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wonderlandrry · 17 days

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hi, this is my first ever attempt at writing on tumblr!! the story could be more than one part if you like it (maybe three or four parts). this is also my first time not writing in first person pov so hopefully it doesn’t suck complete ass. (not really edited and idk how to format either so GREAT first impression, friends.)

pov: best friend! harry x you (aka i tried my best lmao)

blurb: you and harry have been best friends your whole life and one night changes everything.

contains: friends to lovers, bad girl x good boy if you squint, smoking green 🍃, smut, cussing, oral (giving and receiving for both characters), praise kink, and size kink if you squint really hard again and read between the lines lmao.

word count: 5k

• NOT RAMADAN FRIENDLY •

just friends

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Rylan’s honey eyes flick from your dorm bulging back to yours. The tension from tonight’s argument is fresh in those crinkles next to his eyes that you used to love. Fucking adore.

Parting your lips, you sigh, “See you around.”

“Don’t be like that,” A ringless hand runs through his dark hair. You’re not exactly sure why you’re focusing on that but here we are. “It was a joke, come on.”

Your hand rests on the door handle, silently contemplating on freaking the fuck out again. This isn’t the first time he’s made jokes, very public jokes about your best friend. The very first time you let it slide with a warning because some people don’t understand that you can be just friends with the opposite gender. They can’t wrap their heads around that not every relationship revolves around sex. You understood but tonight? He went too far.

“Saying Harry follows me like a stray dog,” You have to take a deep breath because Rylan doesn’t know what Harry’s been through. That only pisses you off more. “Was too far.”

“He doesn’t have any friends, Lil, just you.”

“Because he’s smart, he doesn’t have friends because he’s fucking brilliant.” It was true, Harry focused more on school and baseball than friendships. He got a full ride to Calloway University reliant on grades and his pure, raw talent. Some would stop there but he took it a step further by studying physics. Now it’s your turn to run a hand through your hair because this is the fourth fight over your best friend. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you not see how fucked that is?” He hisses, making your head snap in his direction. “You’re supposed to be dating me, not him.”

You scoff, “So that’s what this is?”

Rylan’s hold tightened on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. “Look, I don’t care that you’re friends with him but you spend too much time-”

That confirmed everything for you. Your long friendship with Harry wasn’t the problem. Rylan knew how much Harry meant to you and how your friendship was all you had sometimes. He knew yet the fact that he didn’t have your full attention every waking moment of the day was the source of cruel jokes.

“You’re threatened, huh?” His knuckles blanched even more as the words left your mouth. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ry. Harry’s been my best friend since I was seven. Nothing has and will never happen between us. I would never sleep with him and ruin our friendship.”

“I see how you guys look at each other.”

Your whole face heats, it’s literally on fire. “You’re seeing things because we’re just friends.”

“You’re in denial.” Fuck. This.

Those three words were enough to push you. Push you to fling open the car door and launch yourself onto the pavement. They were enough to heat your whole body to the point that chilly winter air wasn’t enough to simmer down your anger. You don’t even bother slamming the door shut because that asshole can get out and shut it himself. That’s what he gets for constantly trying to pry a confession out of you. A confession that doesn’t exist but he still won’t accept it. The security guard gives a weary smile as you pass him, an obvious witness of the whole shit show. You look over your shoulder just in time to watch Rylan peel out.

He doesn’t follow you, shocker. Not that you wanted him to but you also didn’t expect him to. He acts like he cares but when push comes to shove, actions don’t match the words constantly flying out of that stupid mouth.

Unlocking and relocking the door with a soft click, your dorm is oddly dark and quiet. It looks like no one has been here all day. This is a possibility since Ellie spends most nights with her boyfriend. You slide off your black vans and place your bag on the hooks by the door. Seniors get a common room and separate bedrooms in student housing and you love the privacy. Honestly? It’s hard as fuck to hook up sharing a room with someone. El never cared who you brought home but felt weird as hell, yano?

From: ball boy (11:35 pm)

you home?

To: ball boy (11:36 pm)

yeah

You loosen your claw clip and honey-blond waves tumble. Walking into your room, you slip out of the cute-ass outfit you spent an hour perfecting and into some random band shirt with no bra and spandex shorts. Such a shame because you looked hot, too bad the night didn’t end with Ry ripping this lacy, black corset off you. Sucks for him.

From: ball boy (11:42 pm)

open the window before Mack catches my ass.

Your eyes snap toward the only windows in your room. The sheer, black curtains were closed but they did a shit job keeping the sunlight out so, honestly, how good were they for privacy? Your heart hammers thinking about Harry seeing you. How he could’ve seen all of you, not just what you choose to show off. The thought made your heart hammer.

From: ball boy (12:46 am)

don’t tell me you’re fucking someone right now

From: ball boy (12:47 am)

fuckin’ sick, lil

Annoyed, you rip open the curtains to find Harry’s cocky expression staring straight at you. It’s too dark to make out his full face but you can tell by the smirk tipping the left side that he’s amused. Making your favorite dimple dent even deeper. In one swift motion, the latch unlocks letting him in. He’s done this a million times, yano? Sneaking in your room for late-night study sessions, movie nights, or sleepovers. You’ve shared a bed countless times but never crossed that line, he’s your best friend. There are rules in place to save your friendship. He means more to you than one night of pleasure. Always has.

“Nice shirt, been looking for that everywhere.” Evergreen eyes bounce across your face, “Thought you had a date.”

You blow out a breath, “Not anymore.”

He smirks, dimple popping, “Obviously.”

“Thought you had plans.” You counter because Harry may not have many friends but that didn’t mean anything when it came to his sex life. He had trouble talking to girls but that didn’t seem to matter because they flocked to him. There was just something about him that drew people in, you included especially you. Maybe it was his ability to make anyone in the room feel special; wanted by having his undivided attention.

His lips purse, “Nah, not tonight.”

“Why?”

He gives you a pointed look giving away that he knows, “You know why.”

Guilt settles into your stomach, that stupid sinking feeling of being caught hit full force. He had the same argument with Grace that you did with Rylan tonight. They seem to argue more though and it kills you seeing him upset. You know he cares about her but he loves you. Maybe not romantically but definitely platonically and that means something to him. Every time they have this conversation, you know you should walk away. It's always your first instinct to protect people you love and you love your best friend. But, you’d rather die than let him go and that’s selfish as fuck but true. You sigh, “Harry-”

“I’m good,” He closes the distance and wraps you into a hug and it feels like home. Your favorite type of hug. “Worried about you.”

You smile against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart hitting your cheek, “Nothing a Star Wars marathon won’t cure, Stud.”

His face lights up, “God, I could kiss you, Lil.”

“Whatever you say, ball boy.” Your heart flutters violently but you ignore the feeling. He always jokes like this in secret and maybe that’s the reason no one believes you’re just friends. But, they’re just jokes, yano.

“Ball boy?” He scoffs, making you tilt your chin to meet his gaze. When your eyes finally focus, Harry’s staring at you with his stupid, dimpled smile. Just because he’s your best friend doesn’t mean you’re completely immune. He’s handsome and you’d be dumb to deny that because, well, you have eyes. Currently, he looks even better from this angle. His hair’s tousled as neat as those chestnut curls will allow and dimples seem more prominent. Deep, inviting indents. The black, backwards hat only adds to the contrast of those evergreen eyes. Your favorite shade of green. A sliver of metal trapped between perfect teeth as he cocks his head. He chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “That’s fucked up.”

Pulling back, you shrug, “You’re the one who plays with them all day.”

His tongue clicks, cheeks hollowing, “Baseball, I play baseball.”

You dismiss him with a wave, walking into the common room. “Whatever helps you hit balls with your bat, Ball boy.”

“Better watch that pretty mouth of yours,” He warns in a low tone, so low that everything tingles. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulls out a bag of weed before plopping on the couch, “because I don’t share with bad girls.”

“Watching Star Wars high?” You grin as he nods. “Man of my dreams.”

Harry smirks, all boyish and full dimples, “Don’t tease.”

After pressing play and settling into the couch, you glance over at him just as the credits begin to roll. He’s lighting a joint, brows set in concentration, pink lips puckered around the paper inhaling slowly before passing it to you.

The next forty minutes fly by in the best, blissfully buzzed way. Time doesn’t have an exact science. We’re happy and having a good time. All the anger from earlier dissipated from you and Harry just being together. His nose found its way under your jaw, right next to your pulse point, some time after fifteen or so minutes. He’s always been affectionate when buzzed but holy fuck, was he toning it down before. You don’t know what changed but his hands haven’t left your waist and he keeps hugging closer to your chest with little sighs and hums of contentment. He smells so fucking good like peppermint, fresh laundry, and smoke.

Your breathing is slow and steady. Completely wrapped in him. Fingers twisting the curls at the nape of his neck until your fingertips tingle to touch him elsewhere. You don’t allow them to go lower than his throat, feeling how harsh each swallow was each time you’d get below the hinge of his jaw. He hums against your neck, nuzzling deeper into the column dangerously like he can’t get enough, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” You breathe as he hugs tighter, not stopping your feather-like movement through his soft curls. “You?”

“Yeah, that feels good.” His words come out sleepy and deep and gravelly. “Your t-touch always feels good.” Warm evergreen holds all your attention as he kisses your cheek, “Thank you for being here with me. You make everything better, always have.”

Your face tilts, noses inches apart, and whisper. “You make everything better for me too.”

Harry’s the type of man that goes from beautiful to devastating with a change of facial expression. Your hazy brain can’t stop taking him in for some reason. It’s involuntary. That beautiful, sculpted face is hidden at nightfall but you allow yourself to appreciate how much time someone put into crafting him. It’s like you spent the last fifteen years with blinders on and can finally see.

Sage burns into evergreen as his lips roll a few times like he’s trying to come up with a safe response. The irrational part of my brain wants to feel his mouth on you again so bad that you almost crave him. Your lips part at the same time waiting for the other to make a move or do something drastic. Three heartbeats of your mouths seconds apart. Three heartbeats in your own hazy, happy world. His nose nudges yours once before dropping back to your throat. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your breathing synced again. Instead of calm and steady, now it’s erratic and fast.

Fuck, you have to be high, right? Best friends don’t look at each other like this. Especially you guys.

He leans closer, left hand planted on your thigh as we just stare at each other. Almost like he feels it too. Your fingertips ache to touch the stubble dusting his jawline so bad they tingle but you can’t seem to move. Completely lost in the hypnotic desire clouding the calm green of his irises.

Not wanting to put pressure on Harry to make the first move, you close the distance. Not sure why you did that but your mouths part at the same time. His in surprise and yours in want, yet in perfect sync. Pressing your lips to his, he immediately kisses back, cupping your jaw. One second everything’s moving slowly and the next, he’s lifting his shirt over your head. Touching every inch of exposed skin like he can’t get enough. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts as yours find his jeans. The kiss breaks as he leans back just enough to look at you. You’re looking at each other in silence but it’s so fucking loud.

“We should-” He swallows harshly, columns of his throat tense, “Don’t wanna finally have you if you’ll regret-”

“Won’t ever regret you, H,” Your voice is hushed yet full of so much want and sincerity. “Don’t stop, we’re okay.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out in relief pressing another kiss to your lips that sends trace currents through your body full force. Finally giving into the sweetest temptation you’ve ever tasted. Forbidden and delicious. This was like an avalanche of feelings and lust in motion, couldn’t stop the cascade if you tried. The aftermath would eventually come but everything would be okay. It had to be.

“Yeah, just friends,” Your lips move with his again but lazier, a slow pace that makes everything come to life. “This doesn’t change anything.”

You lied because this meant everything but you can’t stop.

He blinks like he can see right through your bullshit.

You blink back hoping he doesn’t.

“Just friends.” He repeats only the first half of your lie between kisses, pressing your body further into the couch with his hips.

The words come out breathless.

The words come out easily.

The words come out in cool peppermint.

He starts to drag your shorts off at the same pace the kiss and you lift a little to help. Being this vulnerable, letting the other fully see the other is something you can’t put into words. Your eyes rake his body as his lustful, dark gaze mirrors yours. There aren’t enough fucking words to describe how beautiful he is. Taking in every single detail from his tattoos to his cock pressed between your open thighs. The desperation; everything fucking aches for him. He leans forward, lips parting, eyes darkening by the minute, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw until they meet your mouth. The warm metal of his tongue ring claiming every inch of your mouth. He tasted like charged temptation in the best way, like something you didn’t know you craved until now.

Harry whimpers as your legs wrap around his waist. His cock throbs between your thighs and he groans against your lips. The sound vibrating with need; so fucking desperate. Strong hands grip your ass as the kiss deepens. He’s kissing you like you’re oxygen and he’s hungry for air. Almost like he can’t breathe without tasting you. Without having you like this. Staggered, harsh breaths hit the left side of your as his lips descended. Sucking and biting gently at your throat until they reach your chest and wrap around your nipple piercings. Metal clanking salaciously as his tongue swirls, toying with each little bar. His cock throbs again and your head falls back into the throw pillows with a loud moan. The arrogant smirk against your already heated skin only sends fire dancing.

Crackling and humming with each touch. They say fire needs oxygen to grow and Harry was yours. Always has been, he ignites all your fires.

Pulling back slightly, salacious evergreen meets thunderous oceans as he speaks, “So fucking pretty.” His words come out as a rasp, full of raw desperation. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad.” Kisses pepper your face, “Wanna make you feel so good, please? ”

“Y-yes,” You breathe, unable to finish the sentence as his kiss-bruised lips meet yours again and again, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your already open thighs, while yours run through his soft curls. Tangling and twisting as your lips move hungrily, desperately. Your teeth trap his tongue ring gently tasting and the sound that escapes his throat is feral. His body pushes against yours as you devour each other. Urgent, hungry, and like you might run out of time or change your mind. Hot, open-mouth kisses descend from your lips to your jaw then stop at the base of your throat.

