, that what Kit did was uncalled for and mean. She had been mean to you and that made you angry.
So you were surprised when you saw a text from her on Monday afternoon. With an apology.
I hope you’re doing okay. I just wanted to reach out and tell you how sorry I am for how I acted Saturday night. I had hoped to talk to you this morning about it so I could do this in person, and I would still like to apologize to you in person if you’d let me. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it but if you are, I’ll be at Davanti’s on Fresno Street at 3:30 pm. I’ll be alone and plan to stay for an hour.
It was 2 pm. You needed to decide if you wanted to hear her out or just move on. Could you look at her again? Would you simply break down and cry the moment you saw her? Maybe it would be better if you requested Harry to be there? Or perhaps you should just ignore her and be done with it.
But you figured opting for closure would be better in the end. For you and probably for Kit as well.
I’ll be there.
You found a spot to park on the street a few blocks away so you could get some fresh air and stretch your legs before going inside. And also just in case you suddenly decided you didn’t want to go through with it, you could turn around and leave without having Kit seeing you.
But you didn’t change your mind and when you walked into the restaurant you saw Kit sitting at a booth looking down at her phone with a glass of wine in front of her.
You slid in across from her and she startled slightly before placing her phone face down, “Y/n! You came. Thank you.” She smiled. She looked hopeful and sweet.
Nodding you smiled back, “Of course.”
Kit looked at your hands and then out into the restaurant before back to you, “Would you like anything to drink or eat? It’s on me if you want–“
“No. That’s fine. I’ll just have a water when the server comes by. Not really hungry.”
She sat for a moment and blinked her eyes as she looked at you softly, “I am so sorry, Y/n. I know me just saying that can’t erase what I did. I wasn’t prepared to see him like that with anyone and I took it out on you. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I acted.”
You nodded and looked down at the table. You figured she would eventually forgive herself. Because that’s why she was there wanting to apologize to you in person. She wanted to feel better about what had happened and this was her way of doing that. So, while she would forgive herself eventually, despite saying she wouldn’t, you would never forget what happened to you that night. How she treated you, demeaned you. How it made you feel disgusted with yourself and Harry and her all at once. The horror you felt when the worst possible outcome happened.
“Can you ever forgive me?” She finally said which made you look up at her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m not really sure how I even feel right now about it. I still need time to negotiate all of this in my head first.”
Kit spread her fingers out on the table and looked down at her hand, “I understand that. I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” she sighed and looked back at you, “I wanted to try something new with Harry. I’ve been so… just trying to figure out how to make myself feel that thing I used to feel for him, ya know?” She laughed and shook her head, “He’s just so… male. I mean he’s sweet and gentle and attractive but in bed, he wants something I can’t give him, and vice versa. And now that the twins are older we get more privacy and can get back into being a little more explorative, and it’s made me really miss how things were when I was single and dating women. I know that sounds awful,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “But I’ve just been reaching for something that I’m never going to be able to have with Harry alone. But turns out,” she laughed, “funnily enough, that I don’t like him with anyone else or feeling that passion with someone else that I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel that with you. But that’s selfish of me. I’m all messed up right now,” she stitched her brows together and you could see how glassy her eyes were, “I’m sorry to dump that on you. That’s not fair to you.”
You nodded. You didn’t know what to say in response. She shouldn’t have told you any of that. That was true. And now you just felt bad for Harry that his wife was seeking something to fill in where she thought he lacked. But all you could think was that he was everything anyone would ever want and yet Kit didn’t even see that somehow.
“I wanted to also give you this. From the boys.” She handed you a small homemade booklet with drawings on it from both William and Warren. You flipped through the pages of marker and pen, drawings and stories written to go with each drawing.
You looked up at Kit with appreciation, “Thank you for this. Tell them I love it. I’ll read it every day.” You hadn’t wanted to cry. Hadn’t wanted to show Kit how sensitive and soft you were. She’d already watched you cry that night and now here you were with tears in your eyes again that you simply could not hold back.
“If you ever want to stop by and say hi to them you could. Or even just send me or Harry a text to tell them hi. They love you so much, Y/n. You’re so good with them. And I wanted to…” she paused as she looked at you with a sudden weight that hadn’t been there just before, “If anything ever, um…” she wavered her gaze from your face to the area behind your head and back, “Never mind. Just know how much both Harry and I trust you and would love for you to still come around to see them if you ever wanted.”
.           .           .
When you returned to university things started to feel better. You still got caught with feelings of dread and were reminded of the way you felt that night. Of course, Kit had apologized and that was really all you could ask for after it had all been said and done. But it didn’t stop you from zoning out in the shower with thoughts of putting your pink pearl choker on before you went to their home that night. The giddiness you felt beforehand that was torn away from you so viciously only hours later. Now you couldn’t even look at the necklace. It was tucked away in its soft velvet bag in your panties drawer.
And you couldn’t stop thinking of Harry either. You missed him a lot too. But that feeling was mixed with a confusing heartsickness. It wasn’t that you were in love with him or anything. But you had crushed on him for a while and got to experience him in bed and that was. You couldn’t describe it because you tried not to think about it too much. The more you dwelled on the way he handled you and looked at you, the way he spoke to you… it gave you shivers and the unfortunate thing was that you’d never have the pleasure to know that again.
But again, you weren’t in love or anything close to it. It was just a sense of loss more than anything. 
After your first month back at school was down you were invited out to a local bar with some of your classmates and friends. Something fun for everyone to let loose a little. And god did you deserve to blow off a little steam.
You would have preferred a club with some awful dancing and too much liquor, to be honest, but darts in a dark bar with pitchers of beer and friends sounded quite nice too.
Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.
You lost badly at the first game which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.
Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.
“Another pitcher of beer?” The bartender asked, bringing your attention back to him.
“Oh! Yes, please.”
With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then across the bar to the table next to the window.
You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.
He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.
You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?
“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”
After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.
“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.
He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”
“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“
“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.
Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.
“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.
“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”
You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”
He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”
You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”
“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”
You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.
Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.
“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn so he can start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take lessons.”
“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.
Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.
“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”
You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.
“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”
You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.
“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.
You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by,  headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.
“We’re getting divorced,” he said defeatedly as he stared out the window.
“What? Why?”
Harry took a deep breath and looked at you, “She wants more than I can give her. She needs to be with women, she said. And…” he gulped and looked back out the window, “… she said she couldn’t ever look at me the same after that night. Said I’d never be able to have that with her.”
You kept your brows pinched together as you listened to him. It broke your heart that things had fallen apart for them. That it had all been too much.
“But I thought you two were happy. There was never any indication before that something was wrong.”
He nodded, “I thought so too. But she couldn’t get passed it and she said she’d been thinking about it for a long time. Before we even thought of having you join,” he glanced at you before looking down at his glass, “She’s been needing something else for a while. I never knew. I thought it was enough. I knew she missed women and that kind of softness in bed but I had no idea that it affected her so much. To me, her confession was sudden. But supposedly she’s been keeping it in for a long time.”
Without even thinking you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”
Harry looked down at your small hand covering his and up to your eyes, “She said that when she apologized to you she felt free to finally be herself. I was blindsided. Then last week she told me she was going to go on a date with a woman she’s known for years. Ripped me right half. She was gone all night. But I mean, our marriage is over anyway.”
You gently smoothed your thumb over his knuckles and kept your eyes on his face.
“So I offered her a divorce and told her I can’t tolerate her dating someone if I’m not involved somehow. She understood that. She told me she hoped I would find someone,” he paused as he sighed to collect his words so they didn’t come out as a surprise to you, “…with whom I could have the kind of chemistry she saw that night between us.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Or if you should. You were well aware of the way you and Harry connected and how natural everything felt with him. But at the same time, you never thought it was much more than just good chemistry. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as more than that.
“Anyway, she’s at home with the boys and I needed to get out and breathe. Figured I’d have a beer or two and then go back home. Sleep in the guest room like I have been. We’re still trying to figure out how to tell the kids.”
You nodded softly, “That’s awful, Harry. I don’t know what to say except I’m so sorry.”
Harry breathed out a laugh through his nostrils and shook his head, “You don’t need to pity me. I’m sad but I’ll be okay. It’s better anyway, I think in the end. She wasn’t fulfilled and part of me knows I wasn’t either. We could have made it work but I don’t think she’d have been happy for much longer. It was only a matter of time I suppose.”
“Y/n! Next game’s about to start. You wanna join?” Arla suddenly interrupted.
You turned to look at her and back to Harry, “This is Harry, and Harry, this is my friend Arla. She and I have two classes together.”
Harry smiled at your friend and looked at you, “I’m just about to finish up. You go and enjoy your night off with your friends.”
You didn’t want to part ways with Harry yet. It felt like you needed to sit with him longer. So you turned to Arla, “I’m gonna pass. But you guys go ahead!”
“Are you sure?” She looked from you to Harry and back to you again.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
When she walked off Harry grabbed your hand, “You don’t have to pity me I said. I’m okay, really. I know this has to be boring for you to sit here listening to me whine about my life. You should go.”
Shaking your head you frowned, “I didn’t want to go, Harry. Thought maybe if you’re leaving anyway I could walk you out. Hug you goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll ever see you again. Or if I see you again…”
Harry tilted his head and nodded, “Okay. Deal. I’ll settle up and be right back.”
You watched Harry make his way to the bar and get his credit card back from the bartender. He was achingly attractive, even doing absolutely nothing, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. And far and away the kindest.
When he returned you stood from the stool and he gestured for you to lead the way to the door. The night air was warm as you turned to look up at Harry.
“I’m parked just up the street,” he jutted his chin in the direction of his car, “It was really nice to see you–“
“I’ll walk with you to your car,” you rushed the words out. You weren’t ready for him to leave. You were certain you’d never see him again and that thought was scarier than insisting you walk him to his car. Maybe just being near him for a few extra moments would make you feel better.
Silently you both walked side by side down the sidewalk toward his car. And when you got to his spot he smiled down at you, “Did you drive here?”
You shook your head, “Shared an Uber with two of my friends.”
He nodded, “Well, Y/n…” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you pulled your arms around his middle and smushed your face against his chest. He squeezed you tight and you squeezed back.
You felt his breath at your temple, “God I’m gonna miss you.”
You tilted your head back to look up at him, “I’m gonna miss you too, Harry.”
The streetlamp that cast the smallest bit of light from across the street flickered off and then sputtered back on again as you kept your eyes locked with Harry’s. You’d miss his eyes and his cologne and how nice he was to you. It felt wrong to simply let him leave.
“Y/n…” Harry spoke softly as he brought a hand up to your face, his fingers slid behind your ear and his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “Can I have one more kiss? If it’s okay?”
Nodding your head you felt his hand pull your face closer to his. He pressed his nose against yours as you fluttered your eyes shut and then felt his lips gently move over yours.
And something inside of you felt like it’d been unlocked as you opened your mouth and let him slip his tongue inside, to which you pressed yours against his and heard him moan.
You gripped his shirt tight and felt him push your back into his car as he caged you in with his arms and his hips pressed against yours. It had all happened so fast but your head was spinning and you both were lost in each other with a hungry kiss and wet lips.
He moved his hand to your neck and wrapped his palm around the front of your throat, keeping his lips attached to yours before he parted with a soft gasp, “Want to hear you say it just one more time f’me, sweet girl. What do you call me?”
You closed your eyes and felt the tips of his fingers squeezing gently at the side of your neck. You knew exactly what he was asking.
“Daddy,” you breathed before you felt his warm lips slot between yours again. He moaned deeply and you clung to his back in hopes of him staying. You didn’t want this to be it.
When you shifted your hips he lowered a hand to your thigh and pulled it upward, tucking himself in closer.
It turned out, that one more kiss wasn’t just any old kiss. Wasn’t just something you could pull away from once his lips smeared against yours, once his tongue lapped against your tongue. You held him tight through his shirt and he kept your thigh hitched over his hip and his hand at your neck as his mouth moved with yours under the flickering streetlamp.
When he pulled back and looked down at you, you tightened your fingers around his shirt, “Do you want to come over? To my place?” You couldn’t let the moment getaway. Couldn’t let Harry just leave like that. You also couldn’t believe you’d asked him over. But it was that or watch him drive away and never see him again.