“Fuck,” The word’s rushed, nearly a pant, as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The view of his gorgeous, toned body sends a shiver down your spine. The butterfly on his chest fluttered with each rapid breath. His abs jutting and rippling like it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there. Rough yet gentle hands feather your ribs, gliding effortlessly until they pause at your hips, leaving trace currents branding me with each tortuous touch. The rings on his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips despite how gentle he’s being. A surprised gasp leaves my lips in a whimper as his grip tightens holding you into place. Your hips tilt, wanting to feel him and he groans, nostrils flaring like he’s in pain, “Want you so bad,” His nose runs against your jaw, “Not gonna last if you keep moving, Lil.”

“Sorry,” You breathe letting your head fall back as it swims with every effortless emotion you feel for him.

“Shh, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect, look at you.” He whispers, the gravelly tone of his voice sending vibrations between your thighs making you ache. A completely desperate ache for him that would be embarrassing if it was anyone but your Harry. Suddenly, he’s kissing you but lazily this time. His lips moved so painfully slow and tender against yours. Kissing like you have all the time in the world. As soon as you match his pace, he breaks the kiss sighing deeply against your parted lips. He studies your face, evergreen locked on blue, as he slowly drifts between your thighs. His hands follow him, traveling down your inked body with ease, until they lock around your upper legs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, trying to keep up with his pace. He ignores you, placing drawn-out kisses trailing from your left hip to inner thigh. Soft moans leave your parted lips each and every time his mouth touches your skin. His kisses are getting closer and closer, nipping and sucking, teasing and torturing. It’s too fucking much. “Harry-”

“Need something, Lil?” He sucks harder on your hip, leaving a purplish bruise on porcelain skin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze with a lazy smirk. So effortlessly sexy.

“Please-” Desperateness clings to the word as your head falls back, unable to handle seeing him between your legs.

“Please what?” Harry smirks against heated skin as your hips move forward, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want-” The sentence pauses at the tip of your tongue. No one’s ever asked what you wanted before. “I’ve never-” Your brows push together trying to find the right word but he reaches up, fingers smoothing the line between them like he understands.

“It’s okay,” He runs the flat of his tongue against your clit and your knees almost push together from pleasure, the round of his tongue ring hitting perfectly. Like he knows exactly what you need. Burning evergreen disappears into the back of his head as he moans against you, fingernails digging into your skin. “Taste so fucking good, Lil. Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

“Fuck,” The whimper that comes out of you is pathetic as he lifts your leg, draping your right knee over his shoulder, tongue circling with no mercy. Flicking and sucking and teasing as he changes pace. Your head falls back feeling his piercing tease your entrance with each flick of his perfect tongue. Your fingers laced into his wet curls, tugging as he pulled back, eyes meeting yours. Bringing his left middle and ring fingers to your lips, manually parts them until his fingers push past your bottom teeth. The cold metal of his rings hits your warm mouth. Evergreen dances darkly as they glide across your tongue until you gag around them. He exhales roughly, head cocking, “Mmm, suck. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his fingers as your eyes lock. He moves them in and out a few times before withdrawing. Never breaking eye contact, pink lips puckering around my clit as his fingers tease your entrance. He watches you intensely, so fucking intensely as his fingers match the pace of his tongue. Your eyes flutter in pure fucking bliss as your grip on his hair returns. Pulling and tugging, making him groan so deeply, “Lil.”

Your name came out of his mouth with the same electricity that courses through your veins whenever he’s around. Hot, entrancing, unfuckingdeniable, and your undoing. White, hot pleasure hits so hard that you try to close your legs but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them open, easing you through it. Your breathing evens out as Harry watches you between your open thighs. His head tilted upward, lips parted in amazement, evergreen bouncing around your face like he’s committing every muscle movement to memory.

“For fucks sake.” He exhales, blinking in complete astonishment.

“Hmm?” The word comes out lazily, so fucking easy like your smile.

He hovers, face inches from yours, hazy eyes blazing with lust. The end of his cross necklace bounces off your bottom lip a few times. “So pretty when you cum, Angel.”

Fuck, in one swift movement, you push his chest backward completely straddling him as his back hits the couch. Long, ring-clad fingers grip your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, kissing slowly, tongues tangling lazily. He tastes like you and it makes your head spin. His fingers tangle into your hair, blond waves fall, as he collects them wrapping the strands around his wrist. Breaking the kiss, your hands glide across his skin, feeling every harsh breath and ridge before settling between his legs. Every flutter of his butterfly as he breathes, how his abs constrict with each breath like he wants you so badly that it’s painful, and the vein resting next to the perfect v-line of his left hip. Taking a deep breath, your head tilts, meeting his hungry, beautiful gaze as your lips wrap around his head.

He lets out a loud moan, abs jutting, as your tongue twirls and teases. His head lolls back, lips parting while the moans come out so fucking feral; desperate. The grip on your hair loosens as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks with each suck. Honey curls fall you around like a curtain as he cups the back of your head, pushing you to take him deeper, never breaking eye contact. You almost wanna shut yours seeing how much adoration and attention and lust swims in his pretty irises. He starts moving his hips slowly, testing, and relaxing your jaw. His jaw tightens with each thrust, moaning so fucking loud, lips puckering around a needy exhale, “I-fuck-I’m not gonna last.”

Flattening your tongue, a hum in appreciation and that makes him break. The soft green of his eyes darkened as control slips with each thrust. “God, look at how pretty you look wrapped around my cock.” He groans even louder and you gag around him. His hips slow, “You can take it, just like that, so fucking good.”

Your cheeks hollow as his movements grow more frantic. More fucking desperate. Twirling your tongue, he pulls out, cupping your jaw again as he cums. Painting your chest in the most filthy way. Head tilted back, eyes shut, pumping his cock as he whimpers. Blush spreads up his throat, neck vein popping in the sexiest way, and perfect lips parted in pure ecstasy; pure bliss. He’s the most devastating man you��ve ever seen. The minute your gazes meet, your breathing halts. So many emotions battle to come to the surface as lush forests meet raging oceans. The push and pull that is us. This is a moment where you just stare at each other in understanding. Letting your eyes say what you’re afraid to admit out loud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Harry’s voice is gentle and soothing while his fingers trace your jaw before disappearing. You count his footsteps but don’t respond. The weight of what happened crashed into you like a freight train. Your breathing accelerates instead of steading as everything plays out. You don’t want to lose him when this doesn’t work out. The thought comes quickly and like a bucket of ice water. Panic setting in because you can’t lose him. You can’t lose him over one night of weakness. Shit, the uncertainty feels heavy on your chest, heavier than it should because there’s no one you trust more. He’s your best friend.

“Lil?” Hesitantly, your eyes snap to your favorite shade of green. Allowing them to travel his peaceful features, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Everything about him is relaxed and unguarded as he starts cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. The light stubble on his sharp jaw to pink parted lips to the freckles on the bridge of his nose that you wouldn’t see unless you were close enough. Your fingertips ache to trace the path, feel each little freckle and plane of his face, until they’re touching his pink lips. Sometimes, you wish memories worked like photographs or something so you could accurately remember how being in his arms feels. How finally being his feels until unrelenting reality hits. You’re not his, Grace is, and that hurts worse than you thought. His lips tip into a left-sided smile, “There she is.”

“Here I am,” You smile back, cheekbone gently compressed by his long fingers.

Dark curls sticking up in different directions, evergreen eyes following every detail of your face, a red hue dusting across his cheeks, and his once parted lips tugging into a sleepy smirk, “You still with me, Lil?”

“Always.” The word came out fast because you were with him. Maybe too with him. “Gonna get dressed real quick.” A giggle escapes your lips, “Don’t have the money for Ellie’s therapy bill if she walks in.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, running a hand through long curls, “She’d probably ask to join.”

Your phone buzzes two times and something inside you freezes. You know it’s Rylan, no one else but him and Harry text you this late. The playful expression on Harry’s face slowly drains into something that resembles pain as he hands it to me. The sudden change makes your stomach turn in the worst way.

From: Ry (2:30 am)

Sorry about tonight.

From: Ry (2:31 am)

Can’t lose you over a stupid argument, Lil. I know you and Styles are just friends and you wouldn’t touch him. Sorry for being a jealous prick.

That stomach-sinking guilt comes back full force and causes your mouth to flood with saliva. You pull the Nirvana shirt over your head and turn to explain but he’s already looking at the wall. His jaw tense, so tense that the hinges are bulging, but expression is stoic. He swallows, the columns in his throat tense then relax showing just how hard the salvia was to get down. You linger on his side profile for a second, appreciating the beautiful yet masculine planes of his face, before clearing your throat. He blinks a few times before turning slowly to meet your eyes. The words rush out of your mouth, “Harry-”

Playful evergreen darkened to forest green, “I better go.”

You jump to your feet, following behind him quickly, desperate to explain. His back to you, broad shoulders sagging, as he works to unlatch your window. The glass opens with a thud and you expect him to leave but he doesn’t. Ring-clad fingers grasp the ledge, knuckles blanch, as he just breathes. You count to fifteen waiting for him to look at you but he doesn’t. 240 long, excruciating seconds pass. Exhaling harshly, his voice is hoarse, “We need to tal-“

“Friends?” You blurt, not letting him finish. Needing to know you’re okay, eyes volleying between him and the notification on your phone.

He pauses, hand resting on the windowsill, so much pain in those evergreen eyes you love so much. There he was, always taking care of you. Even if it means hurting him.

“Yeah, Lil.”

Your attention stays on the window as he slips out without giving you a chance to respond. Everything smells like him, a mouthwatering mixture of fresh laundry, peppermint, and something earthy like the wind. Even your skin has traces of him that you don’t think you’d be able to wash off. The memory of tonight permanently embedded into you and there is no denying it. How his mouth felt, his hands on you, the sound of his raspy voice slowly ruining you for anyone else.

What the fuck did you just do?

586 notes · View notes

fvnalgirlcomplex · 5 months

Text

PRETTY ISN’T PRETTY ✸ J. HUGHES

and it begins!! this is irl but also mostly social media au because my tumblr is/was acting up and deleted most of what i had written and.. i’m lazy so!!! reader is referred to as ‘you’ and their looks are talked about but i tried to avoid describing looks… however… reader doesn’t have blonde hair but listen like every nhl fic uses a blonde girl for the fc so. i think its justified!! but sorry to anyone blonde reading lol. i didn’t rlly know how to end this tbh but i hope it’s still good and i hope u like it!! remember that you are beautiful! any negative things said obviously aren’t true :)

warnings: light mention/implication of an eating disorder, insecurities, hate comments, reader gets picked up (lowkey manhandled a little bit), suggestive comments (2), unedited writing

masterlist, series masterlist

fc: olivia rodrigo ( oliviarodrigo on ig )

summary: dating jack wasn’t gonna be easy, you knew that. you just thought him traveling a lot was gonna be the hardest, not being picked apart by his fans.

bought a bunch of makeup,

tryna cover up my face

i started to skip lunch,

stopped eatin’ cake on birthdays

youruser

liked by lhughes and 56,890 others

youruser 22!! shout out to cole caulfield

view 182 comments…

colecaulfield thank you for the shout out. I really needed it.

youruser anything for a fan

user19 she’s so cocky omg

yourfriend the cake was so good! you should’ve had some :(

youruser the cake wasn’t very big and i don’t really like cake that much anyways lol glad you liked it though!!

jackhughes ❤️

liked by youruser

user373 at least she chose a blurry pic so we don’t have to see her face lmaoo

jackhughes

liked by trevorzegras and 120,293 others

jackhughes birthday girl 🎂

view 367 comments…

_quinnhughes haps

youruser damn. not even a full sentence 😔

user14 even his brother doesn’t like her lmao 💀

user298 i hope she knows she’s public enemy #1

user63 bro could do sm better

trevorzegras big! 22! 2️⃣2️⃣

user86 the way she looks at him though 🥹

user7 no..

user329 why are you so miserable

user738 he did her so dirty with the second picture 😭 makeup can only do so much but somehow she looks even worse than i imagined with no makeup

“I didn’t know it was such a big deal—”

“It shouldn’t have to be a big deal, Jack! I asked you not to post it, I don’t understand why you don’t listen!”

Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were taking your insecurities out on Jack when it really wasn’t his fault. But, it’s hard to stay calm when you’ve started to hate what you see everytime you look in the mirror, or someone takes a picture of you and that’s when you have makeup on. Words couldn’t describe how gross you feel without makeup on.

“I think you look gorgeous. I don’t know what the issue is.” Jack responded, too nonchalantly for your liking.

“The issue is that I don’t think I look gorgeous so I don’t want it out in the world for all your fans to see.” Jack sighed at your response. He knew what this was about but to him, you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He just couldn’t grasp how someone like you could be insecure.

“Y/n…” He said softly, grabbing the sides of your face. The mood in the room had quickly changed from tense to sad as soon as the word fans was mentioned. “You’re stunning. I know you don’t believe me but, you really are. All those comments are from a bunch of teenage girls who are jealous. I know it’s hard to block out but you just have to try ‘cause I wanna show everyone how pretty my girl is, okay?” Jack finished, trying to cheer you up. It didn’t really work to be honest but still, through glass eyes, you looked up at him and nodded before he brought you into a comforting hug.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But it wasn’t just teen fan girls. It was also grown men. Men your boyfriends age who thought you were just as hideous. They couldn’t have been doing it for the same reasons as the fan girls. They had to have just been being honest, right?

‘cause there’s always somethin’ missin’

there’s always somethin’ in the mirror

that i think looks wrong

when pretty isn’t pretty enough,

what do you do?

You loved spending time with Jack. And you also loved getting to spend time with the people he cared about. But the pressure of looking good before going knowing that pictures would be taken, with or without you knowing, made you want to puke.

You started planning out your outfits far in advance, what shoes, how you’d do you hair, your makeup. Everything. You told yourself over and over again that the outfit is cute. You asked Jack about it and he always reassured you that you would look beautiful in anything and the friends you’d ask say the same thing.

But that still wasn’t enough to stop your brain from making you think everything was wrong. No matter you were wearing, when you looked in the mirror it just looked… wrong. Like something was missing.

“Babe?” Your boyfriends voice came softly through the bedroom door. Jack had invited you to the Devils Halloween Party this year which would be your first New Jersey Devils event. Jack and Luke were wearing matching spider-man costumes with Nico and Dawson who were currently at the brothers apartment. “You ready?” He asked you as he poked his head into the bedroom before fully stepping in, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, I was just looking for my cat ears.” Lie. You were overanalyzing yourself like you always did before you went out but you knew if you told Jack that he’d feel bad and tell you that you didn’t have to go if you weren’t comfortable.