Harry pulled his hand off your neck and softly tucked his fingers to the back of your head, “Really?”
You nodded and raised your brows, suddenly feeling the heat of embarrassment, “If you want. I mean you don’t–“
Your words were swallowed by Harry’s mouth over yours again. Soft lips and wet tongue making you ache and filling you with just enough gall to ask for what you’d wanted. And that was to have him in your apartment. Alone. You just wanted a little bit more. Before it was all over and forgotten and in the past. Before the moment was just something you’d look back on in the future with a tinge of sadness but with a smile on your face.
Harry opened his passenger side door for you to get inside and you texted Jax quickly explaining your sudden absence with an apology. You could explain to your friends later.
You felt Harry scoop your hand into his as he started his car and pulled out into the street. The song on the radio had just come to an end and a commercial began to play, “You’ll have to remind me of your address,” Harry glanced at you before looking back at the street.
“Oh! Yeah! Of course. Um… Just take this street to Caldwell and take a right and then we’ll go to the bridge and merge onto the highway but you’ll only be on for one exit and then the first right off the access road. Then it’s like two miles and the apartments are on the left.”
Harry laughed, “Maybe you can tell me as we approach where I need to turn. I’m a little wound up right now. Might not remember all that,” he grinned.
You were feeling your nerves begin to bubble with each mile closer to your apartment. But Harry was trying to keep you calm, you could tell.
“So, you told me once you don’t have roommates. Is that still the case?”
You nodded and looked at his handsome side profile, “Yeah. No roommates. It’s only a one bedroom. My uncle is the apartment manager and so I get rent super cheap otherwise I wouldn’t be able to have a place on my own.” “That’s nice. Looking forward to seeing it.”
Biting your lip you looked out the window and felt a pinch of anxiety. You knew what was probably about to happen and you’d welcome it! But then after that what? Would he stick around? Would you see him again? Would Kit be mad?
“What are your plans for tomorrow, Y/n?”
You released your bottom lip from your teeth, “I have a paper due on Monday so I planned on getting my sources and starting the outline. I have it mostly written but now I need to back up what I’m saying and that means I’ll probably wind up needing to rewrite some portions. But that’s my plan for tomorrow and Sunday. Get that finished up. What about you?” You looked back at him as you asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon I’m taking the boys to that Science and Play place. Not sure if you ever heard of it?” He peeked at you quickly.
“I have! I’ve actually been there,” you laughed and Harry softly rubbed his thumb along yours.
“William loves it. He’s been begging to go back. And they have a restaurant there so we’ll make a whole afternoon of it. Let the boys explore. Kit’s going out tomorrow and I don’t want the boys to see her getting all dressed up so I’m going to stay out of the house with them as long as possible.”
You nodded, “That makes sense. I’m sorry, Harry.”
He shook his head, “Don’t be. I’m suddenly not feeling so down about it all right now,” he squeezed your hand as you directed him onto the highway.
You smiled to yourself at his comment and understood what he meant exactly.
After Harry parked in the guest parking spot, you led him to your apartment up a flight of metal stairs to the second floor. You were normally very tidy and neat but you’d been a bit out of sorts since that fateful night and plus getting back into the swing of the new semester meant you had a few things strewn about which all came into view once you turned on the light.
“Sorry about the mess,” you gestured at your couch and the small chair next to it with your clothes draped over the arms.
But Harry didn’t seem to care as he pulled you into his arms and cupped your face, bringing his lips down to yours. You kissed him back with as much heat as he was putting into the kiss. You grasped onto the lats of his back as he moved you with him slowly until he pulled you into his lap on the couch and your fervor only increased.
You ran your fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down your jaw and then to your neck, pecking gently along the front of your throat and back up to your lips, “Loved when you wore that little pearl choker.”
He drew his hands along the outside of your jeans-clad thighs and you pulled away to look at his beautiful face, “I still have it.”
“Mmm… It goes with your innocent act so perfectly,” he grinned, “But I know you’re not innocent, baby. Far from it.”
You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke and you felt that recognizable hardness under his pants.
“Why don’t you go put that pretty thing on your neck for Daddy and take off everything else?”
You were quick to push yourself off his lap and go into your bedroom. You smiled as you pulled the choker from its velvet bag and happily put it back onto your neck. You thought you’d never want it on again, but if Harry wanted it on, you would absolutely wear it.
You pulled your shirt off and began to unbutton your pants before pushing them down your legs. You hadn’t done much upkeep on yourself other than just shaving around your bikini line to keep it neat, but you knew better than to start rethinking everything now. If you had a bit of a bush so be it. You were mostly certain Harry wouldn’t mind.
When you unhooked your bra Harry was standing in your doorway watching you. His hands slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he watched you peel your panties down your legs.
His shirt hung open as he stepped in front of you and cupped your face. His eyes wandered over your breasts and up to your choker before setting them back on your face, “Do you know how hard you make me, Y/n? This little thing on your neck,” he lowered his thumb to the pearls and pressed on it, “…these sexy lips,” he dipped in and kissed you as he lowered both hands to your tits, “…and these gorgeous breasts.”
You smoothed your hands over his warm chest as his mouth covered yours with lazy, sloppy kisses.
“Want you to bend over the bed. Show me that pretty ass. I think you need a little spanking for making Daddy wait a month and a half to see you again.”
You moaned and then swallowed as you turned around and draped your upper half over your unmade bed, baring your full ass to him.
You felt his hands cupping your bottom and smoothing up and down to your thighs as he cooed at you, “God damn, baby. Look at you. So fucking sweet and naughty for me,” the first strike against your bottom came unexpectedly and immediately after he spoke.
He brought his other palm down on your other side and you yelped and turned to look at him over your shoulder.
He lifted his gaze from your bum to your eyes and smirked at you as he smacked you again. You dropped your mouth open and groaned when he did it again and again until you squeezed your eyes closed and stuffed your face into the mattress as he left stinging handprints on your backside.
When you felt him move away you lifted and turned to look at him behind you as he removed his clothes. He watched you with dark eyes, his sight moving from your bum to your face, “On your knees. Face me,” he motioned for you to move.
You brought yourself to your knees and looked up at him, your eyes big and round and sweet. He licked his lips and ran his knuckles over your temple, “Gotta burn this image into my brain. The sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He stroked himself slowly, his cock was already fully thickened and mouthwatering. You looked from his big dick up to his face as he dragged a soft thumb over your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you opened up for him.
“Keep your mouth open like this,” he pressed down on your tongue, making your jaw widen, “There we go. Need space for me in there. You want Daddy’s cock inside your mouth?”
You nodded and gurgled a yes which made him grin proudly, “I know you do. You like having your face fucked, don’t you? Little naughty girl desperate to choke and make Daddy happy.”
“Yes. Please…” you panted and opened your mouth wider for him.
Harry smeared his cock over your lips. His warm tip dragged against the soft skin of your mouth as you poked your tongue out to dab at his slit.
“Go on then. Suck.” He prodded himself forward a bit and you wrapped your lips around his smooth tip and grasped at this base. Swirling your tongue around the skin under his crown you pushed yourself down on him and pulled back, sucking in and dragging your tongue along the way before edging back down again, trying to get him as deep as possible.
You’d given head before. You had never much enjoyed it. Felt it was more a means to an end sometimes. But with Harry standing over you and cradling the back of your head, his eyes on your mouth as you took him on your tongue you realized you loved giving head. Maybe it was just Harry, though. Maybe you only loved sucking his cock because it was attached to him and you wanted to please him in every way you possibly could.
“Fuck,” Harry moaned breathily as you looked up at him with your puffy lips parted around him, moving up and down, sucking and licking, hollowing your cheeks every time you pulled back to his tip just before pushing him further into your mouth.
When you put a hand on his ball sac and softly rolled it in your palm Harry threw his head back and panted breathily, “Oh my god, baby.”
You continued your work as your eyes became blurred with tears and your chin wet with drool. You stuffed yourself down over him until his tip was poked into your throat and you gagged around him. When you repeated that move, causing you to swallow around him and gag lightly, still gently massaging his balls he pulled you off and lifted you to stand up.
“Enough for now. Think you’ve earned a reward for that.” He gently walked you backward to your bed and then gestured for you to get on just as he climbed on and pulled you over his lap again. Harry laid down, bringing you with him, and kissed you. You could feel his solid, damp cock against your pussy as you kissed him and he groped your bottom, moving you up and down against him slowly, your pussylips pushed apart and dragged over his cock.
Suddenly he pushed at you, making you sit upright, your hands on his pecs as he cupped your tits in his hands, “I want you to ride my face. Get yourself off.”
You laughed and looked at him, “How should I…”
But you let out a small squeak as he pulled at you and dragged you up his chest and over his face, gripping onto your hips and making you settle your pussy over his lips. He began kissing and licking right away, his eyes on you.
“Ohhh…” you placed your hands on the top of the headboard as you looked down and watched Harry under you. It felt so good having him naked in your bed. Having his eyes on you. Having his hands on your ass. His lips on your pussy.
You slowly tilted your hips forward and felt the sparkle of your clit being pressed into his mouth. Harry held you down tight and lapped at you, concentrating on your clit as he sucked on it.
Harry’s fingers dug into your soft bum and you felt as he moved one hand, reaching further back and dipping a finger into your pussy before smearing your arousal up and over your anus. You gasped as you stared down at his eyes. He softly circled the spot as he continued working on your clit with his mouth.
You’d never had anything done to your bottom before, but if Harry wanted to, you’d let him. You were pretty much all yes and please when it came to him anyway. You’d happily let him do what he wanted.
But he never pressed in. He only pushed at your hole and circled over the outside with a wet finger and it had you reeling.
“Daddy, oh my god!”
Harry moved his hand away and put it back on your hips so he could pull you down and move you back and forth over his face. You felt like you were in such a vulnerable position, naked, sitting on his mouth the way you were. There was part of you that worried you were crushing him but he only pulled you against his mouth harder, his brows furrowing as he tried to draw an orgasm out of you.
He moaned against your clit and drew it into his mouth, letting his tongue flick against it. The little wet noises coming from his mouth against you sounded dirty with the backdrop of your loud moaning.
Sometimes you were able to force an orgasm from yourself if you held your vibrator against your clit. Even if you weren’t worked up at all. Just for a quick release.
But you were definitely worked up with Harry. Wet and puffy and the way he was mouthing and pulling at your clit with his lips you couldn’t stop your climax even if you wanted to. It dripped from your cunt all over his mouth as you loudly cried out. Your thighs quivered around his head as you leaned forward and felt wave after wave of your release.
Harry kept his hands tight on you, holding you close so he could make sure you were feeling everything he gave you.
“Fffffuuuu!” You were feeling overwhelmed as he continued sucking you in and holding you down over him. You whined and tried lifting your hips up but he swatted at your ass before gripping your thigh and doubling down on your clit.
“Oooh ssssshhit! Ffuck!” You were trembling uncontrollably as you white-knuckled the headboard and looked down at the scene of the crime. Harry’s head between your thighs with his eyes on yours and his wet nose was lewd.
But then something snapped and the overwhelming feeling started to melt into yet another orgasm that was drawn from you without warning. You cried and whimpered as Harry let go of your thighs and put his hands at your waist to keep you steady. Your whole body trembled as you tried to hold onto the headboard but you were feeling out of your mind and blurry.
When he moved you to your back you were still coming down from the back-to-back orgasms and your brain was trying to fight its way back to the surface of clarity and awareness. Harry lay next to you and kissed your neck, his fingers trailing up your tummy and over your breasts and to your little choker, “You okay, Y/n?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Your chest was still rising and falling heavily as you nodded, “I’m so good.”
You felt Harry’s thigh draped over the tops of yours as he trailed soft kisses up your neck and to your jaw, “You are so good.”
Reaching across your body you placed your fingers in Harry’s hair, “I want you to come, Daddy.”
Harry laughed out a puff of breath against your jaw and lifted his face to look at you, “Oh you do? You’re so sweet, honey,” his voice came out raspy and deep as he kneed his way between your legs, pushing your thighs apart and fitting himself comfortably over you, pulling at your knees to bend them up so your feet were flat.