It wasn’t clear if Jack really believed your lie but he glanced around the room for the headband anyways before finding it on the edge of the bed next to you and placing them on your head for you.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed from when you were putting on your boots before you caught a look at yourself in the mirror, you looked up at Jack, who’s hands stayed on the side of your face after gently placing the headband on you.

Words weren’t exchanged as he looked at you, his thumbs tenderly moving over cheeks. He moved down to place a lovingly soft kiss on your forehead and then your lipstick covered lips.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your mouth. You almost believed him.

njdwag.updates

liked by jackhughes and 2,384 others

njdwag.updates y/n at the halloween party with a fellow wag. she went as a black cat 🐈‍⬛

view 103 comments…

theotherwag sweetest girl to ever exist 🩷

user273 jacks like 🥹

user33 is this a safe space?

user649 depends…

user33 i love yn. and i love yn and jack!! they’re so cute and it’s so obvious everyone that hates her is just jealous :/

user472 REAL!!! they claim to be fans of jack but hate to see him happy… like something isn’t adding up??

liked by 208 others

user634 wait jack went as spider-man and she went as a black cat?? she’s kinda funny for that

user710 jack probably didn’t want to outright match with her 💀

user845 her standing next to another wag.. this is so sad like jack!! wake up!!

and everybody’s keepin’ it up, so you think it’s you

i could change up my body and change up my face

i could try every lipstick in every shade

but i’d always feel the same

‘cause pretty isn’t pretty enough anyways

njdwags

liked by 1,266 others

njdwags y/n y/l/n at her colleges football game with friends!

view 103 comments…

user968 everytime there’s a picture of her standing next to someone it really highlights how ugly she is LMAO

user263 idk why people hate her sm she’s so pretty

user945 she’s even prettier in person! i met her at the game and she was so nice. it’s so sad to see all the hate she gets :(

liked by njdwags

user293 we have class together!! she’s literally so sweet and smart

user683 ugly ass

user78 she chose a college football game over her boyfriends hockey game…

user537 why does she always have her tongue out 💀

and i try to ignorе it, but it's everythin' i see

it’s on the poster on the wall, it's in like every magazine

it’s in my phone, it's in my head, it's in the boys i bring to bed

it’s all around, it's all the time, i don't know why i even try

It’s like you couldn’t stop yourself from reading comments on posts about you. You knew you should ignore but it seemed impossible to ignore at this point.

You knew the comments would be negative like they always were but you always had hope they would be nice for once. And there was nice ones sometimes! But most were so overwhelmingly negative, you couldn’t even focus on the positives.

And it wasn’t just comments either, no. Not anymore at least. Since, you’ve read the comments, it’s like all the negative has leaked out of your phone and into every aspect of your life.

It was when you visited your family over winter break, you had totally forgotten about the posters you had in past years of icons from your childhood. Icons who were so how all skinny or blonde or had stunning blue eyes or all three. The break was supposed to get you away from all that and yet, you still cried yourself to sleep that first night.

Every aspect of life also included you and your boyfriend. You knew before you and Jack had started dating, he was constantly liking other girls bikini pics on instagram. And even though he had stopped doing that, you’d still seen tweets from his fans in the past joking about how he was “always at the scene of the crime” with a screenshot of his like on a picture of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. And while you tried to ignore it, you noticed of a pattern with all the girls. They looked a lot like the icons from your childhood. Nothing like you.

So now, late at night, when you were supposed to be having quiet and sweet moments with your boyfriend; your boyfriend that you didn’t get to see very often at that! You spent those moments thinking about those stupid likes on those stupid pictures of those stupidly beautiful girls.

And as for you, the comments had really gotten to your head. Even when you weren’t with Jack and you weren’t on your phone or in your childhood room. You still found someone to compare yourself to. It was like some kind of superpower.

and i bought all the clothes that they told me to buy

i chased some dumb ideal my entire life

and none of it matters and none of it ends

you just feel like shit all over again

Was this silly? It feel silly.

This didn’t feel like you but a change was needed.

Jack (and Luke) had been hanging out with the team all day and you had the day off. You had decided to spend the time alone shopping for clothes that you would’ve never worn before this past month and a box of blonde hair dye.

“We’re home!”

Luke’s voice rang through the apartment, snapping you out of your trance that you were in while staring out the box of hair dye taunting you on the bathroom counter.

“Y/n?” Now it was Jacks voice that made its way through the apartment.

“Bathroom!”

You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door before a knock on the door, hesitating before opening the door before him. He slipped in before locking the door behind him.

“I was gonna jump in the shower if he wanted to join me.” Jack told you, his hands sliding around your waist with his back to the door. Naturally, your hands slipped around to rest behind his neck, forgetting about the hair dye sitting on the counter.

“I think I’m gonna have to pass this time—”

“You’re gonna dye your hair?” Jack cut you off, his eyes focused behind you.

“Oh- Yeah, I just, um, wanted a change I guess.”

Jack didn’t say anything or take his eyes off of the box of hair dye. He didn’t buy it for a second but he just didn’t understand. How could you not see how beautiful you were. Jack had known the comments were bad, he just didn’t realize they were getting to you this badly. He looked back to you, who had a guilty look in your eyes. Jack sighed before moving you over to the counter, placing you next to the box.

“Baby, if you really want to dye your hair blonde; go for for it. But I don’t think you want to.” You couldn’t even look at him. You felt embarrassed that you’d been confronted about how out of hand these insecurities have gotten, even if it wasn’t really your fault. You felt like a child being scolded. “I know we’ve talked about this before but you really have to listen to me this time okay, babe?”

Jacks hand came up to your chin, gently pushing your head up to make eye contact with him.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I mean that. All those assholes just want to find someone to hate more than themselves and I’m sorry that dating me has made you a target for that. But blonde hair dye isn’t gonna make them stop. I’ll say something— I should’ve said something sooner but I’ll do it now. Just- Just don’t change for them because they won’t ever be happy. Pretty isn’t pretty enough for them, okay?”

You were crying now. Because you knew he was right and you were upset you had let them drive you crazy. You continued to cry as your boyfriends arm came around your frame. You uttered apologies, not quite sure for what, while his hand rubbed your back.

After a while, your tears stopped and Jack pulled away. “I love you. And I told you, if you really want to go blonde, go for it. I mean, you’ll look hot either way—”

“Jack!”

“Okay, okay. Blonde or no blonde.” He asked with a small smile on his face, holding up the box of hair dye.

“No blonde.”

Jacks smile grew as he threw the box into the trashcan. His hands slid down to your thighs, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“So… can we get that shower now?”

#GUTS SERIES🩸#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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crljhnn · 1 year

Text

The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #fem!reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fluff #first meeting #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #fanfic

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

Text

The Tragedy of Faith

So between tumblr and twitter I've read various takes on Kar'niss and what draws people to him. For some it's the monster fucking appeal, for others it's the desire to fix a clearly broken individual. There are in-betweens and of course this is subjective and depends on the person. Act 2 spoilers ahead. Where my personal interest comes from is how good Larian communicated the tragedy of faith and what a cult can do to a person. Kar'niss is a creature that has been broken by not one God, but two. Lolth broke him physically, the Absolute broke him mentally. His entire identity has been lost to a deity to the point he raises her in his speech. Referring to her as "Majesty" and "Queen", two terms you don't really hear anyone else address her as, he has elevated her to his final savior and leader. He also often refers to himself as "we" and "us", cementing him as part of the hive mind rather than holding any individuality of his own. When he does refer to himself as "I", it's mostly to show further loyalty to the Absolute, to maintain a position of importance in his fractured mind. Cults are notorious for targeting the most vulnerable in society as they are the easiest to mold and manipulate to their doctrine. The fact that goblins are one of the main races that fall to the Absolute's influence is telling in that regard, as they are often dismissed by the other races. Kar'niss was ripe for the picking, an easy target to lure into her arms. No doubt he was found shortly after Lolth twisted him into a drider and banished him, he didn't stand a chance.

Not even taking those elements into account, Kar'niss came from a society that is infamous for cruelty and violence, especially toward males of their species. Drow greatest hits include, but are not limited to: -Killing their young if they are not aesthetically pleasing enough. In other words, ugly. -Sacrificing every third born son to Lolth.

-If a male finds the favor of two competing females, it often doesn't end well for the male. The rival woman will kill the male and chuck his dead body into his opponents bedchambers, just for the sake of being petty.

-Love and emotions of any sort are in short supply, if not outright unseen as a general rule. The nature of drow to backstab and seek to rise in the ranks makes it near impossible to be anything other than fierce and domineering.

With these things in mind, it's easy to assume that Kar'niss had a turbulent upbringing and likely suffered untold abuse from many around him. It's not to say that good or reasonable drow don't exist, it's just not commonplace in a Lolthite society. Unfortunately, the game doesn't give us a great deal to go on as far as his past. What little he reveals only happens after he's dead, and even then its really a cliffs notes version. What we do know is that his devotion is intense and unwavering. He's willing to die for the Absolute because in his mind the Absolute are the only ones who care about him. We even see fellow followers talk down to him, dismiss him, and verbally eye-roll the guy. To them, his fanaticism is over the top and they follow the same God he does.

All told, this leads me to the conclusion that Kar'niss has never, or rarely, known true compassion in his entire life. He's been used as a puppet for one deity or another, and likely mocked or cast aside even when he did everything right. It doesn't surprise me that there are folks who desire a romance option, or barring that a side venture to break him free of the Absolute's hold. We don't know if Kar'niss did terrible things in his past, or where his moral compass sits as his entire personality revolves around God. But I'd love to know, and I crave more background on him in one form or another.

I've spent too much time thinking about different paths that could happen in-game. I also understand it's incredibly unlikely he'll ever become a companion. The sheer amount of time and resources needed to give a character a satisfying arc is likely more than Larian can do with other constraints, but maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. So Kar'niss lovers, platonic, romantic, or everything in-between...I gotchu fam. We stan the spooder bby. Someone get that man a blanket and a nice mug of hot cocoa. And a cult de-programming kit, one of those would be good.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #bg3 #drider #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #drow #early morning ramblings #this entire post was the long way of saying “I can fix him”#no judgement to the ones who want an ass full of web #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #my writing

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

bereal • k.m.g.

Pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, taking pics during sex!au Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is referred to as a girl, consensual pictures during sex that are shared to friends lol, swearing, degradation, objectification (tiny), a lot of oral (m. receiving), rope play (reader is tied up), marking, tiny use of toys, teasing, edging (m. &f. receiving), prolly oral fixation tbh, mentions of fingering (f. receiving), mentions of overstim, me thinking I'm funny again as usual, and like "you better cum fast" kinda thing fjkdsj um pls lmk if i missed smth WC: 2.5k A/N: helloooo I had no idea what BeReal was so this was a bit of an experience 😬 would just like to thank @/princessbetsy123-blog for their patience and understanding, I hope I did well haha also omg tumblr user onlyseokmins is writing non-sub gyu? show-stopping (derogatory) also huge thank you to @a1sh1teruu for the mingyu pic! ❤️ @princessbetsy123-blog asked: can you do any member where his BEREAL goes off during sex and their friends react? The reader has hickies all over her chest and neck and is tied up?

Ding!

⚠️ Time to BeReal. ⚠️

• 2 min left to capture a BeReal and see what your friends are up to! •

"Would you look at that, baby? What perfect timing, d'ya wanna show everyone how pretty you look?"

Your butt rests gingerly against the back of your ankles, wrists bound together behind your back. The soft ropes limiting your arm movements match the ones winding across your body that Mingyu spent over half of the afternoon tying, untying, and tying again with his large-ass fingers until he was satisfied after reading detailed instructions from Minghao.

Finally able to perfect the multi-colored knots and ties that looked absolutely lecherous yet stunning across your naked body, rubbing and squeezing all the right places. It doesn't matter whether you remain still like the obedient slut you are or wriggle and writhe in anticipation of what the man's going to do next to thrillingly torture you, you felt their restriction.

"Yeah, Gyu."

"The prettiest," he murmurs, thumb slipping under the ropes that accentuate your breasts. Your posture is helpfully corrected and uplifts your chest in a flattering manner so he can nip and suck as he likes without you wiggling away.

You mewl at the binds tightening, arching your back as much as you can while he traces patterns connected by the harsh love bites you can feel littered across your skin that he'd left earlier.

Your body aches pleasantly all over. Having been edged for hours by now, it was well into the evening after a combination of intense, loving foreplay and the still-buzzing vibrator abandoned on the bed sheets from the distracting notification chime of his phone instead. You lean into his tickling touch as it slides up your neck, following more bites that scream "Mine!" all over.

"Mine," he confirms aloud with a whisper. "Will you let me show them how true that fact is?"

"Only… only if you let me cum."

Your eyes close as he holds your cheek tenderly and aims the phone's camera lens. A sheen of arousal sticks to your thighs and no doubt ruined the ties around them with how much of a mess he's created out of you.

"Of course, love. I'd be an incompetent fool if I didn't and couldn't make such a pretty thing like you cum at least once."

He should've thought of that earlier, is what you want to snark back but you're too desperate to give him any attitude for his blabberings. He would never deny you anything for too long anyways.

Though you take the opportunity to bite lightly on the knuckle of the finger that somehow pushes past your lips, grazing your upper teeth down until right before his nail bed begins, opting to suckle at the tip instead. Swirling it around languidly and sloppily, saliva coating every inch of his finger to soothe the stinging indentation marks you feel out with your tongue.

"Dirty girl."

"Mhm, but I'm your dirty girl."

"Damn right you are."

He knows what you're playing at, what you're trying to prove. The vixen-like gleam behind those fluttering eyelashes as you dare to smirk — releasing his finger with a sickening pop that his cock wishes was it instead.

But he manages to hold back, intent on finishing his own little game before he fucks you stupid so you can't continue to tease him like this.

"One minute left. What position do you think would look best? There are too many to decide from."