He smiled down at you, breaking the lusty moment, “You don’t happen to have a condom do you?”
You thought for a moment. You were sure you didn’t, “I don’t really think I do. But,” you gulped and flexed your fingers nervously into the skin of his back, “I’m on birth control, so…”
Harry pursed his lips in pause as he kept his eyes on yours, “Okay,” he dipped down to kiss you, “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Want to feel you,” you nodded.
You were still so wet between your legs. You could feel Harry’s length easily slide against your pussy as he shifted himself down and pressed the top of his thighs into the back of yours, pushing your legs up slightly.
He placed his forearms down on the bed, caging you in, and pressed his mouth to yours softly. You felt him nudging at your opening so you lifted your hips, pushing against him as his tongue licked at the crease of your lips. The moment you felt his bulbous tip press through the tight muscle of your opening you gasped, dropping your mouth wide open. The feel of him entering you slowly with the weight of his hips against yours had you melting.
“That feels so good, doesn’t it baby?”
You whimpered with a nod, “Yes, Daddy…”
“Fuck I can hear how wet you are for me,” he pulled back and then pressed in. “Gonna make me come so hard, sweet girl.”
The deeper he went in the more you felt your body floating away. There was no question that Harry had a big dick. And you knew he was aware of this as well because he was gentle with you as he inched his way in and pulled back slowly.
When he’d finally poked in as deep as possible and his balls were tucked into your ass he sloppily kissed you as he began to fuck into you with slow and languid strokes. Gushy and hot and unforgiving. Even as slow as he was going every time his head nudged into your cervix you hissed into his mouth. But there was something about the little ache that you loved. Probably because it was Harry.
His pelvis dragged against your clit every time he pushed in and you felt his hand clutch the back of your neck as he licked into your mouth.
Your pussy was so full. So happy. You could feel yourself open and stretch around him. It had your head spinning.
Harry grunted as he lifted himself and softly pressed his nose against yours, “Feel that, baby? Feel Daddy’s cock sliding inside of your tight pussy? You’re gripping me so good.”
His slow rhythmic thrusts grew faster as he let go of the back of your neck and pushed himself up, palms on the mattress. His plunges were deeper and stronger and his thighs and back were flexing as he worked himself in and out, faster little by little.
“Shit! Daddy!” You shakily yelped at the faster cadence and the way he was now punching into your cervix, “It’s so fucking deep,” you gritted your teeth and threw your neck back.
“Is it too deep for your little pussy, honey? Huh?” He rutted his hips in as he asked, punctuating what he meant.
You inhaled sharply when he plunged in again, grinding his hips against yours and stuffing himself into the hilt, “Oh my god, yes! But I need it!”
Harry groaned as kept himself balls deep and sat back onto his haunches, grabbing onto your thighs to keep you in place.
With his hands at the back of your knees, he began to slide into you in long, heavy strokes until he was smacking into you just enough that your tits were bouncing and your bed was creaking in time with his thrusts.
Harry licked his thumb and lowered it to your clit which had you jolting with a small cry. Your clit was super sensitive after the way he’d handled you moments earlier.
He watched his cock move through your hole, your pussy wrapped around him tight and coating him in your cream. He moaned as his thumb was lathered in your arousal from how he was slipping it back and forth over your puffy clit.
Your small grunts and squeaks increased the wetter you got and the harder the mattress bounced under you. The patting of his skin against yours was rhythmic and bumped you upward every time he slammed into you.
You started to see stars, you could swear it as your limbs began to tingle and disintegrate. Harry was grunting and moaning at the view of your pussy wrapped around him tight and the way it felt to be swallowed by you, warm and wet and clenching.
Harry gasped and paused his strokes as he breathed heavily. His chest was red as leaned back over you and kissed you so sweetly it took your breath away. You both moaned in synch as your tongues wound around each other and wet lips slobbered together when he began to drill into you again, slower but with muscle.
You started to quiver with his chest pressed to yours and his cock deep inside of you, his pelvis grinding against yours.
“There you go… let me feel that pussy coming. Oh, baby that feels good doesn’t it,” he rutted into you as he spoke against your lips.
You nearly howled with your third orgasm. It was one thing to come from clitoral stimulation but quite another to have your clit being smeared into while having a big cock nudging in and out of you as you lost control of all functions.
Harry watched your face as you scrunched your brow and chanted Daddy and he drove into you in solid, squelching plunges. His cock made its way over your spongy insides repeatedly, hitting that one spot with his big crown over and over again until you were spent. Done for. There was nothing left for you to give.
Harry kissed you softly, stuffing himself into you gently, and moaned, “M’gonna come baby but I’m gonna pull out okay? Where do you want it sweet girl?”
You peeled your eyes open and exhaled softly, “In my mouth. Let me have it in my mouth, Daddy,” you nodded as you gripped his shoulders.
Harry stopped his motions and looked at you, almost as if in awe as he ticked his head back in forth like he was in disbelief, “Yeah?”
You nodded as he plunged in a few more times, pressing you upward, his eyes on yours as his moaning progressively got softer and you swore whiney even.
He pushed himself up and pulled out, taking his cock in his hand and pumping himself, smoothing your creamy arousal around his shaft and smothering his palm. He took his other hand and pulled you up by your neck and brought your mouth over his cock as he sat back onto his haunches.
You quickly lowered your mouth over him, tasting your juices as you sucked him in and then felt him begin to release down your throat in spurts. He coughed out a loud groan as he rutted upward, his tip slipping down your throat with his hand at the back of your head, “Fuck!” He panted and you felt his thighs shaking as he rolled his hips upward.
You swallowed and gurgled him down the best you could, gripping the base of his shaft in your hand and sucking while swirling your tongue around him until his cock stopped throbbing and pumping and he was softly gasping and breathing.
You licked your way up and popped your mouth off of him but you were in a daze.
Harry smoothed his lips against yours and easily laid you down on your back, “Just lay here and rest. I’ll be right back sweetheart.”
You closed your eyes and hummed to yourself at the taste in your mouth and the way your body was buzzing with satisfaction.
Opening your eyes just as Harry walked back into the room he was buck naked, cock swinging, chest slightly damp, and impossibly strong thighs. A god really. You’d never get over his body.
He held a glass of water out to you and had brought in a damp towel to wipe you up. You sat up to take a few gulps of water before he delicately pushed you to lie back down. The towel was warm and it felt so good on your sensitive skin.
Harry laid next to you and kissed your cheek and then nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath falling over your skin, “You’re amazing, baby. I’m never gonna forget tonight. So good for me.”
You sighed and turned to face him as he gently dabbed between your legs, “Kiss me, Daddy.”
His grin made the edges of his eyes crinkle, “Happily.” He pressed his mouth against yours and you both kissed soft and lazy as he tossed the damp towel to your floor and wrapped you in his arms.
You couldn’t be sure of how he kissed you but when he was helping you out of bed and speaking softly to you about having a bath with him so he could hold you longer you felt wobbly still.
With your eyes closed and your back against his chest in the warm water, he started talking. And as you felt more aware and conscious you realized he was sort of spilling his guts to you.
“I was so sad when I woke up this morning. But seeing you and all this,” he squeezed your arms, “I think I can breathe now. You made everything feel better, Y/n.”
You listened closely as he continued, his chest vibrating as he spoke, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. And I realized something too. Tonight. Just now. I think Kit was right. You and I do really have good chemistry. We fit so well together don’t we?”
You hummed and nodded with a small smile on your face.
He sighed and pulled his arms around you, “Don’t want this night to end. Want to just stay here with you, holding you like this.”
Your heart began to pound as you started to feel his words. You knew what he meant and you felt it. You could feel his scruff on your temple as he rubbed his face in toward yours, “You feeling better now?”
You nodded and turned toward his face, “Yes. So much better. You make me feel so good.”
Harry slowly blinked as he kept his gaze on yours, “You make me feel so good too.”
When the water grew tepid Harry wrapped you in a towel and tightly hugged you as he walked you to your room and made you drink more water.
He took your towel off and helped you into your bed and pulled your blankets over your naked body before he began to pick up his clothes from the floor.
You pouted and sat up, “Please don’t go. Will you stay here tonight? I need you here with me. I think I just…” you felt tears in your eyes as you looked upward to will them away.
Harry dropped his pants to the floor and sat on your bed, cupping your face to look at you, “I didn’t want to assume you wanted me to stay. But I’ll stay tonight. I’d love to stay with you.
So he did. He held you in his arms, pet your back, and kissed your forehead until you had drifted away into a deep sleep.
The morning was slow with the first bit of sun shining through the cracks of your window. You were burning hot in Harry’s arms so you poked your head up and breathed as you wiggled out of his hold.
“Where you going?” His groggy morning voice was too sexy to make sense.
“I have to pee,” you laughed as he released your wrist and you quickly padded to your bathroom.
When you got back into your room Harry was already dressed and running a hand through his hair as he looked at himself in your mirror.
Turning to face you he grinned at your Pokemon robe, “Cute. You’re always so fucking cute, Y/n.”
You looked down at the robe and shrugged at him with a small smile.
“I have to go. I hate to leave so quickly but I’ve got to get home to the boys and get them ready for our little outing today.”
You nodded, “Yeah. That’s okay. I understand.”
Harry tilted his head as he stepped in front of you and pulled you in for a hug. It felt like one of those this-is-it hugs. It felt so final.
“Y/n,” Harry pulled back to look at you, “You’re amazing. If you ever need anything or just want to say hi, you know how to reach me.”
You walked him to your door and watched as he made his way down the steps and out of your sight. Your final view of the only man you were sure you’d never get over.
.           .           .
“This is cute,” your cousin reached out to touch your pink pearl choker as you stuffed your bag with clothes.
You paused what you were doing and placed your fingers over the necklace with a smile, “Thank you.”
The necklace gave you warm and happy memories now. As much as you wished something could have happened between you and Harry you knew that just wasn’t possible. He was going through a divorce, had kids, a broken heart… But your last night together had mended you wholly. You knew it was something you’d never forget and you were grateful to him. You just hoped that maybe it did him some good too. Maybe it was something he took with him that made him smile like it did you.
The days and weeks after had been hard for you. Often you’d pick up your phone and compose a text, only to read it over and over again before deleting it. It was hard to let him go completely but now it was Christmas Eve and you felt like you were on the other side of it. Mostly. You still thought of him every day but it was easier.
“You have such good taste. You’ll have to go with me shopping sometime.” Chandy spoke as she plopped down on your bed next to your bag.
“That sounds fun actually.”
Chandy had come over to your apartment to pick you up since she lived so close. You were heading to her family home an hour out of the city. It was tradition for the whole family to get together at your aunt and uncle’s lake home. It was gorgeous in the winter with their soaring windows and snow all around.
You stacked presents into two grocery bags and slung your overnight bag over your shoulder, “Ready?”
“Yes! First, I have to use your bathroom then we’ll hit the road.” Chandy rushed off.
You sat on the edge of the arm of your couch and pulled out your phone to see a text that had your heart squeezing and throbbing.
It was a picture of Harry and the boys in front of a Christmas tree and his text read:
Merry Christmas, Y/n. We miss you!
You quickly typed out a response.
Merry Christmas! I miss you guys so much!
You placed your hand over your heart to calm yourself and the sudden rush of all your feelings you thought had begun to fade away came rushing back.
You closed your eyes after you watched your sent text go from delivered to read.
When you opened your eyes and saw that he was typing something your entire body grew hot as you stared intently at your phone.
“Okay! Ready!” Chandy chirped.
You stood up with your phone in your hand, “Uh, I’m gonna just go to the bathroom too real quick!”
You closed the bathroom door and felt the vibration from an incoming text. A wide grin on your face.
What are you doing for New Year’s?
As fast as your fingers allowed you responded.
No plans. What about you?
It was the longest wait while you watched the bouncing dots stop and restart. A full minute of waiting as you flushed the toilet (to pretend you’d been using it so Chandy didn’t wonder) and then washed your hands, staring at your screen.
The boys and I will be making a very “special” dinner and then we’ll ring in the New Year with sparkling grape juice and The Poseidon Adventure. They each invited a friend and told me I had to invite someone too.