Ever the photographer, Mingyu groans because he's utterly turned on (and continues to lose his mind over how good you look) but also due to frustration (again, over how perfect you are from every angle) for you as his muse sources an ever-flowing spring of inspiration. A blessing and a curse.

He's moving back and forth across the mattress, unintentionally jostling your tied-up form with his large body. You dumbly choke out "dick" when he nearly falls into you with the usual Mingyu-clumsiness you know and love. Luckily he possesses the brain cell at the moment to connect the dots between his covered crotch nearly shoved right into your face versus you actually insulting him.

"Baby wants my dick?"

You nod fervently, wishing you could reach your hands out and grab it. Instead, you opt to open your mouth as wide as you've memorized the impressive width of his cock, tongue lolling out as well for the heavy weight of it.

Mingyu full on moans — loudly — at your frenzied eagerness. Watching hungrily as your lower body shifts and your thighs squeeze together, skin straining against the tightened constraints of the rope. Evidence of how much you want him shows all of your body. From your lidded gaze to your puffy, neglected clit he can just imagine prettily between your legs — and it makes his chest swell in pride.

He's quick to shed his boxers and absolutely cannot resist a little love slap to your cheek with his throbbing, aching dick. Smugly painting your cheek with a shiny smear of precum and tapping your awaiting tongue teasingly, not letting your lips wrap around him.

Yet.

The timer is set and so is Mingyu's mind.

But yours is as well.

"Damn it, thirty seconds and I can't decide what's best."

You watch in mild irritation at the way he holds his dick with a frown of renewed concentration, bringing it in and out of the frame of his phone lenses. It's like he's teasing you again but this time not on purpose, the leaking head of his cock bobbing closer and then away from you.

While you normally admire his talents at getting perfect, incredible shots on the first take, the purpose of BeReal was authentic pictures within the randomly selected global, two-minute time slot. Mingyu's pride was always on the line for some reason (probably a stupid bet between the boys). Only one snapshot and never a second late but at this point, all you cared about and wanted was some action.

You're aware of how turned on he already is, watching the occasional veined palm rubbing against the growing bulge in his boxers. Stroking at it in the same motions as the vibrator he'd teased you with. A new set-up like this excited him (and you), evident by the dark wet stain where the tip of his cock strains against the fabric of his underwear.

So, when he draws closer again, you lunge forward almost losing your balance but that just works to your advantage as you practically swallow and then choke around his goshdarn dick. Incredibly adept from tons and tons of practice, size training, and testing with his large package pays off, working to your advantage without an insane amount of prep work.

Mingyu lets out a hiss, a crazed look of insanity mixed with lust, affection, and wonder swimming in his narrowed eyes. He runs his hands through the sweaty black bangs strewn across his forehead, meeting your pleading tear-filled gaze with a huff.

"What, does my baby think she can make me cum quick enough?"

You answer him with your actions, rather than wasting words because your mouth is stuffed full of cock anyways. Though it doesn't stop the filthy gags as you take him boldly down the throat, bobbing and nodding your head in what end up looking like successive 'yes' motions, intent on pushing him over that edge.

"Yeah, just like the pretty whore she is."

And as Mingyu's pretty little whore, you know exactly what makes him tick — or cum, for that matter.

Stilling your head and swallowing around him several times before you have to back off for air. Not leaving him unattended for too long, you start nuzzling the underside of his cock as you catch your breath. Licking between his balls and mouthing each one with some special attention to make up for the lacking use of your hands. Following the prominent vein that leads all the way up to his swollen tip, collecting salty excesses of precum with a promised swirl of your tongue.

Rinse and repeat.

You make a point to meet his gaze every time his eyes flutter open with the most babygirlism look you can attempt with a cock in your mouth. Not that it's too difficult to achieve with how much you want him to give into you.

"Desperate little slut, you want me to feed you my cum, don'tcha?"

Despite his words, Mingyu's already shaking after only three smooth rounds of your perfect little mouth routine. Teasing, tiny variations and switch-ups to keep him guessing with that one brain cell that's deteriorating. His resolve, especially when it comes to you, is terribly weak and crumbling by the nanosecond. It doesn't matter how defined his six-pack is as it ripples with each shuddering intake of air he breathes in or those toned arms that twitch, bulging and flexing as he tries not to break the phone in one hand or rip out strands of hair with the other.

Even his thighs are trembling like a newborn lamb. Oh, how you wish you could place your hands against them but watching the muscles ripple in front of your eyes is rewarding enough. Although, your neglected pussy aches and you can't help but lightly grind against the back of your own shins searching for some semblance of relief.

And when he takes notice of what you're doing, that alone is enough to tip Mingyu over the edge. You know it before he does.

"Gonna… god, gonna give it to you, pretty baby. Fill up that dirty mouth of yours."

The low and guttural moan of pleasure turns into a pathetic whine full of frustration because you completely abandon his cock. Leaning back and away, you watch with thirstful glee at the way it bobs up and down, a shining mess from precum and your spit.

But little spurts of white pool out of his tip, a painfully slow and almost stilted release because of the sudden departure of your warm mouth. He growls your name and swears when all you do is lick your lips with a smirk like a cat that was asked if it ate the missing canary.

"Revenge," you manage to croak out with a sore throat.

"Revenge, my ass."

Mingyu can't complain all that much given what tortures he'd put you through earlier but that doesn't hide the cute little frowning pout on his handsome face. He has enough wherewithal to re-aim his phone with his thumb poised over the shutter-release button. Predicting what you want as you lean in once more, tongue hanging back out as you bat your eyelashes up at the camera and incidentally — at him.

He can't help but curse you out a bit like you always do at him when the situation was switched. Muttering the filthiest, most derogatory rambles that have the empty walls of your cunt fluttering as he furiously rubs his aching cock with a large hand that barely diminishes either's size.

Finally, the successive ropes of white you've been waiting for spurt out, painting your face and landing on your tongue just as you like it. And you grin salaciously at the click of the lenses capturing the depraved image. Not just of you tied up on your knees, hands behind your back, lips swollen, and pretty face covered in splatters of white but the front camera catches Mingyu — albeit, pretty blurrily — throwing his head back and biting his lip as he cums.

And within seconds of the timer running out, he presses 'post'. Tossing the phone on the bed and pushing you down, the side of your body hits the bouncy mattress at the same time the inanimate object does. Mingyu easily loosens the ties and knots with a surprising amount of vigor despite his harsh panting, a wild look in his eyes. The vibrator that's still buzzing is increased one intensity level and you shudder in anticipation.

"You were saying something about revenge?" he questions with snark, lifting your thigh with his free hand, the toy coming closer to your dripping center — far away enough that it's not even close to touching you and yet you can still feel the powerful vibrations at a distance buzzing through the airwaves. "Where's that cute confidence now? Just opening your legs like the desperate whore you always are, hm?"

He spends the rest of his time working you consistently up to that precipice before dropping you like an elevator without its wires, unable to crash over that peak of pleasure. As if he hadn't done it earlier.

Again and again, with his fingers and that stupid vibrator until his cock has sprung back to life (in reality, isn't too long and yet it feels like forever). And then you're screaming, creaming, squirting, crying, and cumming over and over. Making a complete mess as he pounds your poor weeping pussy until you nearly black out, the both of you ignoring (or not even noticing) the hundreds of notifications lighting up Mingyu's phone.

*the8thwonder used RealMoji, :hao_disgusted:*

cherrycheol: well damn wish i could take back the time i just spent wondering what was keeping him from being the first to post 🤦

> gam3rbo1: u know gyu will do it w/o fail

> joshuahhhhhh: leave it to him to not miss a moment no matter what he's up to 🥴

*tangerineboos used RealMoji, :mingyu_is_loser:*

tangerineboos: can i report them??

> tangerineboos: their account IS private right?

> jeonghangel: why report she's pretty 🥵💦

> jeonghangel: altho i'd prefer NOT to see gyu's nutting face

> jeonghangel: THAT'S reportable 😒

> gam3rbo1: gyu might hit u jeonghan

> jeonghangel: 🤷 im into that

> tangerineboos: 🤢🤕 i'd prefer not to see at all

> black3y3: i could help u w/that 👍

> black3y3: isn't that how his gf's acct got banned

> dinostar: yes i reported her bc i thought her acct got hacked

> dinostar: turns out they just wanted to share their porn but forgot they were public 😃

*w00z1 used RealMoji, :jihoon_disapproves_15:*

realtiger: i thought pussies were banned

> junhehe: technically no pussy is seen

> realtiger: 🧐 SORRY i wasn't looking that close

> tangerineboos: does hoshi even know where or what the pussy is 😂🫵

> realtiger: yeah man there's 1 in wonwoo's moment as usual 🙄💀

> gam3rbo1: pls don't bring matilda into this her fur is too shiny for ur greasiness

> junhehe: 🫰 matilda deserves the world

> gam3rbo1: dni if ur not a matilda stan or jun ❌

> tangerineboos: yeah geez hoshi if miss tilda is a pussy wouldn't that make you one too 🤡🫵

> gam3rbo1: 🤨 i just said dni

> realtiger: lies and false slander i'm a tiger

> tangeringeboos: 🥊exactly. ur a pussy lolol

> realtiger: brb gonna go fight boo 👊

cherrycheol: ^ they won't be missed

> gam3rbo1: ditto

> joshuahhhhhh: at least seok hasn't posted or my eardrums would be bleeding

> dk21897: ummmmmmmmmmmmmm

> gam3rbo1: ope

> jeonghangel: speak of the devil and he shall appear

> joshuahhhhhh: 😮‍💨 no somehow the pizza he quick ubered just arrived

> dk21897: 😭😭😭😭😭😭 it was late so I had to wait!

> junhehe: isn't bereal supposed to be authentic??????????????????

> dk21897: why are you judging me when gyu is tying up his gf

> dk21897: shoot i can't @ her acct

> dk21897: BLINK TWICE IF U NEED HELP

> joshuahhhhhh: these noise canceling earbuds work wonders 10/10 rec

> jeonghangel: im sure she's just fine 🥴

> dk21897: TMI

> jeonghangel: 🤷 u asked

By the time the boys have worked out their back-and-forth commentaries, you're laying in Mingyu's arms as he scrolls, occasionally showing you what they've said. Half-asleep, you snort, "Should we thank Hao for the help?"

"I mean we could, but he'll deny it all."

He does, of course, since it's a public announcement — and criticizes how Mingyu had tied the knots from what he can see. But he kindly sends a new resource PDF the next day, a sarcastic warning attached to keep such things private if the two of you don't want to be judged on your technique.

onlyseokmins: March 2023 ©

#ez.creates #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #svt smut #svthub #seventeen smut #smut #kpop smut #1k 🌟#svt.smut

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deluluriddhi · 1 month

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𐙚 ❛ Authors In Love ❜ Society

(🪞 LIB?) 𐙚 synopsis: two childhood best friends

who are separated and can't reach eachother, becoming authors just to write about each other.

𐙚 pairing: author!Sunghoon x author!yn

𐙚 contains: Jake as Sunghoon's kpop idol friend, a little bit enemies to lovers, fluff, plotties plot, mentions of a big misunderstanding, heart warming, a little bit of agnst at the beginning, mentions of struggles of authors, total sfw content. (Lmk if I forgot anything)

𐙚 wc: ?????

𐙚 note: inspired from a reel I saw nearly a year ago but couldn't forget. I apologise for any mistakes becuz Tumblr didn't save my first draft. And yes, that reel's link I can't find anywhere but I always wanted to write an FF based on it. Thanks god I had the ss. Feedbacks, likes, reblogs and follows are appreciated! TAGLIST OPEN. ADD A COMMENT TO BE TAGGED IN THIS ONE OR/AND THE NEXT ONE. PART 2 , PART 3

𐙚 Riddhi speaks: so, you all got to know at last why I was so inactive these days? It was bcuz I was writing this. Glasses Sunghoon got a chokehold on me. The struggles of authors mentioned are half based on my struggles having this blog lol. Literary all the books I read are New York Bestselling. Ik this is really long ㅠㅠ good luck reaching the end! Please show love to this, I poured my all into this. ENJOYYY!!

𐙚 playlist: Lovers Rock by tv girl. Bound to fall in love　

24TH MARCH, 2018

AT THE AIRPORT

"Hoon dear, bid your good byes.", Sunghoon's dad said. "No dad! I don't wanna leave Y/N.", little Hoon said as he clung to your body with your arms wrapped around him.

"Aeroplane number 256, From Washington DC to Seoul will be arriving shortly at Terminal Number 4. Please hurry and get in a line to aboard the plane. Thank you.", a voice from the speakers said.

"Hoon dear, we have to leave., Sunghoon's mother said, pulling him apart from you. "No mama! I don't wanna go. I wanna stay with Y/N., Salty teardrops fell from his eyes as he tried to escape from his mother's tight grasps.

Your eyes flooded with tears as you saw him crying and going away. Small y/n only knew it was somewhere far and she is not gonna able to see him anymore; a far away fairyland, they said. Poor Y/N.

(24 years later)

24TH MARCH, 2042

Y/N'S BEDROOM, WASHINGTON DC

24 years.

It has been 24 whole years since Sunghoon had gone to Korea. 24 years without any contact with your childhood bestfriend. Both of your mothers were best friends before you two were born. They decided to live next to eachother, so that they could hang cut everyday. Then, they had you two. Sunghoon was a few months older than you. You two used to play all day when at your house when you two were little. Stick to eachother, go to school together, eat together, play together, you two were inseparable. That's how you two became best friends. You two were in love with each other, just too small for you two to understand but everyone around knew. But, unfortunately, Sunghoon and his family had to move when he was five years old. You were five years old too, wondering why he had to go. That really was a heartbreaking moment for both of you. None of you two could move on; face and name plastered in both of you two's heart. Every year, on this exact same day you wait for him to come back, putting a cross on that date if he doesn't but he never does.

You slumped down on the bed after crossing off yet another 24th March on the calander on the wall. He is gonna come back, you said to yourself, but you are unsure yourself. You glance at your unfinished book opened in Google Docs on your Laptop, it's deadline mally close. Well, being one of the most famous New York Bestsellers and Penguins' most liked author was hard. Well, what can we do? Looks like the audiance really books about your lost true childhood love. Yes, all the books you have ever written were all about Sunghoon, well, the audiance don't know that. How much you miss him, how much you love him, all the things you want to tell him, etc., was all you write in your books. Your pen name is Lee Nari.