Drying your hands off, you bit your lip and typed.
That sounds so fun. Who will you invite?
You chuckled to yourself. You were almost certain he was inviting you but you couldn’t be sure until you saw his response.
I’m inviting YOU. Wasn’t it obvious? ; )
Well, in that case, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. <3
.           .           .
You had no idea what to expect for New Year’s but you and Harry hadn’t stopped texting since he reached out. The whole time you were with your family on Christmas you kept your phone by your side so you wouldn’t miss a single message.
You dressed casually for the New Year’s Eve party at Harry’s because there were going to be 4 ten-year-old boys there. And you learned the “special” dinner they were making was grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, and for dessert chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It honestly sounded amazing.
You also learned that Kit had moved out, leaving the house to Harry and they were on very good terms. They would split custody of the boys 50 / 50. And that technically they were still married but the divorce was moving along quickly because there were very few things that needed to be worked out. They seemed to be on the same page.
You parked in the street in front of the Styles house and noticed lights strung up on the columns of the porch and a Christmas wreath on the front door.
The moment you closed the door to your car you saw the front door open and Warner and William busted out and ran toward you, “Y/n!! You came!” – “Dad said you were coming!”
They both hugged you, one on each side and you could have cried. You hadn’t seen them since August and it was already December. You felt like they’d grown bigger in those few months.
They started to pull you toward the house but you laughed and stopped, “Hold on! I have presents for everyone in the car I have to get.”
You opened your trunk and pulled out two bags that had presents inside and when you closed it Harry was there in the yard watching you with a soft grin. You felt blood rush to the apples of your cheeks at the sight of him and your heart throbbed in your chest.
“Hi, Y/n,” his dimples winked awake and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he stepped forward to take your bags, handing one to Warner and one to William, “Take these inside and pour Y/n a glass of the New Year’s mocktail we made. We’ll be right in.”
You clasped your hands behind your back as you let your eyes fall over his outfit. He was wearing a red chunky knit sweater with a big green Christmas tree in the center that had gold and silver balls all over it, “Love the sweater.”
Harry looked down at it and back at you, “Love that you’re here.”
The heat that spread over your face stretched down your neck and your back as he stepped in closer. He was far too handsome for his own good and all the memories you had with him were flooding your brain with inappropriate thoughts but also with fondness and excitement.
“Thank you for inviting me.” You looked up at him as he stood directly in front of you.
Harry stared down at you for a moment, his eyes blinking and his pink lips twitching tremulously, “I know I look ridiculous in this,” he gestured at his sweater looking down at it and then back at you, “and this isn’t the most romantic reunion but I wanted to ask you before the festivities started if you’d like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”
Your lips parted as the question floated around in the air between you two. You couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date.
“A date? Like…” You bit your lip and looked down at the ground and back up at Harry, “A date date?”
Harry smiled widely and nodded, “A date date.”
You exhaled a small laugh and nodded, “Harry, I’d love that. Yes.”
Suddenly his arms were wound around your middle and you squealed as he lifted you from the ground and spun you in his arms. The moment your feet hit the grass he gave you a quick kiss, cupping your face in his hands, and then parted as he looked back at the house.
Harry let you go and smirked at you as he took your hand to lead you to the house whispering, “Now I know this sweater is pure sex but you’re just gonna have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”
You laughed and squeezed his hand, “It’s gonna be hard but I think I can behave.”
Harry stopped and turned his face toward you, his warm mouth at your ear, “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here.”
A/N: I hope you guys loved this! Let me know your thoughts please!!
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oscalesoffeeling · 2 years
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ya know what. sometimes i feel guilty for needing my f/os to feel at all safe and secure and happy and loved and good enough and content etc etc in my life :(
#like i'm Not a big tough guy.#i'm just not. i'm a sickly little guy. like literally i'm super fucking sick all the time...#and i like rely on them so much mentally. ya know. i can't sleep without them bc i'm so scared of sleep and sleeping and the dark and#being alone. i hate being alone so much. it makes having alters of at least one (don't ask unless we're Actually friends)#of my f/os. bc he's usually fucking around towards the front taking care of me all day. but that has its trials and tribulations too. guy#in my head is always there (/pos and /neg. we have multitudes.)#and idk. i feel. invalidated in my masculinity *balloon deflating soundbite* bc of it ngl. that i'm the weak feminine one in every#relationship i'm in. that's some shit i gotta sort through myself. internalized toxic masculinity and transphobia.#bc it indicates nothing of who i actually am and how my relationships actually work. i'm just a feminine guy ya know.#and i see things all the time that are like (not vague bc i couldn't name names if i tried) 'all these femme shippers are detracting from#the masc shippers by being all frail and petite and feminine and reliant on their f/os!!!' as if being frail and petite and feminine and#reliant is the problem and not the sheer amount of attention more femme aligned shippers get over masc shippers in the community.#like men can be frail and petite and reliant and cry cry cry and yell and gush 24/7 about their f/os and still be masc.#the problem is when we discuss self shippers at large we usually picture a much more cishet white female crowd than what actually exists#bc those kinds of people tend to get more attention.#i'm sure there's a lot to unpack there about what makes them popular but i would prefer not to see posts that shit on#people for being frail and emotional and dependent. bc i am those things and i'm a man who is those things g-ddamnit.#i've only seen like maybe three or four posts like that but c'mon....#ellie rambles about stuff#/vent
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months
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🎃 A Warm Body
Oviposition CW: egg laying Monster!Reader based on an Anon❤️ from a while ago, yandere!human, reader with male and female reproductive organs
Growling in frustration, (Reader's) long claws carved into the concrete flooring of the room they were kept prisoner.
Their swollen body ached with how full they were, going mad with how desperate they were for release. As soon as they emerged from the Earth to reproduce, a human shot them with enough tranquilizers to put down a herd of elephants, which is why (Reader) now found themselves in what was essentially a concrete box, locked in by a large steel vault. (Reader) cried out in need, craving release.
The metal door spun obnoxiously, multiple mechanisms whirring as it unlocked and squealed open. The man who shot (Reader) quickly entered, shutting the door closed again behind him. There were so many things he wanted to say, an entire romantic monologue planned for the creature he had spent his entire life obsessing over, researching and hunting despite no one else believing in (Reader's) existence. But before he could open his mouth, (Reader) had him by the leg, dragging him down beneath them.
(Reader) ignored the man's happy squeaks, ripping his clothes off to find a suitable hole. His face glowed with heat, blushing as he pitifully attempted to cover up his body. But his small, human body was no match for (Reader's), effortlessly holding the man up by his hips, unfazed by his weak flailing. With his ass presented to (Reader) they couldn't help groaning, nearly bursting just from the thought of being able to mate.
They pushed the man onto their large depositor, screaming in pleasure at how snuggly he fit on them. (Reader) slid him against them, animalistic grunts bouncing off the concrete walls as they mercilessly fucked him.
His smile and incoherent babbling was cute, but (Reader) didn't really care. It didn't matter that it felt good for their abductor, that he was in complete and utter bliss. Nor did they appreciate his erect penis twitching with his building climax, about ready to cum without touching it. The only thing that mattered was coating the insides of his ass with their protective slime, forming a type of pocket to protect their eggs from his bodily functions.
Squelching sounds filled the air as he slapped into (Reader's) pelvis wetly, creating strings of fluids stretching between their bodies. (Reader) could feel that they had pumped enough nesting liquid into him, with how round he was already becoming.
The man erratically spasmed as the first egg entered his asshole, hitting his prostate on the way in. Cum hit the concrete with the next egg, off-white droplets landing pathetically by (Reader's) feet and dripping onto his own face from the doubled over position.
But (Reader) wasn't done. Eggs continued pumping into his body, brushing past the overstimulated man's sensitive spot, bringing him to tears as his post ejaculated body was overwhelmed, fucking deep into his aching hole.
He couldn't stand or run away, his legs weak from his orgasm and his body tired from the sudden bloating from his unnatural impregnation. (Reader) carefully pulled out after finishing, satisfied from laying their first brood. The man wasn't a bad host for their offspring, still smiling through his drool and tears. His full body was cradled against (Reader's) protectively, feeling content with the new life laid inside of him.
(Reader) may have only needed a warm body, but they didn't mind using this one for the rest of their mating needs ❤️
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
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Skin and Bones
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Cassian x Fem!Reader
Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.
Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing
Based of this ask
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The teasing had become a common occurrence.
It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.
Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.
He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.
Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.
You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.
And that was saying something.
"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."
Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.
"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.
Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."
Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."
Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.
"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"
"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."
Mari was right. You did look incredible.
Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.
With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.
They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.
Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?
Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.
Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."
"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.
"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."
"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.
"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."
That's it. Y/N.
Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.
But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.
"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."
Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."
"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."
Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."
A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.
"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.
Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.
Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.
She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.
Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.
Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.
"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"
It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.
Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."
"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.
It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"
His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."
Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."
You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.
His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"
You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.
It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
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lmao I fell 4’10 anon, I’m 4’11 and some tall people are genuinely scary to me cause I’m just “huh???”
I feel you! I'm like 5' and I just got back to college...I legit forget that tall people exist! I spend 3 weeks at home surrounded by my short family...fuck you mean I have to look up at people?? I can only imagine Konig going home from deployment and forgetting that short people exist. He spent the last two months around people well above 6', and even though height isn't a requirement in the mercenary forces, even his female colleagues are all rather tall. Que Konig returning home and not bending his neck low enough, surprised that there isn't anyone in his line of sight...and his short darling getting frustrated because he is not even looking down at her!! He is straight up not looking at all!! He only notices you when you already let go of a frustrated sigh and start punching his guts. You're the only one who can punch him like this and live - given that, actually, you're too weak to bring him pain even if you try with all your might. Konig finds you simply adorable - and he loves to tease you, of course. Poor thing, you're actually getting the shortest end of the stick here...with your boyfriend constantly picking you up and literally putting you on the highest places in the house - he literally bought and installed a few tall shelves that have nothing but some plushies and meaningless things that can be thrown away when he wants to make you feel tall - or when you two fight and he wants to remind you how much you depend on him. He is an asshole, yes - but he is your asshole, need he remind you? Poor, dumb thing, you really have no idea what you're doing to him - he would give you the whole world if you'd ask but, instead, you want him to respect you?? Really? When he is more than a feet taller than you?
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 4 months
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❤ Yandere Hater ❤
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▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Incel vibes; Hate; Noncon (in his imagination cause he's delulu).
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◾ Yandere!Hater who fucking hates your guts. Frankly doesn’t understand all the hype surrounding you.
You’re mediocre, at best. Nothing that special about you so he fails to understand why you’re getting increasingly popular these days.
You're not intelligent. You’re not talented. You’re not funny.
Heck, you’re not even that pretty.
Fuck, you’re actually nothing interesting. 
Just another brainless bimbo on her 5 minutes of fame. 
◾ Yandere!Hater that spends hours scrolling your social media, spamming your posts with countless mean comments, hoping you see them. You deserve them and he hopes you cry reading them. Worthless bitch.
Acting all sweet and delicate in front of cameras, but he knows better. You’re just another stuck-up assed girl.
Probably feeding on attention and money while being a slut to every rich guy that you get a chance to meet. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who runs an online account - dedicated to you, obviously - where he venomously spreads hate against you. It’s his little safe-haven, where he gets to expose your fake ass to the world.
Actively targets and attacks anyone that dares leave those disgustingly cute supportive comments under your posts. Gets involved in so many Discord and Twitter arguments that he’s lost count on how many times his account has been banned.
It’s not his fault that your fans are stupid simps. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who thinks the absolute worst about you. You’re an ugly arrogant bitch.  But that doesn’t stop him from rubbing one off while his eyes are glued to that Instagram photo you recently uploaded - you’re at the beach, a huge smile on your face and your body only covered by the skimpy tiny bikini. 
He furiously touches himself at the sight, imagination drifting towards a scenario where he runs into you at the beach.
You’ve briefly mentioned in an interview about your fear of the ocean, never having learned how to swim. Dumb you. 
So he thinks about your plastic smile quickly disappearing as his hand grabs you by the hair, violently dragging towards the water. You seem pretty weak, especially given he has a strong toned body when compared to yours. 
His cock twitches at the thought of you desperately fighting, begging him with tears shining in your eyes. He’d tame you rather easily, a mean slap or two making you shut up.
He’d pull you into the water, ignoring you as you hyperventilate. Push you to the deepest parts of the sea, the ones where only his feet are able to reach, forcing you to cling on to his shoulders for dear life.
You’d cry and whimper, begging him to take you back to the sand. 
But he’d only smile, slipping your bottom off - uncaring of the fact that the waves take away the thin piece of fabric.
So what if everyone sees you half-naked when you get back on land? You’re a slut and everyone should know that. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who almost cums at the thought of telling you to ride him - right there on the water - or otherwise he’d just drop you in the water.
Your choice.
You can either ride him quietly as he holds your ass with a tight grip or you can find out how to swim for yourself. He closes his eyes, relishing the climax that runs over him, imagining it’s your tight pussy that brought him to his orgasm, his cum dumped deep in your little cunt. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who pretends like this was one rare occasion that won’t happen again but day after day, he finds himself with a hand down his pants, abusing his cock while imagining fucking you in the most degrading ways that exist. 
◾ Yandere!Hater that gets more and more spiteful of you, which leads to a few disastrous encounters with you in public - only possible thanks to his network of connections with paparazzi - finding you as you go out with friends.
Encounters those that end with him being wrestled away from you by the buffy bodyguards that work for you, while you cower behind your friends, who weakly try protecting you from the eyes of the lunatic who just tried to drag you into his car. 
◾ Yandere!Hater that promises himself to do humanity a favor and take you away from the spotlight, maybe a place in his basement is more appropriate for you.
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celluloidbroomcloset · 6 months
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I was thinking about the idea that homophobia doesn't exist in the world of Our Flag Means Death. I think it's clear that this is not the case, but it is a more complicated issue than what we think of when we discuss straightforward homophobia, and is closely aligned with how the different worlds represented in the show perceive sex, love, and desire.
(Before I get going, I want to be clear that I'm discussing the world of the show itself, not the world of the historical Caribbean in the 18th Century. Our Flag Means Death primarily uses history as a useful lens through which to filter our own time period and the things it wants to discuss, and so only uses history when it serves the show's purposes. These are all just my thoughts - I'm always happy to discuss them!)
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There are two major worlds at play in the show: the English gentry that Stede comes from, and the pirate world. In neither world is homosexuality explicitly treated as illicit or unacceptable, though it is never mentioned or shown in the English world. Most of the homophobia expressed by characters lies in the perceptions of the "right" and "wrong" ways of performing gender and sexual roles. I talked about this a bit here in regards to Izzy's homophobia.
In both the English and the pirate worlds, Stede's gender presentation is openly questioned. Stede is a fop - not necessarily a sexual marker one way or the other - but he's also, in the words of the show, soft. His father labels him a "weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy" who has never done a "man's work," blanches at the sight of blood, and is only inheriting his power from better, more masculine men.
Within the world of the show, Stede occupies a role typically reserved for female characters, in which he's sold in marriage to build his family's wealth. His romantic desire to marry for love is knocked down; it doesn't matter if he loves Mary or she loves him, or if there is even any desire on either side, because the whole point is to unite their wealth and produce heirs to carry on that wealth.
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In Stede's memories, the shift from getting married to having children is instantaneous. Sex is implied, but it barely exists for him - it was simply something that he had to do to fulfill his part. Again, this casts Stede in a role often reserved for female characters in fiction. The function of sex, in the English world, is procreation. Desire hardly enters into it, and love certainly doesn't. So it is likely that Stede's only sexual experiences are ones without desire and without love. They are simply to fulfill a function.
Pirate society is significantly more open when it comes to expression of sexuality, but it is still steeped in sexual roles and requirements. Stede's outward queerness marks him out, but it's his inward queerness and how that integrates his emotional core that makes him unacceptable within the masculine hierarchy represented by Izzy and Calico Jack.
I've gone into Izzy's toxic masculinity and hatred of Stede's gender presentation elsewhere, but to reiterate briefly - Izzy's biggest problem with Stede is that Stede does not occupy the correct gender role within the masculine hierarchy, nor does he occupy a properly defined sexual role. He is, in Izzy's view, supposed to be submissive to a dominant male, and he's anything but. He breaks the rules of piracy and he breaks the rules of masculinity, without seeming to be aware that there are rules to break (at least in the pirate world). Stede is "wrong" in Izzy's understanding of masculinity and homosexuality, just as he is wrong in the Badmintons'/his father's understanding.
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It is Stede's breaking of those rules that attract Ed to him in the first place. He doesn't act like a pirate should. He's strange. He's off-script. He's...queer. That queerness draws Ed in - far from being repelled by it, as Izzy thinks he should be, he's fascinated by it. Stede's softness and gentleness are things that Blackbeard should either reject or attempt to dominate, and he does neither.
What comes out in Stede and Ed's interactions is that Ed himself doesn't just desire softness, but is soft himself. Beneath the masculinity he puts on, he wants to be touched with kindness, he wants to be embraced. One of Stede's first questions is if he "fancies a fine fabric." When Ed says he does, Stede doesn't laugh at him or view this as un-masculine. He shows Ed as many fine fabrics as he can, excited to finally have another man with whom to exchange this love.
Ed also wants to be submissive without being hurt. He gets Stede to stab him in a performance of sex, but the act implies even more than that - that sex and pain are closely related in the pirate world, tied to sexual roles (men who penetrated and men who are penetrated). But Stede, once more, is a gentle man who penetrates. He doesn't see the stabbing as a sexual act, nor does he get a sexual thrill from causing Ed pain. Ed submits to a man who cares that he's being hurt, and it is this softness that Ed wants and is, as yet, unable to ask for.
(It is notable that, when Ed recalls the stabbing in "Fun and Games," his main memory is of Stede's look of concern.)
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The role of sex, love, and desire in the pirate world is made clearest with Calico Jack, far and away the most explicit representation of a pirate's toxic masculinity, who also highlights the reading of sex as about power and pain, not love. Calico Jack and Stede's conversation is the first time that sexual relationships between men is actually raised, in explicit and vulgar terms as Jack asks Stede if he and Ed are "buggering each other" and tells Stede "Blackie and I have had our dalliances."
Jack views Stede's response as being ashamed, but we see clearly that it's not shame but anger. Stede doesn't like who Ed is with Jack, and he doesn't like Jack's vulgarity, simplifying sex, and especially sex with Edward Teach, down to pure functions, not expressive of love or desire, just as they are in the English world. Jack's attitude that this is simply what men do to (not even with) other men when they are at sea, and he's proving his dominance by telling Stede that he's done it with Ed.
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Stede is not ashamed at the assumption that he and Ed are having sex, but angry at the implication that sex between them would be "buggery" and "dalliance," not love (and, what's more, that Ed would be treated as a thing instead of a person by another man).
Stede's queerness is part of his emotional core - it is not a whim. It is not something he can discard or mask, regardless of how he dresses or behaves. It is not something that just "goes at sea," or that can be reduced to functions. It is integral to himself, and so he's been completely unable to conceal it from being perceived in either the English or the pirate world, though he has tried very hard to conceal it from himself.
Ed has also tried to conceal the emotional reality of his queerness via his performance as Blackbeard, turning it outward as violent games between men, without softer emotions. It is with Stede that his own emotional core is revealed, and the big mean pirate is shown to be a man who wants to be held and touched, to be submissive without being shamed or harmed.
They allow each other to be vulnerable, to move beyond their worlds' insistence on sex as being purely a function and to unite it with love and desire. Their romance develops out of friendship and a powerful emotional understanding that claims softness as strength.
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Neither Stede nor Ed are acceptable in worlds dominated by toxic masculinity and controlled by rules of masculine hierarchy and power. But they are acceptable on the Revenge, filled with a crew of the "worst pirates in the world," all of whom openly, and increasingly, express fluid gender and sexual roles and identities that shift with relationships and feelings. Both are aligned with the queer liberation of the Revenge, itself shaped by Stede's ethos of kindness and breaking the "culture of violence" of piracy, but they have to break out of their worlds' underlying homophobia to find their way to each other.
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nativehueofresolution · 11 months
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homophobic shiv memes aside, i do think there is actually something interesting about how shiv interacts with her brothers' sexuality/implied queerness. with roman, she seized on his sexuality as potential weakness, painting him as a sexual deviant to logan and seemingly being the one to reveal to logan that roman has had sexual interactions with men as an attempt to bolster her status and gain leverage ('i mean i think it's a potential problem. there's issues, you know? everyone says that he used to get jerked off by his personal trainer, and now there's this gerri thing... it's a, it's a track record you know?'). she also later uses their father's disgust with roman to try to convince her brother to go against their dad ('rome, you know dad is never going to choose you, because he thinks there's something wrong with you' --an ambiguously worded line but one i think in the context of what had just happened prior to that scene where logan literally asked roman 'are you scared of pussy, son?' during their last conversation, this makes the most sense as a reference to his sexuality).
she also just straight up uses the fact that he Does Not Fuck to be mean when she's annoyed with roman ('you can't hide under the covers with mommy... someday you know you're gonna have to actually fuck something.' a remark that connor and arguably kendall -depending on how sincere you think his comments to shiv are - immediately clock as being over the line, while shiv plays coy and pretends to not understand why roman's upset). it's a vulnerability for her to exploit. (though it's also interesting to note her success with this tactic is limited. logan is furious with roman, but he still brushes shiv off after she outs roman. roman's queerness may disqualify him, but it doesn't change the fact shiv is a woman and so was never a real option to start with.)
the possibility of kendall's queerness, on the other hand, seems more to strike her as a threat, the most obvious example being her already infamous face during the 'you kiss guys on molly' scene. regardless of how much you want to read that as a confirmation of a relationship between kendall and stewy (and i personally am inclined to take it as such), the basic facts are that kendall is attempting to cozy up to stewy and specifically bringing up his attraction to men on molly as something that makes stewy mundane rather than an edgelord, and shiv shows visible discomfort at kendall's blasé attitude and his intimacy with stewy. the director mark mylod has pointed to the scene in particular during multiple interviews as one of the earliest signs of shiv's wobbling, because she sees upfront the closeness between kendall and stewy and how she 'could be sidelined by that relationship'.
it's interesting that this comes after the past few episodes spotlighted kendall's relationship with nate, shiv's ex and the guy who - apart from stewy and possibly the waiter - has the most gay subtext with kendall. in 4x08, the fact that kendall was close enough to nate that he would call him to double check shiv's story and that nate, either on purpose or unknowingly, revealed shiv was lying, ended up destroying her only chance of staving off the mencken call. while the scene itself has nothing to do with sexuality, shiv's goals were undermined because of an existing relationship between kendall and nate. her relationships as a sister and a lover did not give her enough sway to stop the interaction from playing out as it did. as the lone female, shiv is constantly shut out by the homosocial spaces that exist in the business world that she cannot access (we see kendall and roman do business deals in the men's room more than once). still, we have seen with nate in particular shiv is sometimes able to use her sexual appeal to try and achieve her goals (flirting with nate to try and get him to do oppo research on marcia for example), even if it is not her preferred way to deal with things. but if kendall is also able to attract men, this is another way in which he's competing with her, and one she feels poised to lose at because kendall already has access to men in a way she can't in their spheres, and she's seen over and over the bond between men prioritized above all else. she's already inclined to think kendall will sideline her for a man he wants to keep on his good side - she just lived through roman as co-ceo - and now during their meeting with stewy she sees kendall show an easy familiarity with stewy's sexual history with men that he uses to butter him up. even if she isn't taking that to mean they've personally slept together (and i think she is), she's being reminded that kendall is someone who can form intimate relationships with other men (in contrast to roman, who is kind of repressed about it) and use that to his advantage, which undercuts her already limited influence. it's just the eternal boys club taken to another level.
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lovelykhaleesiii · 4 months
Text
Brains & Barbie!
PAIRING: Michael Gavey x fem!BIMBO!Reader
WORDS: 1,515.
SUMMARY: Polar opposites attract right? It’s science. Who knew you would fall so helplessly in love with the math geek of the century…
WARNINGS: female receiving (fingering), swearing, degradation kink, some praise kink, edging, cum play, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.