But you had a competitor. Park Eun. Another author. He is best writer next to you, clase behind. It was always a competition between you and him, in everything, starting from Best Author of the Year award to Most Books sold award. Tho you two never met one another you have a kind of rage against him nor you have ever read his books or saw his photos. Because you never got the time to. "Argh, I hate this.", with that you started writing again.

(SAME DAY)

SUNGHOON'S ROOM, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

"Bad", he said as he deleted the one line he wrote. "BAD', he said again after a few minutes, tapping the backspace button aggressively. After a few more minutes, "BADDD", he shouted while kicking the leg of the table really hard which resulted in his own pain in return.

"Arag, I hate this", he slowly murmured under his deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He rubbed his feet before getting up from his chair and running outside in his lawn. Fresh air after hours of sitting like a shrimp in a chair, constantly typing down words on his laptop.

Park Sunghoon, or popularly known as Park Eun by pen name, is a 29 years old New York Bestselling author in Seoul, Korea.

Just as he was enjoying the nature a familiar voice from behind him came. "Hello Mister!". to no surprise it was his best friend, the first person to be friends with him after he came to Korea, Jake Sim. A soft slime tugged across Sunghoon's face as he turned around to look at Jake's face. "An off day from ENHYPEN?", Sunghoon asked him while walking closer to hug him. "Yeah.", Jake's voice laced with tiredness of being an idol, he said after burying his face in Sunghoon's shoulders and sinking in the warmth of his body. "Oh oh!", Jake excitedly said while breaking the hug, his face looking exactly like an excited golden retriever, "Look at this! Look at this!". Jake pulled out his phone from his pocket. "Aw man, Calm down', Sunghoon muttered under his breath, closing his eyes, as he saw the golden boy recklessly trying to find something on his phone. "There! I found it!", Jake exclaimed with his phone just infront of Sunghoon's face.

What shown on the screen was a teaser for Lee Nari's new book coming out shortly. Sunghoon was in rage. After all, Lee Nari, a person he doesn't know anything about, is trying to steal his position in the Author's World. She is his dearest competitor and sworn enemy, Yet, Sunghoon has never read her books or saw her pictures. They are the one that divides Bookstagram and BookTok into two. Sunghoon is still trying to beat her but she is quite a mile ahead of him. "yeah yeah, okay", Sunghoon told Jake, not wanting to talk about Lee Nari anymore. "So, how is Betrayed Love going?", Jake asked, sensing the atmosphere, "you are still writing about her, aren't you?". "yeah", Sunghoon quietly said, "I should go USA to meet her but I am so caught up with work here and I don't even know of she is still there.". Jake's succesful attempt to cheer up Sunghoon, "Hey hey! Show me the work!"

"till the end of the Earth, I will find you one day. Is that what you want?", Jake asked after examining Sunghoon's unfinished book on his Laptop. Sunghoon nodded as an yes, "but I tried my best to find her. She might be dead too, he said hugging himself and head hung down low. "Aw Hoonie! Don't say that! You will find her.", Jake said after engulfing Sunghoon in a warm hug, trying his best to comfort him. "It's you birthday soon. I will buy you a book from Lee Nari.." Jake suddenly said, smiling cheekily, "Well, it won't be a waste maybe.", Sunghoon said.

(A FEW DAYS LATER)

3RD APRIL, 2042

Y/N'S HOUSE

Ding Dong.

Y/N's house doorbell rang. "Oh God, who is here so early morning?", you complained but dragged your feets to open the door.

You were greeted by the Mailman with a package which seemed to be for you. He quickly handed you the parcel and took his leave. You stared at the packet in your hands.

It was sent by one of your long distance friends saying that you might like what was Inside. Curious, you closed the door and sat on the sofa to unwrap the packet rather vigorously just you know what was inside. You your utter disappointment, it was a book by Park Eun. You were about to throw it away but it was the book description written on the back which made you curious. Broken Hearts? Impressive. You skipped to the first chapter of the book and started reading. And the next moment you knew, you were so deep into the book that the whole world outside was mute to you.

It was a story. A story about how a girl saved him from a falling off a hill when he was little and from then, he fell in love with her deeply but never saw that unknown girl anymore. After a few years he saw her in a dream. She had dark long black hair, doe eyes and kissable lips. But whenever he was to get near her it seemed like she was getting further away and he could never reach her.

"Wait, dark long black hair, doe eyes and kissable lips? But that's my description....." you realised, staring at that sentence. Soft fingers skipped over to the last page where an Email ID was given for any kind of issue with the book. Well you SURELY have an issue now. Or else, why would your sworn enemy write about your description in his book... Or was it coincidence?

"[email protected]...." You said as you typed the address in the address bar.

❛❛ Why did you mention my description in your book?

[pic of that sentence attached]

Why are you messing with me when you already know who is gonna take New York Bestsellers trophy home this year? Just so you know i am not gonna let you take this one home.

Lots of hate,

Nari ❜❜

Was what was written in the email you sent.

You were eating lunch when a notification came to your phone. Rather unwillingly you took a glance at the screen. Expecting it to be yet another reminder from the bookseller that your deadline is near but to your surprise it was a reply from Lee Eun's Email!! You never expected him to reply within one day. You choked on your food and gulped a whole bottle of water down. Quickly clicking on the notification to that replied email.

❛❛ Hi! Please text on this number for your queries: +82 20121112xxx. ❜❜

Confused but curious, you added that number to your WhatsApp and copy pasted the whole email.

(SAME DAY)

SUNGHOON'S ROOM, SEOUL, KOREA

"Hoon, how much more time are you gonna take?"

"just 5 more minutes"

Jake signed as he flopped down on the bed, tired of waiting for his friend to be back from shower. His eyes fell on Sunghoon's unlocked phone laying close to him. What made him more curious was the email notification from a rather known email showed on the lockscreen. Double tapping on the notification led him straight to that email. An Email from Sunghoon's sworn enemy. He decided to have some fun while sunghoon is gone. He thought, why not a little bit of Enemies to Lovers trope?

He attached Sunghoon's personal phone number with that mail...

He deleted that mail after it was sent, cleared it's whole existence.

"Jakey? What are you doing on my phone?", Sunghoon said after coming out of the bathroom, shocking Jake. "Ah-um-nothing-just ringing up my phone cuz it was lost haha", Jake said in a nervous tone and then ran to the bathroom.

Later that evening when Jake had gone back to his dorm, Sunghoon was chilling on the couch watching a movie with pop corn bits spread all around him, messy eater. A text from an unknown number alighted his phone screen, diverting his attention to it. But he was really confused.

Sunghoon's eyeballs were about to roll out of their socket. No way his worst enemy was texting him. He cursed Jake under his breath.

In anger, he threw away his phone across the couch, it's screen cracked. He is furious on Jake and your sarcasm, even tho, a weird thought crossed his mind that made him doubt himself.

What if Lee Nari is Y/n?

No, no, it cannot be

This thought the number of times crossed his mind made him breathless, pulling his hair and screaming. Lee Nari, his worst enemy can't be his lost childhood crush.

He couldn't sleep properly at night after those texts with Nari.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Send an ask for part 2. I promise this will be really exciting and my best fic ever.

#deluluriddhi #enhypen #kpop smut #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon hard hours #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon hard hours #enhypen sunghoon hard hours sunghoon sunghoon hard hours sunghoon hard thoughts enhypen sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fanfiction #riddhi writes✏️

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gorgeouslypink · 10 months

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Why They Entered the Void and You Haven't

One of the most popular things that I hear from my anons is complaints about how other people are able to enter the void so easily whereas the anon has been trying so hard and struggling forever. This was something that frustrated me a lot during my void journey too. I would log onto tumblr and everyday people who had just found out about the void state would meditate for 5 minutes and enter or just set an intention to wake up in and wake up in the void state and get to live their dream life. Something that really frustrated me was subliminals. Subliminal comment sections would be flooded with people who listened once or twice and entered whereas I would consistently listen for weeks and not get any tangible results. Even on my page, I always talk about compatibility but why are some people compatible with certain methods and others aren't, especially when you want to enter a certain way that so many people have entered but can't. It's super annoying and frustrating which sparks questions: why is it so easy for some people and not for others? why did they enter and you haven't?

The answer is very easy: the law of assumption!

I genuinely don't care if your a states girly or affirm and persist girl or a SATS girl or a subliminals girl or whatever else, all of these methods come back and tie into the main principal behind loa: Whatever you assume is true is the truth. Your assumptions harden into fact and become your reality. This is the basis of the law and it dictates our lives and it is the ideology behind all the methods as well. And this is why some people enter the void easily or with a certain methods while others struggle for months. We are all Gods but the difference between all of us is our assumptions and our assumptions are what leads to our compatibilities and our experiences during our void state journey.

This is why my favorite void tumblr era was the self concept/void concept era. Tumblr was overflowing with success stories for one simple reason; people weren't struggling over methods, they went straight to the root problem which was their void concept and once they fixed that, their 3d had no choice but to obey.

This is why I hate when people start complaining about methods or how challenges don't work or about bloggers. The problem will never be something external, the problem has always been you and your void concept.

You don't believe in loa. Kinda weird how you believe in the void state but not loa but just keep trying different methods and hopefully you find one compatible with you and your assumptions right now. Good luck! But if you understand what I'm saying, then there are 2 ways that we can go about this:

1. Fix your void concept. Choose whatever method you want. All of them work. States works, Intention works, Affirm and Persist works, Subliminals work, SATS works (personally my own recommendation), all the methods work. I highly recommend reading some manifestations books and trying to understand the law yourself (my personal recommendation is At Your Command by Neville Goddard, just search it up on Google and a free pdf pop ups). Understand the law and you will realize how imperative it is for life in general and the way you interpret the law will show you which method to pursue. Edward Art started off reading Neville and he interpreted the law into the practice of states which has been helping many people. I read a few of Neville's books and how I interpreted it lead me to SATS. Maya (@charmedreincarnation) who I think is one of the best bloggers on here for loa intepreted the law and uses intention. Do your own reading and see how you interpret it. Once you change your assumptions and fix your void concept, you are guaranteed to enter the void. It doesn't matter if you want to wake up in it or use yoga nidra, you will enter because that's how your assumptions will be.

2. The second way was the method I shared before my hiatus, but I think Maya's directions for it are more clearer so make sure to read this. Basically, in this method is just the intention method but on crack. The specific steps puts you in the ideal place where your intention will manifest do if you just intend to wake up in the void state, it will. You are using the law to use your advantage but are bypassing the things that hinder manifestations from being instant. Here are two success stories using this method: one and two.

I recommend combining both these ways and just entering tonight. For whatever reason, you can't do the second way, I don't want to hear any complaining. You know the problem is you. Use the first way, fix your void concept, and enter the void state. If you ask me, Im always going to be recommending SATS but just read Neville's books on your own and see what speaks to you. I also really recommend watching this wizardliz video for motivation.

I believe in you guys and I can't wait to see all the success stories.

#void state

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niconebula · 11 months

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I’m currently writing a college essay on the representation of Witches (and all Magical Girls) in Madoka Magica; I don’t know if I will be able to include this within the limits of the project so I wanted to share to Tumblr instead. It does not seem to be widely understood how much yonic imagery there is in the series and how important that is to the intended message.

For starters Kyubey is a walking uterus. The name of his species is literally Incubator (an enclosed apparatus providing a controlled environment for the care and protection of premature or unusually small babies; an apparatus used to hatch eggs or grow microorganisms under controlled conditions). He creates egg-shaped Soul Gems, and deposits the Grief Seeds back into his little receptacle. Why does he have such a weird design with two sets of ears? The lower ‘ears’ with the separated ends are actually modelled off of what Fallopian Tubes look like.

(Funny diagram but. It’s true! I’ll come back to this point at the end).

So then take this scene (thank god someone reuploaded it to YouTube):

youtube

“And you think a shit-for-brains hoe is going to be making that much in ten years? That body ain’t gonna last forever, you know.” “And then you dump ‘em, and they get all whiny!”

These two men are talking about the short term relationships they have with women, using them for their bodies and treating them like shit, and then dumping them immediately after - not understanding or caring as to how this upsets them.

It consistently baffles me how many people will completely throw out feminist readings of Madoka Magica. ‘Readings’ shouldn’t even be used - this is the main text of the goddamn show! You are free to argue that it failed at its message, or that the application was problematic, but for this scene in particular to fly over your head makes me discount opinions immediately.

Anyway, where have we heard this rhetoric before? “That body ain’t gonna last forever” - a young Magical Girl is always destined to turn into the Wicked Witch. “When you dump em’, they get all whiny!” - it is a Magical Girl at the peak of her despair who turns into a Witch, and Kyubey cannot and does not care for their human emotion.

The men cycle through their ‘hoes’ like Kyubey cycles through Magical Girls to get whatever his species supposedly needs to continue the universe.

I’m going to cut a break here for TW discussions of metaphorical rape and pregnancy involving minors, but this portion of the post is important.

Kyubey completely violates the concept of informed consent when he creates his magical girls - though he always argues that he did ask, and it’s in fact their fault (as fourteen year old girls) to not ask further questions.

Taking his form as a uterus alongside the yonic imagery of the show, it is implied that Kyubey has in some way ‘raped’ the girls. This is most evident in Sayaka’s arc; her insistence that becoming a Magical Girl has made her spoiled and that Kyousuke wouldn’t want to even kiss a girl like her.

Their transformations into witches further the idea that they have been ‘spoiled’, but also symbolize their transformation into adult women. Women who are ‘too adult’, and whose bodies are no longer attractive or useful to create babies anymore.

Goddess Madoka is even depicted as pregnant in the full Magia ending.

I feel like you could reason within all this symbolism that there’s a metaphor for specifically the coerced pregnancy and mothership of women. Something often considered the ‘ideal state’ for women and as you will see many conservatives argue, the necessary thing to continue society. In their minds, the subjugation of anyone they assign as women to these roles is necessary for society as they know it to continue for the imaginary people of the future who do not even exist yet.