A/N - it has been a hot minute since I wrote for an Ewan character, so forgive me I’m a little rusty.
this fic is dedicated to my soul sister @sahvlren as it was her bday recently, and she requested this specifically. I love you so very much, and am so thankful to have you as my dearest friend, boo. one day we shall meet, but for now we get freaky online! enjoy xoxox
+++ in light of the recent drama unfolding in this hellsite, I thought some good ole' smut would do no harm, right?
forgive me I shall edit this properly, but I must sleep for my night shift lol
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You weren't exactly the perfect pair to exist, nor would any like minded person think it best to put you two together in a roo, let alone become intimate. And yet, so effortlessly you both meshed rather well...Michael, your "Norman No Mates" boyfriend [as he enjoyed putting it], was quite a mathematical genius. His family were somewhat stable and well off, however, he rejoiced in the idea that he worked his way into the academy, where as your situation was quite the opposite. Your father had attended Oxford and graduated, as did your grandfather, who also sponsored and funded many of its restorations and renovations. The ancient establishment owed many of its complexes to your family name, and hence, granted you a position in their literature field, warranted you did try to maintain your grades above a credit average, trimming it with a pass even...
You had tipsily stumbled upon Michael at some college party: he stood by some dark corner, a drink in hand and the other in his pocket, before you had ignorantly walked into him, mindless to your surroundings from intoxication. You had either gone to refill your drink or was seeking the bathroom [you struggle to remember the fine details of the night you had met], laughing obnoxiously at some joke your friend had uttered, before walking into the man that would ultimately make you weak in your knees.
"S-Sorry-" You softly slurred, spilling your drink on the floor, a droplet landing on your heel.
At first it sounded as though an apparent swear seemingly seethed between his curved lips, halting himself before cursing you further, as he adjusted his thin framed spectacles, marvelling at you.
"Y-You alright, love?"
The next thing you knew, you found yourself hot and heavy, heated bodies, grinding against one another, as Michael teased and etched his impressively long cock, at your silky folds. His mouth latched to your unmissable cleavage, as he suckled on your breasts like a new born babe to its mother's teat.
No man had ever made you feel more desired, and yet a fool at his beck and call. He uttered despicable taunts and jabs at you, whilst simultaneously, worshipping the ground you strut on.
"The sluttiest girl on campus just couldn't resist the cock of a geek, huh? Making her even more stupid than she is, look at you... Pathetic baby."
His words stung a compelling sensation, and yet you craved for more of his undivided attention. And seemingly, Michael granted you every fathomable bit he could muster. You were the girl beyond his dreams, needless to say, he never thought he even stood a chance with any girl, of that matter. And he as a man, beyond your tastes. However, the tension was palpable between you two, the chemistry undeniable.
You often found yourself unwittingly seeking his company, even risking your privilege in the confines of his dorm...
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"How long left, Mikey. I'm s'bored!" You whinge, as you fidget and reposition yourself sprawled on your boyfriend's single-sized bed. Flinging your flip phone to the side, without a care for consequences [your parents would simply purchase a new one for you]. Despite being in somewhat sheerly covered attire, your ass cheeks just peaking through beneath your skirt, Michael barely felt the temptation to see [if he was even aware of your current outfit].
"Wait. Need to finish this equation."
His stern, unwavering voice and unfazed focus ontp the paper and textbooks before him, made your eyes roll with such annoyance, defeatedly sighing. The repetitive sound of his pencil thudding at his head, and your rhythmical humming, filled the silent void.
"Ugh- Michael, you should have just told me to not come- There was a party, I could have been at—"
"Do you not have an essay due by the end of the week?"
You contemplate for a few, solid seconds, before realising there was truth to his words. You did have an assignment due in the imminent days to come, and you had yet to begin.
"W-Well, yes... But I was hoping you would help me, handsome."
"Is that so?"
His attention still remained down, fixated on the text before him, yet his tone elevated, intrigue plaguing his words.
"I-I mean I'll still write it out, y-you just need to guide me—”
Swiftly he swivelled his entire body in the desk-top chair to turn unto you, a cheeky grin plastered across his chiselled face.
"Baby, you can barely do your times-tables, you think you can write an whole essay? Adorable..."
"But I sure know how to fuck you good. What man of your calibre can have a girl like me, say that to a man like you, huh?"
A darkness tinged in his piercing blue orbs, intently watching your every move and gesture, as he notices your hand hovering between your thighs, before disappearing beneath the short, skimpy skirt.
"Mhmm—"
Your thoughtless moans began to echo between the confined blank walls of the dorm, squirming against the neatly folded fabrics of the bed.
"And what do you think you're doing, exactly?"
Two digits continued to delve deeper between your folds, drawing slow, circular motions as your thumb remained rubbing at your clit. You had been biting your lips, only to release a moan, as you intended to respond obediently.
"M-My boyfriend's a bore, s-so I'm t-taking matters into m-my own h-hands—"
"Is that so?"
Without so much as a warning, a force pried your hands out from beneath your walls, your wetness coating your fingers and knuckles, glistening in the dim light. Within a few seconds, the emptiness between your legs vanished, as a rougher, more sizeable host embedded itself between your velvet folds.
With roughness, and vastly more pace, Michael's lengthy, slim digits began to etch deeper and deeper inside of you, pumping his fist in and out of you, as his other hand laid to rest against the mattress, propping him upright. Your hands immediately laid at your sides, firmly clenching the quilt between for some steadiness.
"Does my little slut have no patience? Brain to numb to think, she just wants to be fucked all the time, huh?"
"Y-Yes—"
Just as your ecstatic cries and moans grew more frequent, Michael's breathing sounded heavier, feeling your warm wetness making a mess all along his hands and the crevices of your entrance.
"This slut could've bent over to anyone. No-No, but she did for me, yeah? So needy for cock, she didn't even learn her times tables, huh?"
"I-I need you, M-Mikey—"
A third long digit shoved itself deeper into your tight hole, panting beneath your grip as you felt yourself fervently clench around him.
"That's right, princess. You need me. No man is worthy of this pretty cunt of yours, I earned it."
As you felt yourself progressively lose all your senses. gaining traction to the heat stirring below, Michael's sudden release felt cathartic. Watching him lick and lap every inch of your wetness lingering over his hand, made you feel delectable. Your lustful eyes searched below, for a fleeting second, you caught the growing commotion in his pants, as the bulge was evident, its shadow against the restricted fabric. As he tasted the last drop, a snarky smirk expanded across his handsome face, before beginning to unbelt and unbutton his beige trousers.
"C'mon princess, spread those legs like you always do, like you were born to do. Such a fucking whore, that's all you were meant for. Meant for me."
Aligning himself so effortlessly perfect against your, his reddened tip blushed against your sight, teasing your silky folds. His veins throbbed with excitement, almost palpable between your sensitive entrance, its length girth suddenly plunging itself ever so slowly inside of you.
With a first, rough shove, delving himself completely inside of you, his balls hitting at your rear, an escape of a low grunt vibrated against his lips, that remained hovering over your soft skin. Michael kept himself steadily propped atop of you: with each thrust, equally time and paced, his weight began to drop over you, applying the pressure down from above with his cock inside of you.
"The most perfect cunt, for the most perfect girl. And it's mine."
"M-Michael—"
"S-Stastically we a-are an anomaly, b-but my princess f-found me, like a good girl—”
“A-Anomaly?"
A deep, growling chuckle escaped his lips, his pace growing sloppier as he attempted to articulate: despite Michael having you weak in the knees in bed, he was still somewhat new at the act of sex. Struggling to juggle with the need to fuck and the need to explain, his lean, tall figure cowering over you, his eyes shut with ecstasy momentarily, before opening to glare and marvel at you breathlessly. Your lips latched onto his neck and collarbones in between your moans, intently sucking at his tender flesh, desperate to taste him, to leave remnants of your physical love, strewed across his body. Desperate to savour every inch of him.
"An odd couple, baby. B-But you take me so fucking well—"
"Mhmm—"
"There's no going back now, Princess..."
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credit for divider - @/prettypixels-love
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m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months
Text
Together
The aftermath of Elminster's visit created an implosion between Gale and Tav, but their love will help them pick up the pieces.
Pairings: Gale x female Tav/Reader
Requested: yes
Warnings: hurt/comfort, swearing, mentions of suicide. 18+ MINORS DNI.
Word Count: 1.7k
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The crickets chirped brightly, their noise matching with the twinkling of the stars overhead. The air around camp was thick, heavy - weighted in a way that only came after dark knowledge was discovered. This knowledge was dropped like a bomb - which, for this situation, was an apt metaphor.
"Tav..." Gale started, his back to you. He watched as Elminster - fucking Elminster, with his awful news he brought with a smirk - left camp, no doubt happy to have his belly full with our cheese, and our bread, and our wine.
"Don't," You interrupted him, the anger rising in you. Like a simmering stew, it boiled in your heart, causing you to hear the pumping of your blood in your ears. Your hands shook slightly as you ran them through your hair, taking on a life of their own. "Don't you dare say anything."
The other companions stood around the campfire, a few feet away from you both. The news of Gale's new "mission" that Elminster delivered to us - to blow himself up for the sake of possibly all humanity - hung between you all. Gale...the kind, goofy, open-hearted wizard that filled our nights with laughter and friendship, was now expected to kill himself. Which, he agreed to.
Gale...the love of your life. The man who held you countless nights, who celebrated your victories in battles and who made you scream and tremble with pleasure.
Willingly agreed to die.
Imagining a future where he no longer existed - dead by his own hand - caused tears to spring to your eyes quickly. And not delicate, lady-like tears...hot, blobbing, uncontrollable tears. Unable to deal with the reality of the situation, you turned on your heels to take off to the woods. You heard Gale call your name, followed by a stern (but gentle) Karlach try to diffuse him.
The small stream on the outskirts of camp babbled lightly, as you finally stopped and broke down. Not only in tears, but also physically - you found yourself on your knees, a groan escaping your lips and turning into a wail, uncontrollable.
You sobbed into your hands, tears and snot mixing on your face. You hiccupped through the sobs, strangling your throat and echoing off of the trees. A few moments later, the sound of footsteps mixed with your sobs.
The only two sounds in the woods.
"Tav..." Gale's voice was low, barely above a whisper. You didn't look, but you felt him sit next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. You fought him, trying to push him off of you, but his strength held on strong, and he didn't let go.
"Stop! Stop it!" You tried to pull away, wriggling underneath him, "How could you?! How could you agree to this? This-this...suicide mission!" Your voice sounded like a caricature of itself as you beat your fists into Gale's chest. He allowed it, letting you strike the weak blows to his body.
"Tav, Tav - stop. Listen to me," He said gently, shaking you slightly to break your erratic behavior, "Stop it. Look at me." He slipped his arms off of you and held your cheeks in his palms, your hands instinctively wrapping around his wrists. You were mere inches from each other, and while you were a mess, you felt your face turn to stone as you looked into his eyes.
Your anger - or rather, your hurt that you didn't want to show - pulsed through your body as Gale searched your eyes, running his thumbs of your cheeks. The air stilled - suddenly, you noticed tears in Gale's eyes, his mouth turned downward into a slight frown.
You broke down into tears again, leaning into Gale's shoulder. Again, he wrapped his arms around you and let you sob in his nook as he stroked your hair, murmuring in your ear.
"How could you do this?" You asked again, in between sobs, "How could you agree to do this? Was it because of Mystra?" You pulled back suddenly, jealousy somehow pushing past your grief and anger, "Fuck, did you agree to do this so that Mystra would forgive you? Do you still-"
"If you are about to ask me if I still love Mystra, I'd advise you to not," Gale said, wiping your tears gently. A playful smile quickly appeared on his face and disappeared just as fast, "After all the nights we've spent together? All the words, and kisses, and moments we've shared, and you think I could possibly have love in my heart for her still? When you've taken up all the space there possibly is?"
"Then why, Gale? Why did you agree to this?"
Gale sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He paused a moment, pulling away and looking up into the sky. He looked back at you, searching your face.
"My entire life, I've dreamt of something...more. I always thought I was destined for greatness. Not only because I felt it, but because I was told so. I worked so hard for everything...and wanted to do things no other man has done," He sighed, shaking his head slightly, "What a fool I was. Look where it's gotten me," Looking at you, he smiled sadly and absentmindedly felt the marking of the orb on his chest, "A mistake that easily has cost me my life in many regards. But...if I could do something to stop all this...I must try."
His words hung in the air as you looked out, past the stream and through the clearing. Tortured by the idea of never seeing Gale again, you grabbed his hand and held it tight, giving it a quick squeeze.
"I can't let you do this," You said, whispering, "I refuse to let us come this far for it all to be for naught. I refuse-" You voice caught in your throat, breaking as you spoke, "...I refuse to live in a world without you."
"Darling-" Gale started, but you quickly interrupted him.
"I refuse to live in a world where you, and me, and Tara aren't living in your tower in Waterdeep. I refuse to believe I won't have a life watching the sun set with you, a life where I don't wake up next to you. A life where you don't cook me your famous dinner you've talked about so much-" You heart lurched, seeming to break into a thousand pieces, "You promised you'd cook me dinner." The last words came out as a cry more than a sentence, causing Gale to grab you fiercely and hold on to you.
Soon, you realized you weren't the only one sobbing. A strangled, wet cry landed in your ears as Gale held you close, and now it was blaringly obvious he wasn't doing it just for your sake. You wrapped your arms around him, clutching on to his back just short of digging your fingernails in.
"Your life is not any less important than anyone you would save," You said, gently kissing his neck, "Please remember that. Please remember that you aren't alone, and all of us are here to find another solution. I am here to help find another solution."
"I cannot fail," He said, gently pulling back and looking at you. His eyes, red and shimmering from crying, were mournful. "...I cannot be a failure."
You shook your head gently and took both of his hands into yours, causing him to look down, "You are not. You are a hero....you..." You trailed off, trying to find the words. Were there any words that could encapsulate Gales heroism, the painfully wonderful mark he was already making on the world?
"You are so much more than The Wizard of Waterdeep." You finally said, smiling gently and tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. He slowly looked up at you.
"What can possibly be more than The Wizard of Waterdeep?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Leaning in, you touched your forehead to his.
"Gale," You spoke, "Being Gale is so much more than being The Wizard of Waterdeep."
A small breath escaped his lips as he chuckled lightly, a tear escaping his eye. He kissed you - passionately, his hands finding the back of your head and burying themselves in your hair. His tongue gently opened your mouth as your bodies pushed closer, your hands resting on his chest.
Your heart beat rapidly, the butterflies caused by the kiss fluttering at the same speed as your pulse. You loved this man so ferociously that sometimes it hurt. You'd do anything to protect him, to help him...to save him.
Eventually, he pulled away and looked into your eyes.
"We will find another way," He said finally, gently. "I...will find another way."
You nodded encouragingly, a smile playing on your lips, "We will. The world cannot lose you because the 'Mistress of the Weave' says so. I won't allow it."
Gale laughed at his, running a thumb down your cheek, "Bold words."
"Bold words that I plan to force into action, if necessary." You spoke, matching his smile.
"You are fierce, my love," Gale said, gently rising and offering a hand to help you up. You accepted it and he pulled, wrapping you in his arms, "You are a fierce thing. There is no one like you."
"And there is no one like you," You retorted, inhaling his scent as he held you, "World famous or not." Pulling away, you took his hand and started to lead him back to the camp, "Life will not be complete until we are back in Waterdeep. Together. Forever."
Gale nodded. "You're just saying that because you want me to cook you my famous roast dinner."
Laughing, you looked at him, his eyes twinkling. You felt at home as you searched his face, the familiar lines causing your heart to speed up.
Gale was your heart, your home. Your present and your future, and where there was him, there was joy. Notoriety or not, nothing on this planet could make you happier than him.
Elminster and Mystra be damned, you would fight this thing tooth and nail.
The two of you. Together.
-----
Thanks to the anon who requested this! I'm an unabashed Gale lover (tm) so I was so glad when this popped into my inbox!
Reminder: my inbox is open for requests!
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muzanswaifu · 1 year
Text
Bittersweet
Demon! Sanemi x Fem! Reader
18+
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Request: "I have been waiting to read something like this for so long. Demon Sanemi craving blood because fem!reader is on her period, so yk he eats her out without mercy❤️"
Demon Sanemi is so mean I love hiiiim :3 Need me a man who would eat me out on my period 😒 Jk jk that shit gotta taste nastyyyyyyy
NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Non-con, Smut, Sexism, Kidnapping, Forced Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Menstruation, Blood Kink, Forced Orgasm, Kinda Gross ngl
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The rhythmic pitter-patter of feet echoes through the green, a slow churn of water thrumming with the flow of the current. Even the thick noise of crickets and wind couldn't drown out the hint of life found deep in the brush, the figurative curl of a finger beaconing him to draw closer, to close the union of rarity.
He took a breath. A deep one. Taking in the pungent scent of weak males. And a female.
Shinazugawa could nearly taste the delectable meat already, the flavor settling on his tongue and seducing his taste buds. Drool nearly threatened his mouth, but he withheld himself. He wasn't an animal. Not technically, anyway.
But he might as well be. Only an animal could hunt as he did, track as he did, kill as he did. But a beast was not nearly as precise as he was, not leaving even a scrap of evidence in his wake. Only the crime scene would be found, a gorey scene of bone and torn flesh, remnants of his well-earned meal. But only the males would wither...
As for the female -
Oh gods, did just the thought of it make him salivate, his very bones trembling with need. Her scent alone made him feel weak with hunger, his tongue curling with horrid intent. The fragrance was familiar to him, a vague memory of his past existence of rare blood, the same unique trait only serving as a grand pillar toward his success as a demon. Her blood ran the same, her veins full of the powerful elixir that his kind would quite literally kill each other for. But he had no need for such rivalry.
The path the cattle strode upon was a hidden one, veiled by a plentiful layer of wisteria about fifty feet aways on either side of the trail. The effort wasn’t so useless, he supposed. Perhaps it served useful against weaker demons of no rank, the fiends not yet powerful enough to develop some resistance to it. But his godly build was stronger, the frail flower only giving his skin a lingering sting. His hunger far outweighed it.
He had long stalked his prize. The demon had patience in these rare situations, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to make his efforts all the more worth it. It had been several moons ago that he’d first stumbled upon her delivery across these lands, his keen eye catching the lingering dust kicked up by the horses that pulled her carriage. Even back then, the chance had been perfect. The men were unknowing, all walls of defense down as the car came to a halt, surely one of exhaustion. Shinazugawa drew closer, only a breath away from finally feasting when his vision was obscured by a heavenly vision.
A small thing she was, her skirts nearly catching under her feet as she gracefully stepped down from her traveling abode. The moonlight shimmered brilliantly off her glazed skin as she bent her delicate neck back, stretching out the aching tightness trapped there. Her (h/c) hair was frizzy across the outline, the static from the summer heat pulling at the threads and giving them a coiled curl. His maw fell open with his amazement.
He’d come across several humans of marechi blood in his infinite lifetime, and most, if not all, were nothing much to look at, quite ugly in his opinion. They all bore the same simplicity and naïveté, their only unique trait being their delectable composition that gave them their sole purpose of feasting. But she was so drastically different.
Everything about this female sang rarity, her natural features reminiscent of that of ancient goddesses that mortal men could only wish to touch. But here she was. Within an arm’s reach, he could have her, do with her what he wished. He was nearly disgusted with himself, being far more captivated with his food than he should’ve been. Sparing her of death would’ve been such a waste of opportunity, one that even those lower than him wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to squander. Yet, his own self-doubt swallowed him as he drew back into the dark wood, letting her little toy soldiers bring her back to the safety of the nearing daylight.
He’d gorged himself after that, consuming soul after soul at a nearby village in an attempt to quench his own frustration and need. There weren’t many options to consider. He couldn’t spare the thing entirely, he wasn’t that fucking stupid, but he didn’t very much want her dead either. Turning her definitely wasn’t an option, women just didn’t have as much potential as demons, and he had his own personal beliefs that women shouldn’t dirty their hands. But dear gods, her scent, her smell alone probably called upon hundreds of demons to her location daily, perhaps it would’ve been a mercy to take the female’s life.
Fuck.
He hated himself for how indecisive he was. Not once in his entire demonhood had he been at such a crossroad of hesitance. There had to be another option that held the best of both worlds, yes? Shinazugawa just hadn’t come across it yet.
But fate gave him a hint as he snatched up the severed half of a female he’d killed, her guts spilling into his lap as he gnawed on her fat ankle. His daggered eyes trailed up her cold thigh, lining the dark trail of blood that seeped from under her skirt. A small confusion fell over him as he mulled over the strange placement. His blade’s cut through her navel had been clean, her blood pooling into the muddy grass and not at all staining much of her clothing. Yet the chain of red kept its existence, running into the conjunction of her thighs. Cursing his own curiosity, Sanemi swept the pesky material aside, only to be met with the brilliance of a cruel idea.
It hadn’t been hard at all to follow along the woman’s usual route of travel again, her men taking the same path,  ignorant of its dangerous discovery. Yet the timing was unfortunately off, her smell still sickeningly sweet and clean rather than bitter and dirty. He’d have to wait for next time. And the next. And the next. He’d nearly given up hope entirely until the fated night his lungs were filled with the metallic scent that had his belly tensing with primal famine. Just the mere aroma of ichor had drool gathering in his jowls, his fists clenching with need. It only grew thicker as her quaint carriage drew near, the clicking wheels singing a dreadful tune with each snap against the road. Sanemi could already taste the woman on his tongue, her savory flesh plump and tender between his teeth… god, he was going to lose it.
He nearly did as she stepped from her carriage in the same manner as their first meeting, her hair knit in tight braids across her crown, framing her delicate features. She was dressed more eloquently this time, Her gown long and loose yet hugging her figure with a gentle tightness. He mused to himself that perhaps she was on her way to some formal event to maintain appearances, maybe even earn herself a husband. Yet the notion of such a possibility irked him all the same. He’d never felt a hunger like this before, if one could even call it that. This felt so much more significant, crucial even, as if his very life depended on it. And maybe it did, since he would most definitely not let himself live if he couldn’t get even a single taste of her blood. Her body was his to take.
It took him no time at all to do away with the weaklings, the men’s bodies falling one after the other into the gravel, making a sad splash as their vitals funneled out. The man ogling at her backside was the first to go, his head severed the instant his eyeline met the wide curve of her dress, dropping to the ground with a thud and rolling to a leisure stop to her heel. When the woman finally turned from her distraction of the ominous wood, she was met with pure, bloody isolation.
Her horrified scream echoed loud, her hands clawing at her own face as she looked upon the gory scene of blood and guts that surrounded her. Shinazugawa was almost impressed at her reaction speed as she quickly turned foot and bolted, running through the thick bush despite her frailty. He couldn’t help but snicker, so enamored by her utter foolishness of trying to escape. If the men protecting her couldn’t even survive, what made her think she was the exception?
“God, you’re fucking stupid, ha!” he cackled, leaping about the tree-line, nipping at her backside but giving her just the right amount of space to let her hope she could get away.
She was not at all athletic, her stamina quickly dwindling as her frail figure fought with itself to continue on. Her chest burned, her feet hurt, her will to keep moving dwindling by the second and feeding into the persuasive idea of giving up. Yet the monster snatched her before she could choose, slamming her into the soft, melted ground and caking her elegance in earth. His hand wrapped around her pretty neck firmly, another snaking down her bodice and tearing open the gold buttons of her dress. His tongue swept across his lip as he unwrapped her, taking his sweet time to unveil every inch of her pristine flesh to his ravenous eye, her little fists pounding at his chest as she sobbed and screamed for help.
“Shut it,” Sanemi growled lowly, surprised to see her actually listen, her lip wobbling and eyes flooding as she silenced herself. He could still hear her pathetic whimpers as he stripped her, her small frame shaking as he brushed down her stomach, removing the lacy undergarments that hid her delicate body from his sight. He could see her plush intimacy coming into view from beneath her coverings, her curved hips thickening her figure, her thighs trembling as they tried desperately to hide themselves. But there was nothing that could be done about that now as she lied there, helpless, powerless, weak.