Kyubey refers to the Magical Girls as cattle. He is there to help incubate and hatch the witch, and then throw the magical girl to the dust afterwards as she dies no longer useful. These girls are sacrifices to a far-off future that Kyubey promises them, he tells them that if no Magical Girls existed to hatch into Witches, humanity would not last long enough to see itself to the stars.

The incubator and his design, the soul gems and grief seeds, the pregnant madoka, the discussions about men liking their eggs a particular way by their homeroom teacher, it’s all very consistent. I’m not sure if my prospective readers have ever considered this within Madoka Magica - but try seeing it from this angle.

I didn’t find a way to work this into the post, but in addition: take the ancient myth of the wandering womb. This was the belief that so called over-emotional women were suffering from a condition where their uterus was moving in ways all across their bodies. It morphed into the more modern usage of female hysteria; hysteria coming from hystera- the Greek word for uterus. Kyubey thinks of the girls as constantly overreacting and overemotional. Hysterical.

#pmmm #madoka magica #posts made without proofreading #I trust in peoples reading comprehension ability to not take this as a trans exclusionary post #and if you think I’m reading too much into it idk what to tell ya just move on

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thevirgincherry · 3 months

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BELL JARS AND BUTTERFLIES !

ft. infinite darkness!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. emotional abuse, mom-son incest, power dynamics, sub leon, some references to past physical abuse not explicit tho, few drug references, p in v

note. hai :3 put id leon cuz that’s who i saw but!!! u can think ab whoever u want :3 thank u to @devilmayfuck for proofreading oh my gosh :3 still ignore mistakes bc I tend to make em while formatting! feedback n rbs so appreciated <3

tumblr removes fics that, for example, use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

It’s no surprise that Leon breached contract and put his dick in his shrink. He tends to do these things around women that sound like school teachers. To be fair, the contract wasn’t his to breach, she’s totally taking advantage of his vulnerability or whatever.

“You still live with your mother, Leon?” It’s a statement, not a judgement, he takes offence either way.

“She’s sick,” Leon says, and it’s a bold-faced lie, they both know that she, his shrink, has his file. That you’re well and alive. He doesn’t like to talk about you to her. Mainly because what you have done to him is private, no one else needs to know, it’s the only thing no one knows about him— The only thing that’s not written across his dossier in bright red is that he and mommy have a less than sound relationship. It’s the only thing that is his.

“Sick?” She’s not much older than you, and she’s not as beautiful as you.

“Sick,” He confirms, and it’s not far from the truth. Physically sick, nah, but Mommy might be, she certainly is, the biggest narcissist Leon has encountered in all twenty-eight years of his shitty life, and that says something. ‘Cause Leon works with the US government. He’s owned by them, actually, to say he’s working would be a lie— He’s been owned all his life, first by mommy, then by work, and Leon has started to think it’s always going to be this way. That it’s okay because he doesn’t have to dissect, ache and hurt like he does when he’s thinking.

When she tries to probe further, as it is her job, her duty, in the same way it is Leon’s duty to save the world on any old Monday, he leaves. The apartment is his by lease, but Leon has never stayed long enough to call it a home, he’s never considered it anything more than where you are.

His fist knocks against the lacquered wood, and you answer a minute or so later. It doesn’t suit you. Trying to fit in with all the D.C career women, prim and polished and intelligent, that’s just not you. At your core, mommy is trailer trash through and through. Your smile is artificial, and your nightgown is too, it’s ill-fitting, the only thing you’ve worn well is his father’s anger. Leon thinks that if he wasn’t so full of the milk of compassion, whatever it is Lady Macbeth said, he would help you out. Show you what you’re truly worth. Unfortunately, all Leon would like, all he has ever wanted, is his mommy.

“Leon,” Your concern comes sparingly, so he takes what he can, head dropping to your shoulder. He melts. You’re about as friendly as a loaded gun, but Leon’s got suicidal tendencies and all that jazz. “Baby, what happened? You look so thin, my goodness, you must weigh less than me.” It’s true, looks like he weighs seventy pounds soaking wet. Skin stretched thin over his bones. Teetering from left to right on ankles so thin they’re ready to snap. “What’s this? Looks expensive.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in his appearance, tracing the fabric of his Armani tie with tenderness you have never given to him.

“Ma,” Leon mumbles into your neck, he stumbles past the threshold and the door clicks shut behind him. All he wants is a kiss or two.

“Leon,” You say his name the way you did before, “That’s not my name, darling, you used to be such a good boy.”

“Mommy,” He corrects himself, it’s always been mommy and no one else, “I’m sorry for— I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Whether he comes or goes, you don’t care, your flippant nature drives him insane. “You’re too much like your father.”

He is not. If Leon was anything like that man, more scum than blood and flesh and bones, your face would be in the concrete. But Leon is your son, and he is who you’ve made him to be. Cowardly. “I’m sorry,” The words dry up in his mouth when your nails rake down his clothed chest, a soft whine slips from the base of his throat, like he’s a dog. Then you scratch behind his ear, and he really is a dog, tail between his legs and everything.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Mommy says, and you pout at him— Did you get your lips done? The money wired over to your account is for necessities. He’s a civil servant, there's nothing classy about that. You piss him off. You do. But you’re his mommy, and he loves you.

The bed smells like you, it was his once, but you take over every aspect of his life. Eat away at any part of him that isn’t appropriate by your terms, a vetting process harsher than the DSO’s. Now Leon’s here, faced with the same hole he crawled out of. The same hole he wishes to crawl back inside. It was safe in there. Warm and quiet. Darkness cradling him like you never have. The one place in which he cannot move, speak or be. The closet he can get to that is stuffing his dick inside.

“Outside clothes on my bed,” You tut, lifting back the covers so you can undress him, “What’s this?” In your hand is an orange tube that you’ve swiped from his back pocket. Leon blinks as you squint at the label. “Oh, darling, you don’t need these, let mommy keep them safe, alright?” Leon nods. That was a new prescription, paroextine, fluoxetine made him a smidge less suicidal, meaning instead of wanting to drive his car off the side of a bridge anytime he got in, he simply drove without a seatbelt in hopes of being crushed to death by a thirty-two tonne truck. Natural selection or whatever. Side effects were shakes, to the point where Sherry was worried he went and got himself put down in the Guinness World Records Book as the youngest recorded case of Parkinson’s disease.

“I need those, ma,” His voice breaks when you tuck them into your bedside cabinet, facing him with your beautiful, cruel smile.

“You don’t need them, Leon,” You gesture for him to come closer, he does, presses his face into your tits, and lets you tell him what’s right and wrong. When it’s coming from you it will always be wrong, but he’ll listen anyway. “It’s not real, baby, you know that, don’t you? I thought you were smarter than this— Shouldn’t be wasting all your money on therapy of all things, I mean, you go to talk for an hour and that supposedly makes everything better?”

“Mm,” Leon makes a noise that is both a grunt and a hum. Please, for the love of god, shut up and get him off— Do something. Hold him. Comfort him. You’re his mother.

“Then they want you to take all these pills-“

“They’re meds, ma,” He corrects for the sake of his— Well, for the sake of nothing at all. Not his ego, not his dignity, they have been depleted completely.

“Meds, huh? You can get addicted fast, and then next minute you know, darling, you won’t be able to function without them- You’ll be like a zombie.” You kiss the top of his head, cooing softly when he raises his head to look up at you like the sad, wet dog he is.

“It’s not crack, ma.”

I know you wish it was.

For an indolent lady who spent half her time doped up on what could only be described as sludge, putting morphine in his milk bottle, you do talk a lot of shit.

“Hah,” Your face changes, you laugh anyway, “You’re so funny, Leon.” You tell him, and he thinks, obsessively, that he would do anything to hear that laugh again.

“Thanks, ma,” Leon’s unrest is mollified by the featherlight touch of your hand on his bare chest, your nail drags down his sternum, as if you’re splitting him in half. It digs into the toughness of his abdomen, he squirms, “That feels weird,” He mumbles, unable to voice out his dislike properly.

“Leon,” You sigh heavily, heavier than his cock in his briefs, “You don’t feel anything, my sweet thing, you’re all empty inside.” He’s a bell jar waiting for its butterfly.

“My poor baby, look at you, can’t do anything without mommy.” Without mommy Leon doesn’t know how to be a real person.

“Can’t eat,” You trace his ribs, sticking out in odd angles through a yellowed layer of skin, “Can’t sleep,” The hollows of his face, his sunken eyes, they tell you everything, “Can’t even breathe without me, can you Leon?” Without mommy he has to be kicked in the gut so his lungs remember what it’s like to breathe. He has to constantly be on the verge of death to know what it’s like to live. “It’s so tiring, darling, I’m too old to be taking care of you.”

“Mommy,” Leon pleads, helplessly, the only manner in which he can behave is helpless.

“Baby,” You toy with his waistband, “You need mommy to help you feel, don’t you?” Feeling should be innate to a human being, shouldn’t it? “Even when you were a baby, Leon, you only cried when mommy did, I used to think it was sweet, but now, darling, it’s gotten a little old.”

Leon whines softly, animal-like, caught by the ankle like a hunted stag, “I’m sorry, mommy— I can’t help it.”

“Oh, it can’t be helped, Leon,” Mommy says impassively, because it is such a chore to jerk off your mentally stunted almost thirty-year-old son. It’s not his fault. He didn’t choose to be this sex-mongering freak that needs to be punished to get off, to not feel ill— To be alive. You started it, and Leon’s sure you’ll end it. Brought him into this world, and you’ll take him right back out of it. At the drop of a hat too.

Your nail, red and glossy and a tad too sharp, presses into his leaking slit. One hand curled around his jaw, the other down his pants. You fish his cock from his boxers, “Mommy was waiting for you,” That makes his chest ache, knowing that he had crossed your mind even once for just a split second, god, he could die a happy man, “Every time you leave I get so worried, I start thinking, well, gosh, how is my Leon doing without his mommy?”

Bad. He does bad in general. Around you it’s bad. He is entirely bad at all times, at every minute, every passing second. With you it’s less bad.

“I just miss you,” Leon says, helplessly beyond help.

“All the time?”

“All the time,” He agrees.

“Oh, baby,” You coo.

“Do you… Did you miss me?” He asks, breathless, twisting in your grip like he’s fitting. Your touch is a million pinpricks on exposed nerves. There's no answer, you just stroke his dick instead, and his moan shatters like an ice fractal. Leon wants to ask and beg and demand— He turns stupid too quick when you cup his balls, squeeze ‘em hard.

“So noisy,” Mommy spits on her palm, real classy, a bit of your whore heritage comes out— See that, it’s a real Kennedy move, dad would be proud. Then you get his cock nice and wet, pumping his shaft as he leaks through the gaps in your fingers. “My sweet boy, you used to be so cute. I miss when you were blonde— It happened to your dad too, it’s a shame.”

“Sorry,” Leon says as if it is his fault natural progression took place, his hips bucking upwards into your fist, schlick, schlick, schlick.

“Well, there’s no need to be sorry about it, you can’t do anything about it, Leon,” Well, at least you’re sane enough to know that, “You know what you can do, darling?”

He shakes his head, abs contracting, balls tightening, ready to blow—

“Clean up before you come to see me,” Your hand is gone, his dick twitches like there’s a parasite inside of it waiting to burst out, “I’m not stupid, Leon,” Your palm sits on his cheek, looking at his stubble with distaste, “And you should shave, look too much like your dad otherwise.”

The scruff is purely out of neglect for his appearance. Leon has never put much thought into it, no one’s ever complained, he’s fuckable. Very fuckable. So fuckable— It’s just you. Mommy says and Leon scrambles to do.

“Off you go then,” You shoo him away, force him to pick his discarded clothes off the floor, he tosses them in the laundry basket. His shrink left the print of her brown foundation on his collar— That’s what you meant by clean up.

In the bathroom cabinet he finds a packaged razor covered in a film of dust. His hand is shaking, nicks his chin once, the sting is not half as bad as your touch. When Leon returns, the nightgown is off, folded neatly on the side, he almost trips over getting to you.

“Mommy,” Leon mumbles around a mouthful of tit, like a proper stupid baby, dumbed-down to fit mommy’s taste.

“I know, baby,” You kiss the crown of his head, stroking over until your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh, there is just nothing inside of you but that big ol’ heart, huh?” It’s true. He’s empty but his heart. A heart that turns on its hind legs, rolling over onto its back for mommy and mommy only.

Leon hums, suckling on your nipple like he’s going to get milk out of it. “Can I—“ Leon lifts his head, ducks back down to avoid your scathing gaze.

“Can you what, baby?” You thumb his bottom lip, nail grazing his teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” He says, because he would like to fuck you.

“That’s not how you talk to mommy,” You go to push him off, but Leon shakes his head, and he is stronger— He is, he pins you down, presses his face into your neck. An apology that you accept.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” He’s trembling, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk like that— I’m sorry, please, can we-“

“Fine,” You cut in, and he knows that mommy is a slut. More so than him. That you want it just as bad, you just like playing games.

Leon’s lips part when the tip of his fat cock sinks into your heat. He wishes that your hole would gape like the maw of a beast and swallow him up David Cronenberg style. Wouldn’t that be so fun?

There’s a falter in your breath when he bottoms out with a squelch. You try to be this way, so unaffected, but Leon knows that you’re a glutton for cock. Not his alone, which crushes him, any old dick would do for his mom. It’s how she got by way back when.

“I love you,” Leon moans into your mouth when let him kiss you for the first time tonight, he savours it, lets the taste linger, “I love you, mommy.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pull him closer so his cock is deeper, hitting your cervix with the fat head. The most he can do in your grip is move his hips back and forth shallowly, never allowing more than an inch out of your sweet cunt. It’s suffocating and yet he loves it. Your love is a cage. Contains him. Leon licks the droplet of salty sweat that trickles down between your tits, he spurs his hips forward, fucks you with all that he’s got— This is all he’s good for, just good to give you your fill of dick. That’s why you had a son.

“You can do it better than that, Leon,” You’re panting, eyes glassy as you smile your gorgeous smile at him, “I know you can.”

With a grunt, he fucks you with fervour, balls slapping against your ass, all the nasty shit you love. His dick jumps inside of you, and you gasp, biting down on your tongue as he slams into you once, twice, thrice— Oh, it's so over. Leon can’t help it. Mommy’s pussy is so warm, so hot and wet and tight. Your disappointment is tangible. No need to hide it.

We can work on that, his shrink usually says to mask her annoyance at his premature ejaculation.

Mommy just shakes her head while frowning.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Leon’s body jolts, hips still moving despite the oversensitivity, his cum makes your cunt sloppier. He fucks it back into you like the filthy boy— man he is, so set on making you come undone that it comes across as a little freakish. Like he’s in a trance or some shit. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, mommy— Didn’t mean to— Fuck, I’m sorry, sorry—“

“Leon, stop that,” You place a hand on his chest. He stops. Leon is good at that. Taking instruction no matter how life-threatening, no matter how embarrassing, he’ll do it to be worth something.

“I’m so sorry,” He croaks, truly humiliated by his dick’s lack of selflessness. Shit just cums without Leon telling it to do so.

Mommy pats his head, “It’s okay, baby, you’re only a stupid little boy, aren’t you?”

Leon nods. Mhm. Mhm. Yup. Yup. That he is. Mommy’s stupidly depraved little boy. Just makes sense.

God, yes. “Yes, mommy,” Leon finds himself face to face with your cunt. One that popped him out. A well-beaten yet pretty pussy, because all of you, to Leon, is beautiful no matter how worn out. He parts your cushioned lips, teeth tugging at your labia as he dribbles his spit over your fat pussy. His cum sticks to your inner-thighs, a shiny trail that dries up before he can lick it up and spit it back onto your puffy cunt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at his hair till he’s sure the roots have weakened and now he’s even more prone to male pattern baldness than he was before. Leon focuses his attention on your clit, it’s small and fleshy on the tip of his tongue, the more he sucks the more you drip drop and fill his mouth with your slick. Crazy that is. The clit. It’s just a gift that keeps on giving. And it's good both ways. Leon gets to quell that urge, the sucking on a tit urge, and mommy cums so hard her thighs snaps shut around his head. Your back bows off the bed, and god dammit is he proud.

With the lower half of his face covered in your wetness, Leon re-emerges to kiss you. “That’s enough, darling,” You tell him after the fifth and final kiss. He holds onto it. He just wants you, his mommy. Is it so bad to want?

“I love you, mommy,” Leon says for what might be the third or hundredth time of the night.

“I know, darling,” Your nose bumps his, “I did miss you, Leon, if I’m being honest.”

“Really, mommy?” His heart skips a beat or two. God, it might’ve fucking stopped. Then he’d just be a doll of some sort. The rarest collectors doll that mommy could put in a glass case and show off and dust off— Well, to think she’d care enough to dust him off, Leon has a bit of an overactive imagination.

“Really, darling.” Mommy nods, and he’ll take it. He’ll take it and treasure it.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil angst

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ratboyy-withtheexistentialdread · 2 months

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Nevermore Chapter 97

Spoilers ahead, lads. Skedaddle if you don't fast pass. EDIT I guess I’ve said too much in this post and need to pull it back a little. So imma gonna edit it so it doesn’t say too much about this chapter.

Alright, first my reaction cause HOLY HELL those last few panels really got me like

I really had to put my phone down and talk myself through them. Now, lets talk about what I gained from this chapter and the infamous Annabel Lee. I've noticed, at least in the comment section, the fandom really doesn't care for Annabel's character and its difficult to know where the animosity has come from. Tumblr obviously loves her but us heathens support women's rights and wrongs (Don't we gents?) Many call her a sociopath or what’s happens in the last few panels. Annabel is indeed ruthless, calculating and stone cold but she obviously cares. She cares for Lenore above everything. It can be easy to see this as obsession as we really haven't seen her care about much else or even herself. But one comment on the Webtoon brought up a very valid point which I've also picked up on.

Annabel and Lenore in life were very isolated and broken people when they met one another. Annabel, broken and then rebuilt into a prim and proper lady. Lenore, broken physically and mentally and closed off from the world.

Meeting each other saved them. They were no longer alone. There was an understanding between them at least that we know of.

Their differences though is what divides them in death.

Annabel played games, and masked her true self around her father and family connections. She now makes games of situations to retain what little control she had in life over a society she knew she could never break the rules of. A Game that was always rigged against her.

Lenore rebelled against society. She fled the estate to escape a suitor, was bound to the attic and ostracized by her family, she then faked her death and posed as man to court Annabel, the one person who cared for her.

Lenore wants to break the rules of the deans Death Game. Annabel wants to follow them.

It’s all they’ve ever known.

Before it was only them that mattered. Now Lenore has so much more to fight for and Annabel still only has Lenore. Both are right in their own way of playing the game but it pains the other to witness.

Annabel, I’m sure is aware that the Deans are not all they seem to be and won’t simply allow the students to turn the tables on them if they played how Lenore wants to.

And playing Annabel’s way means the callous death of many many people that do deserve another chance at life.

Now. I do have to agree with Annabel in the sense that Lenore forgets

This is a Death Game

Right now the “villainous” characters show their true face with pride and the “hero’s” are charming and true but as we get down to the wire, it’s going to get grey. There are no good or bad at the end of these games, only survival.

Could Annabel show some restraint and more tact when speaking strategy and making plans with Lenore? Absolutely. She’s little too giddy about sweeping some pieces off the board.

Lenore also needs to stop being so naive. She saw first hand what exactly the Deans are capable of in Dreamland, it put the fear of god in her.

In fairness to both characters though they and we are still missing big pieces of what happened between them and what their causes of death were. Which could hold big aspects of their characterization.

Maybe Lenore was originally very callous about others. In life, aside from Theo and Annabel, we’ve never really seen her interact with others. Perhaps this is the Lenore Annabel speaks of.

Anyway, I’m rambling. In conclusion, I’m a bit disappointed in Nevermores comment section. I enjoy Annabel’s character although some parts do worry me a bit but I have hope Red and Flynn have plans to curve this to a satisfying reason and conclusion.

That cliffhanger, boy howdy, what the fuck is Lenore gonna do…

#nevermore webtoon #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee whitlock #white raven #duke #Pluto #nevermore webcomic #nevermore WEBTOON spoilers

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kyra45 · 8 months

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Keys guide to scam spotting (v2)

Hi! I’m Key (Or Jess depending on which blog you know me from) and I’ll be telling you some better information and detail on how to spot a scam account be it a pet scam or a donation scam. All information is based on my own experiences and I’ll try to keep this post accessible so the only big text is the title. This information should help in understanding how these scams work and how to spot them without having to do too much work. As always, if you appreciate what I do and want to show it, sharing these info posts helps other users see it and learn about blogs that might send them asks.

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What is a donation scam? - A donation scam is when someone is being deceptive to get money by claiming they need mutual aid or support. For example, they are using the story from someone else’s fundraising post in order to get donations and won’t tell anyone their lying. This is called a donation scam. While the story may be legitimate, it is a story stolen off someone else and means the real person isn’t getting the support they asked for because someone else is using it. These stories are often stolen off Facebook/GoFundMe or even Instagram and could come from a private account or group so searching wouldn’t come up with a source. The images may also be stolen from somewhere else too.

How do you spot a donation scam? - Donation scams are usually easily spotted if you take a closer look at the information being given. Stolen stories will often have certain parts removed and replaced with the information the scammer added themselves. Sometimes the post may be composed of two different parts and won’t sound right if you pay close attention. For example, part of the story sounds fine but then the second part of the story seems out of place and doesn’t match up with the beginning. Another thing to check is how old the account is and if you have timestamps on you can see if an older post is backdated. You can also check to see if the account has tagged certain blogs in their post though this isn’t always a sign of a scam.

What is post backdating? - Post backdating is changing the dates of a reblogged post to look older then it really is. While this can be used with good intentions, scammers often use this to trick people into thinking their account is years old or even a few months old. The one way to find this is by turning on timestamps in dashboard settings and checking ‘other notes’ in reblogs. This is the only way to see the true date something was shared. Accounts who backdate posts will often claim someone told them to do it or they’ll say they didn’t know it was bad. However, you can not accidentally backdate a post.

Did the account contact you first? - A common occurrence is that you will get scam asks if you share a popular or trending post. Usually these accounts send asks to anyone they find without care of who it is and might lie as well if you ask them how they found you. In general, a brand new account shouldn’t easily find you unless they were watching the notes of popular posts. Occasionally these new accounts will even send asks to certain accounts they shouldn’t know about unless they have seen the account before. If your DMs are closed, the ask may ask you to message them because it’s urgent but all they will do is ask for money or ask you to loan them some money.

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What is a pet donation scam? - A pet donation scam is where someone has went and looked around for vet fundraisers online and then took it for themselves by saving the images and story while erasing any links that would lead to the real pet getting support. They will then repost it to tumblr and say it’s actually their pet needing urgent care with the post title being very large and in red text for a sense of urgency. Sometimes they’ll say they can’t use GoFundMe because it has a fee or something else. This is a scam because they are not the owner of the pet and have stolen everything meaning no funds sent will be towards the actual pets care.

How do you spot a pet donation scam? - A common way of a pet donation scam is by how old the pinned post is and how many posts are reblogged on the account. Usually there is only a few posts shared and always shared around the same time and then no more. These posts all come from a trending topic, a fandom, or are popular posts. Another thing is checking the bio in Google search and seeing if it’s been took from someone else as the scammer never makes their own bio. Reverse image search their pfp to see who it really belongs to in case they stole it. Another important thing is to check their link and see if it matches up with the vet bill. Since most pictures are stolen off a private group, reverse image search won’t find them. The name they may have is likely not their real name and is stolen.

Did the account send you an ask? - Regardless of what the ask says, it usually requests you to answer it privately or message them so they can tell you thanks. These asks may have several emojis in them as well but their always just copy/pasted and sent to multiple users all at once on a daily basis. The private answer is so the ask won’t show up if someone is looking it up. If their post is public, there shouldn’t be a reason to need a private response to an ask you have sent to many people unless you are trying to hide it. Messaging these accounts is useless because they’ll lie to you when you ask them questions back or just ignore you.

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What is a fake check scam? - A fake check scam is when a generally blank account with no pfp will message you after you used certain tags and ask you if you still need help. Even if you have links to send support, these accounts will ignore that in order to ask for your personal information such as phone number or banking details. They will then offer to send you a check. This is a fake check and cashing it won’t be scamming the scammer. You will lose money instead and the scammer will already move on to someone else. Never give them your private information.

Are there any other scam types? - When you tag posts, you’ll often get messages from accounts claiming they can help you get more attention on your campaign but you have to pay them money or go off-site to contact them. These are fake support accounts and they always use stock images while pretending to be officially affiliated and act like their Digital Marketing title means their not trying to scam you. They get defensive when called out and may start insulting you when they figure out you are already aware they aren’t legitimate.

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What is a funeral donation scam? - A funeral donation scam is when an account posts saying someone has passed away but the images they used are actually took from someone else and may be photoshopped. Bills may be edited to suit their story and names may be changed to someone else’s. This isn’t a real common scam! But it’s happened a lot lately but the basics are the account will steal someone’s pictures and pass them off as theirs and when caught will say they were forced to or know it’s wrong but did it anyway.

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In closing, this is information regarding common scam types you’ll find on tumblr. It’s always suggested to pay close attention to asks you get it they fit the criteria of being sent from a scammer. Answer the asks publicly and call out the blog. The scammer may block you as a result, but it’ll help your ask be seen it someone has looked it up. I suggest never spamming asks to share your pinned aid post because unfortunately scammers do this and you shouldn’t ignore people saying to please stop spamming. Always check to see if someone is comfortable getting these kinds of asks too because it won’t look too good if you have sent them an ask when they say please don’t.

As always, not everyone asking for support is a scammer! Legitimate people are out there. It’s just unfortunate scammers have made it harder for them to get help. You can always do your own research and compare it to what others have given and come to your own conclusion.

#scam #donation scam #pet donation scam #how to spot a scam blog #psa #important information #long post #longpost #pet scam

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decolonize-the-left · 6 months

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You are literally going to get people killed by pushing them to vote third party. People voting third party is why Trump won in 2016, which allowed him to stack the Supreme Court with conservative garbage which is going to negatively affect us for DECADES to come (already has, since it led to the repeal of Roe v. Wade which has LITERALLY killed people). I'm baffled, because you've done so much good work on this website (like I still go back and regularly reread your posts on whiteness etc because they're so informative), but advocating for voting third party going into one of the most important elections in recent memory is actively harmful.

Like have you heard of Project 2025? In case you haven't it's literally like a 1000 page manifesto for the Republican party to reshape the federal government to essentially let the President become a dictator. It also expressly mentions plans to roll back rights for women, the LGBT community, and pretty much any other minority you can think of. I know things are bad now - not arguing that at all - but if Republicans win next year, things will get EXPONENTIALLY WORSE.

You can sit there and yell about Democrats being "just as bad" until you're blue in the face, but it's literally not true. The Democratic Party itself is obviously just another problematic institution and there are definitely Dems who showed their entire asses with supporting Israel, but like... Progressive Democrats do exist and while they're obviously not perfect, it's absolutely a step in the right direction. Not to mention Republicans literally need to cheat by gerrymandering and attacking voting rights for minorities in order to even get elected in a lot of places, whereas Democrats tend to win when more people are registered and actually show up to vote. They are not the same, and the harm they do is not the same.

Again, I have a lot of respect for the work you do, especially with your recent posts on the Palestinian genocide. But I vehemently disagree with your stance on voting third party in this upcoming election. Ideally I would love if we could vote third party and actually have multiple options that more accurately represent us as a population, but our current system is a two party one and unfortunately we literally do have to vote for the lesser of two evils, because one option sucks but preserves what little democracy we have (and gives us a chance of making it better) and one will literally bring genocide against trans people. I would personally rather not see that happen.

How can you say this and mention the Palestinian genocide in the same ask.

Democrats are getting people killed. In fact they're committing one of The worst crime against humanity possible and then only thing you're worried about is that things might get worse for gay people if a Republicans wins.