He opened his mouth wide, exposing sharp canines and letting his hot breath wash over her firm abdomen as her tears began anew and wept down her flushed cheeks. The demon was pleased, relishing in her surrender and submission as he gently ran his tongue down her navel, sampling his meal and savoring the girl's pitiful sobs. He loved it when humans cried, when they begged and pleaded for their lives like the weaklings they were, it made things so much more exciting.
His tongue flicked out over her pelvis, gliding over the pudge over her sex as he breathed in the scent of her musk, tainted with ovulation. Sanemi could already feel the saliva gathering in a jowls as he began to peel down her underwear, a cotton cloth clinging to the crotch of it. Her breath stuttered.
"N-no, no, please! Please... please!" she cried out, shaking hard and grasping at her own face, nearly clawing her eyes out with panic. But she knew better than to try to fight him off again, clearly more afraid of what he would do then than what he was currently doing. He couldn't help but grin against her supple flesh, his edged teeth nicking her thigh. She jerked at the sudden pain and the warm sensation of blood trickling down her leg, soaking into the dirt.
"P-Please, p-p-please don't... h-hurt me," her words shook with her exterior, her sniffling likely a strong persuasion to those who had a heart. He obviously didn't but was still bothered by her pestering fear of being eaten. "If I was going to eat you, don't you think I would have done it already?" he groaned sarcastically.. The human slowly removed her fingers to peak down at him, her eyes red and welled with tears, lip trembling. He laughed.
"I mean come on, you think I'd let you bitch and moan this long just to kill you later? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Quit fucking crying," he hissed.
She sniffled again. "B-but -"
"Zip it."
Her mouth snapped shut, quickly obeying before her brain could even comprehend him.
Sanemi growled. "Talk again and you get to join those fuckers back there." He nodded his head back to the direction of her abandoned carriage and dead guards. His claws dug into her thighs, pulling them to spread wider to encompass his presence. "The sooner you let me take what I want, the sooner I let you go. But I don't deal with brats. You either listen or you don't, 's up to you bitch."
He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but it definitely wasn't for her to spread herself wider, without any instruction. It was almost touching how quickly she gave in, not even needing a moment to think it over before she opened herself up for him to do as he pleased. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she were eager for it.
His head fell down to her core again, his fangs pricking the surface of her skin yet again, drawing forth a shallow line of blood as he slid them down her inner thighs, his eyes locked on her frightened yet curious gaze. She shivered at the sharpness of his touch, her legs trembling as he moved further south, trying to appease his hungered excitement. He resumed pulling down her panties, reveling in the aroma of moon blood that filled his senses as he took away all obstruction. It was beautiful. The smell of blood. The sight of red dripping from her puffy lips. He could only imagine the taste, so eager in his imagination of its excellence. He'd never tasted pure ovulation blood before, never even thought of it actually. It would be stupid to use just his tongue when he could devour with his teeth in an instant and move on to the next meal. But this was a different situation entirely. This woman could satiate him for years, decades even, with marechi blood. It didn't hurt that she was a hot piece of ass either. If he didn't get himself together soon, he might end up fucking his food as well.
The woman's eyes lingered on his leisure movements, the drawl of his dangerous eyes along her sex as he studied the meal. Embarrassment quickly rose in her chest as she realized his intentions, praying that he’d move on with whatever he was trying to do so her dignity could recover. Although, she supposed letting him taste her menstrual blood was better than getting eaten alive... but hardly.
The demon felt her pulse quicken in his grasp, her breathing growing faster and her patience dwindling as she began to quiver again. He didn't blame her though, not in the slightest. But he had every right to  such a rare female, he deserved everything. And if the needs of others were sacrificed, so be it. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist her for too long. He was ravenous.
And he was horny.
He smiled as his head dipped down, his tongue flicking out to smooth against her swollen clitoris, barely brushing the top as he inhaled the fragrance of her blood. Her legs trembled, her muscles tensing as her hips buckled in response, shocked with the sudden feeling of sensitivity. She had to bite her lip to silence her noise of surprise. He chuckled as he teased her, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, teasing her wet folds and leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He didn't really care for her pleasure at the moment, but he was curious of her response to it. Dinner and a show. That was fine by him.
She bit her lip harder, her thighs flexing to keep from touching him. Sanemi was excited at her reaction, watching her face contort with each and every careless stroke of his tongue, her hips subconsciously rising to feed herself into his awaiting mouth. A few times, she almost grabbed for him, but her arms were still pinned to her side by her own strong will to survive. He liked that, enjoyed her struggle as he continued to lick her up and down, her clit becoming more sensitive with each and every pass. Her blood was intoxicating, his head already growing dizzy as he drank her from the source. He thought it would be difficult to keep himself from biting down but the thought never even grazed his mind as he continued giving sloppy licks and sucks to her weeping heat. She was so tasty, so sweet, so ripe. It seemed like she would never stop bleeding as his tongue was eternally blessed with a fresh coat of red. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to drain her of it all in one night.
He growled, his head lowering down to her opening and his tongue falling out again as she whimpered in anticipation, eyes closed tight. She felt like she was losing her mind with every pass of his ravenous tongue. Her head was so foggy and light, her pussy so warm, she couldn't stop herself from letting out small noises of pleasure as he kept feasting upon her. It took every ounce of her being not to wrap her legs around his head and trap him into her center, forcing him to cease his cruel teasings. What little was left of her fear only heightened the experience, giving her a blissful taste of sin that she'd never indulged before, the sense of danger giving her such a rush.
Her ichor only grew sweeter on his tongue by the second, her slick diluting her blood in heavier batches that gave him more a taste of lust than power. He focused on her hole then, realizing that nipping at her clit certainly wasn't helping the situation. Yet, her pleasure rose none-the-less. His tongue worked hard, dashing inside of her, licking up every drop of liquor, drinking it down as if it were a fine wine. It was nearly too good to be true, this level of strength he felt. He looked down at the girl, his eyes burning into her as he watched her squirm and grip the earth. She was so delicious.
But he needed more.
His tongue pumped into her again and again, dipping as far as it could reach before retreating to her entrance to lick up anything that had escaped him. She shuddered, her hips subtly grinding on his face to chase her nearing end. It continued building in her belly, sending bolts of electricity up her spine and warming her insides. She couldn't even feel the pain of her cramps anymore.
Sanemi sipped at her wetness more vigorously, his tongue lapping at her like a dog, desperate for more of his meal. He slowed only for a moment as the woman gave a small cry, her hips and thighs quaking harshly and tensing in his palms. He wasn't even angry when her juices sprayed him, drenching his lower face and dripping down his lips. If anything he was amused, only a human could come from such little care. Yet, he stopped, her cunt hardly even bleeding anymore being so wet with arousal and relief. What was the point of pleasing her when he gained nothing in return.
He rose from his position on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes raked down her sloppy appearance, certainly not that of a noblewoman. Her backside was caked with mud, her hair messy and matted, her face red and mouth leaking with drool. She nearly looked peaceful as she let out gentle pants, still softly shaking from such a strong orgasm. He rolled his eyes.
"Get up," he commanded, uncaring of her condition. "I don't have all fucking night."
The woman only rose when his growls became violent, her movements awkward and her head still in the clouds. She still attempted to cover herself, tucking an arm over her breasts and cupping her sex with another.
"I'm only going to explain this once so I suggest you pay attention-" he began, her eyes quickly lighting up with fright, "You are going to come back to this path every month during your menses. You will come alone. No guards. No friends. No nobody. Understand?"
She squirmed nervously in her footing, her fear beginning to crest again. "B-but I-I won’t be a-allowed to travel for n-no r-r-reason..." she stuttered.
"Not my problem."
"A-and how would I come back without anyone to take-"
"Not. My. Problem." he hissed meanly, making her cower away.
He stepped forward to her, towering over her little form. "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm just telling you what you're going to do. I don't give a fuck how you're gonna do it, but if you know what's good for you, you'll obey. You want anyone else dead because of you?" he sneered.
Her lip quivered and tears glazed in her eyes. "N-no."
Sanemi chuckled, looking down at her and pressing a strong hand over her lower belly and brushing away her small hands, dangerously close to her privates that were still glazed with his saliva.
"This is mine," he stated, passing two fingers between her puffy cunt lips, "Give it to anyone else and I'll kill them and make you watch. I'll make it slow too. You want that?" She violently shook her head, nearly on the cusp of pissing herself from the terror of such a suggestion.
He hummed with his approval of her response, giving her another once over with his eyes and a quick squeeze of her breast before backing away into the night, undisturbed with how on earth she was going to get back home. It would've been any second that he could lose control of himself and pounce, a desperate need growing in pants to satiate himself. He'd have to establish that as another rule - no fucking when she was edible. Maybe he'd pay her another visit later when her period was over, at her estate perhaps, just to take away her innocence and test out how useful she was to him. He could only imagine how pathetic she would look speared on his cock with nowhere else to go, but that would be for another night, he couldn't forget her main purpose.
And he couldn't wait to get a taste of that again.
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vexingwoman · 2 months
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I'm sorry if this isn't articulated well and is a little rambly, I'm autistic, please take my words with a grain of salt. as a former member of that "whump community" (who's still into that kind of media) I know most of them are tifs, tho I was in it more when most of the popular writers on tumblr were still girls. It's also primarily autistic people from my experience.
you're definitely 100% right that they're not identifying as real men, I'm detrans and i don't even conflate the 2 in my mind which i think is a thing most RFs don't get about yaoi and this kind of thing, i didn't want to be a real guy, fictional men r like their own species lol. they're everything real men could never be. it might be hard to understand if you're less chronically online but I'm sure though not consciously, fictional men aren't even really related to real men in most of these people's minds.
With whump stuff I was always more uncomfortable or uninterested when it was a woman, maybe because women in media being hurt and weak is the norm (and it feels too real seeing a woman getting hurt since there's a closer connection), and it happening to men is an intriguing reversal. More male attracted women (im bi) are into more sensitive guys which sadly mostly exist in media, so it's just escapism.
I think that's also why they identify as trans males, they want to become closer to the fictional ideal of a male who can be soft and sensitive, or possibly being autistic and having trouble separating your special interests and escapist fantasies from every facet of your life.
(For context, this was sent in response to this post)
I think you’re onto something here. Brutality against female people is so common that we’re completely desensitized to it, and consequently, female characters being brutalized doesn’t emotionally move us. Either that, or brutality against female characters is highly sexualized, and further dehumanizes them. 
On the other hand, brutality against a male character is unexpected and unusual. Therefore, we are emotionally moved by it and able to recognize it for the tragedy it is. Indeed, this might explain why the “whump community” almost exclusively romanticizes the torture and anguish of male characters, and why so many of its members identify as trans guys. 
Furthermore, have you noticed that most of the tropes this community romanticizes are things that, at least in real life, female people are primarily the victims of? For example: rape, kidnapping, stalking, being drugged, being sold. It almost feels like an attempt to vicariously garner empathy for female suffering, without the element of being another cliché female victim. I feel like they impose female suffering onto male characters because they know the audience actually empathizes for males and views them as full human beings. 
In the end, I think it all comes down to female people’s desire to be fully humanized and to escape gendered stereotyping. For example, you stated that many trans-identified females “want to become closer to the fictional ideal of a male who can be soft and sensitive.” But why is a soft, sensitive male character so much more charming to them than a soft, sensitive female character? 
Because in their eyes, softness and sensitivity in a male character is seen as authentic; it’s seen as a consequence of his unique personality. But softness and sensitivity in a female character is seen as expected, as stereotypical—it’s seen only a consequence of her gender. This is also why characters who are fathers are adored, while characters who are mothers are overlooked or scrutinized. Because a male character taking care of children is kindhearted, nurturing, selfless, compassionate. But a female character taking care of children is just doing her job.
Basically, I think many trans-identified females would like their softness and sensitivity to be viewed as authentically as we view softness and sensitivity in males. I think many trans-identified females crave for their characteristics to be viewed as consequences of their unique personalities, rather than consequences of their gender. They crave to be seen as human first and female second—not the other way around. 
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