I'm the biggest queer I know. I'm native. I'm brown. I'm almost definitely on a watch list. And listen to me and understand the depth of my words when I say: my people have been oppressed the way Project2025 outlines.

And maybe you personally cared or helped us protest that. But most people didn't. In fact I can't remember the last time the US supported native rights at all.

But now that YOURE under threat I'm supposed to risk my life because the queer community can't be bothered to stop discoursing about neopronouns long enough to actual give an shit about saving the community?

Y'all got a lot of damn nerve, let me tell you.

Go bark up some other tree cuz this is not the one.

Also I'm not pushing anyone to vote 3rd party. I'm laying out facts. Facts are a Gallup poll says 63% of people would vote 3rd party. Facts are my Tumblr poll says that number is STILL at least 45% on the hellsite.

And since people are interested in voting 3rd party they should know their options. The people who say "I would vote 3rd party but they don't have support" also deserve to see the articles that said 63% of people would join them.

They deserve to know that 3rd parties currently hold a not insignificant amount percentage of support from the two main parties. 20% of votes. When 33% is an even split are good odds. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sorry, blue Fascists, but this country is in fact still a democracy and just because you Want people to vote blue doesn't mean they have to and you feeling they're the best doesn't make you right!

Other people aren't "wrong" for not wanting your conservative Jurassic party in power anymore.

They can vote how they want.

And if you see a poll that says 63% of people would rather NOT vote for either major party and your first thought is not: wow 63% is enough to elect someone we want, I'll support that.

And instead you go: how can I force them to vote for my party instead.

Then please understand it is not THEM splitting the vote. Biden will get MAYBE 40% votes. You gonna force 63% of the country to vote for someone they don't even want?

There's a name for that yeah?

How'd it work out in 2016 when y'all "forced" us to vote for Hillary by putting her on the ballot? She lost and she wasn't even actively commiting a genocide.

But you think Biden will not only earn votes from that 63% but he'll also win the election. Against trump. Which less blatantly shitty democrats have struggled to contend with?

Democrats are legitimately delusional.

Your problem is you see Democrats as being better than Republicans. While the rest of us see less and less of a difference every year. And you can only say you're "better" if you're different enough.

See this is what happens when you vote for the "lesser evil." Eventually that evil balances back out and you're left with the truth that your two main options are just evil.

Now the only people actually different enough to make that argument are third parties.

Coincidentally, that's what people are drawn to right now.

I know, go figure. It's almost like it makes sense to lose support when you consistently prop up shitty candidates nobody asked for every 4 years.

We do not have a two party system and you know that, that's why you sent this ask.

Cuz you're stressed dems might lose. Cuz you KNOW people have other options.

Good. Cuz they will lose if Biden is the democrat's nominee and Claudia de la Cruz stays in the race, which she will since she's running with PSL not democrats. So there's no competition. Her party is organized and chosen her and a VP already, she's guaranteed every one of their votes because her party works like a union does.

It's a wrap.

Biden can't use his "lesser evil" script with Claudia De La Cruz on the ballot actively challenging his genocide and imperialism.

Vote Claudia De La Cruz cuz you are a scooping water out of the Titanic trying to get 63% of Americans to think voting for a Genocidal warmonger is what's best for any of us, let alone the planet. And we didn't want him BEFORE he did any of this.

#asked #answered #voting

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arcielee · 1 year

Text

The Past and the Pending

Summary: Aemond will find you and bring you the fuck back to Westeros. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 3790 Warnings: Smutty smut, possessive Aemond (you know you love it, I do too, no judgement) dubcon, oral (female receiving), fingering, p in v, all the goodies. Author's Note: We are coming to the end of this depravity and there is one last part after this. I cannot express enough thanks to @f4ll-for-you for all of her help! I literally posted, “Hey, this is my first ever Reader Insert attempt, does anyone wanna read it?” And she was the only one willing and the friendship that has blossomed has absolutely changed me for the better as a writer. Thank you from the bottom of my heart ♥ lēkia - brother Tags (kindred spirits): @glitterandgoldfinds @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @fan-goddess @welcometothelioncage @hueanhdang @sahvlren @heavenly1927 @missusnora @lemonivall (I have never had a taglist before, but if you are bold it is because Tumblr has betrayed me and it will not allow me to tag you, I’m so sorry) Series: Call It Dreaming

Prince Aemond Targaryen was a quiet force that would sweep through the Red Keep, his dark presence engulfing every room he entered into. His temperament would be described as obsessional, almost consuming, whenever his meticulous mind was set on something or someone. His traits and his drive would have been admirable in a firstborn son, but instead he learned early on his fate was predetermined, understanding that his title would forever be superseded by the fact he was only a second son.

On the night he returned from Storm’s End, he came to realize that his power dynamic had shifted. Aemond was ushered away into the small council chamber, not even able to change from his clothes that hung heavy from the rain. He saw the change in the expressions around the table, the disappointment in both his grandsire and mother’s expressions, but Aegon did not share their concerns and found optimism within his err, boldly stating how his brother had, “the true blood of the dragon.”

Aemond was grateful his brother stood at his side with the new alias Kinslayer tacking onto his legacy and, in return, he devoted himself to serve his king, no matter the personal opinion on his drunken addled reign.

He was a formidable ally to Aegon, quick to push his grandsire and his self-serving counsel aside, while suggesting for Daeron to return to the Red Keep at once, which would allow Tessarion to be added on the battlefront.

Aemond then turned his focus to the retaliation he knew would come from his sister, pouring over tomes and books to scrutinize battles past and best predict the impending. It did not prepare for the attempt made, but the gods showed favor as Daeron happened to be visiting with his mother when two brutes slipped into her quarters by one of the many ingresses that lined the castle walls. The prince’s yells were quick to bring the attention of Ser Criston Cole and together they were able to subdue the would-be assassins.

The two men with the monikers Blood and Cheese were beaten until they were unrecognizable, until the needed confession spilled from their broken teeth and bloody lips: that they had been sent by Daemon.

An eye for an eye, a son for a son.

The outrage for the attempt on the little Targaryen princes allowed the uproar needed amongst the seven realms to capture and bring Rhaenyra and their uncle to trial. They were convicted and their execution was a show for the smallfolk, thus ceasing any more murmurs of who Viserys had wished to be his heir.

This led to present day, with the seven realms now under the unquestionable rule of his brother, King Aegon II, who proved to be an insipid drunk with access to the royal funds, which was used to throw extravagant revelries that allowed him to wag his cock at every woman within Westeros.

Yes, he was the king and he was kin, but Aegon was still insufferable.

His brother’s incessant celebrations left Aemond numb to their victory, with an emptiness that replaced the consuming vengeance he had felt since that fateful night on Driftmark. He always assumed when it had been rightfully served, that a sense of peace would take over but instead he found a gnawing want for something more.

“You need a woman, lēkia,” Aegon had told him with a giggle.

In that regard, Aemond had an insatiable appetite but only once it had been awakened. The last woman he took to bed was when they first claimed Harrenhal and slaughtered every Strong within, save for a bastard who served as a wetnurse.

Their chemistry was explosive, burning bold and passionate until the inevitable end of the wick. Alys spoke often of her purpose, stating the gods have given her a new destiny to fulfill, whereas Aemond was respectful of the old gods and the new, but found he often preferred the process of coming to a conclusion with thorough research, as opposed to an unseen deity’s say-so.

When he told her this, she clucked her tongue and touched his cheek. “My prince, I know your destiny and you just need to find her.”

Instead, Aemond returned to the Red Keep and fell into the mundane routine of small council meetings, training with Ser Criston, and riding Vhagar. The only time he felt a sense of purpose was backside the massive she-dragon, allowing her freedom to soar over the seven realms and trusting the gentle pull of the reins and a word utterance would return them to King’s Landing.

To return to nothing.

He had always preferred seclusion, but it wore on him as of late. His sister was busy with the twins and her new babe, a young princeling named Maelor, while his mother was devoted to breathing down Aegon’s neck and upholding his royal reputation. Daeron found his purpose within the Citadel and was forging his chains and Ser Criston allowed time to train with him, but he was dedicated to the shadows cast by his mother and brother.

So when his day’s tasks were done, he would retreat to his room and allow himself to remove his eyepatch and the façade it held, choose a book from his growing collection and seat himself in front of the fire to read.

This was how you found him.

His agitation was apparent by the rush of color to his cheeks; he could not fathom how you managed to enter without him realizing. He watched as you made a soft noise of surprise, your backside was to him and he knew, from what you wore, that Aegon had picked some whore from the Streets of Silk and slipped her in.

His tone was sharp when he questioned what you were doing and he saw you jump. Aemond was in a sour mood and he knew he was projecting, but his temper flared and he glided across the room to take hold of you by the throat, though he was careful with his hold.

What he had not expected was the beauty that seemed to glow from you, your look so exquisite and unlike anything he had seen before within Westeros. The embarrassment of you seeing him so intimately tightened his expression and you returned his look with an unabashed regard that held no tremor of fear, but your eyes seemed to brim with a sort of adoration.

His gaze rolled over your shapely legs that peered below the hem of your queer clothing and the gnaw of lust began to form in the pit of his stomach. He watched with rapt attention when you removed that flimsy piece of clothing to show the small clothes that fit with your figure with the most delicious flattery to your curves.

His passion had been awakened; he had to taste you, he had to touch you.

His fingers trailed your skin, soft like silk to his touch, and your scent warm and subtle. Your body fit so well against him and the noises that spilled from your kiss swollen lips was a sound he always wished to hear. The moment he finally sheathed himself inside your wet warmth, you mewled so pitifully and he shuddered from how your cunt molded so perfectly around his cock. Aemond struggled to pace himself, but your tightness clutched so sinfully and he swore the world anew when he spilled inside you.

Aemond pulled you beneath the covers, unwilling to have you return from wherever his brother dragged you from. He loved curling against your soft backside and how you felt pressed against his chest; there was pleasure from watching you sleep, with the subtle rise and fall of your bare chest with your every breath, while cradling his arm between your breasts.

He regretted falling asleep, for when he awoke you were gone and all that remained was the queer clothing you had arrived in, your fragrance still lingering on the thin fabric.

Aemond went to find his brother and confront him about you, only to learn that Aegon had been bedridden since late the day prior with stomach pains. “You swear you have not left this bedchamber, lēkia,” he questioned.

“Speak softer,” Aegon moaned, dark circles that amplified the purple of his eyes. “I swear to you I did not leave my room for anything last night, save the bucket.”

But if she was not his, where did she come from?

He called for Ser Erryk and together they searched every brothel within the city, questioning every madam and giving the description of your beauty. There was no lead and they tried to entice him with what they had available, but Aemond did not want the touch of anyone but you and you alone.

You had become his new sense of purpose, consuming his every thought.

It was weeks before he saw you again; there was the familiar soft gasp falling from your lips and you were back, flesh and blood, in his bedchambers. His temper flared and you were coy with your reply. There was the question that had tormented him for weeks, “Where are you from?”

“I cannot say.”

He wished for an answer, but his body betrayed him and the ache he felt only began to subside once he grabbed onto you, feeling your soft flesh and enveloped in your warm aroma. He pulled you close, appreciative of the black, simple dress that complimented the curves of your body; your nipples peaked beneath the fabric and your body arched, the soft flesh of your ass pressing into his crotch.

You were intoxicating and he was mournful with his words, “I imagine you will leave me again.”

“I will need to,” you replied, your eyes doleful. “But I will stay as long as I am able to.”

As long as I am able to.

Your words remained with him, a soft echo in his mind as he returned to the monotonous tasks of his every day. They rolled away and one night, in the quiet of his bedchamber, he laid back and stared at his canopy above his bed. His gaze held nothing, but beneath his pillow he held a grip of his dagger, the fabric of your shirt touching his knuckles.

He ached for your touch, the clothing left behind had lost your smell, and he mourned that he did not hold onto you, refusing to allow you to return from wherever you had come from.

Aemond did not remember falling asleep, but he felt the shift at the edge of his bed and the realization he was not alone in his room. He had an automated response, only to fully awaken once he saw the hold he had around your neck and your wide eyes.

The passion remained the same and how perfect your body was against his own. A sense of ataraxia washed over him with you wrapped in his arms, a comforting calm until he felt your body tense every so slight. “What is it?” He was quick to ask, wanting to resolve whatever vexed you in this intimate moment.

You turned to face him, your eyes glassy and the tip of your nose red with your words, “I only wish I was able to stay longer with you.”

Morning came and his bed was empty again, but he now understood what must be done. He returned to Harrehal and sought out Alys. When he entered the throne room, he looked up at her and she wore a wicked smile on her painted lips, but her focus was on the mortar in her hand. “What do you seek, my prince?” She asked with the lilt of her Riverland accent.

“Who,” he replied, his gaze watchful as her hands continued the motion in front of her. There was a collection of mason jars, marble bowls brimming with herbs from all over Westeros, and the wispy smoke of sage hung heavy in the air.

Alys lifted her kohl smeared eyes, a twinkle to the blue that bore into him. “You finally found her,” her tone was playful, almost teasing. “You know that I need something of hers to locate.”

He handed over your vintage shirt.

“The White Duke,” she grinned. “Is this dear to her?”

“I hope so,” he answered.

She tsked and took just a shred of the fabric, dropping it onto the marble slate in front of her before sprinkling a powder on top. A flame sparked and it reflected in her eyes. “Fate is peculiar,” she began, her tone still teasing. “She is not of this world, my prince.”

Aemond remembered your reply, I cannot say, and he asks, “Am I able to get to her? Would I be able to bring her back here?” He swallowed. “She has visited me before.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Alys continues. “I can create an access that will allow you to retrieve your destiny, as well as a potion that you must give her so she can return with you, with whatever she carries.” Her eyes focused on him, her lips drawn into a thin line. “We cannot traipse back and forth this plane of existence, my prince. I can give you two days, but after that the portal will be closed so on one else can cross.”

She paused for a moment. “This, of course, will cost you, my prince.”

But no cost could compare to the opportunity to see you again. Aemond returned that evening and noticed a chalk symbol on the cobblestone. Alys handed him a small vial with a soft purple glow emanating from the glass. “This is what she must take to be able to cross over and stay within Wetseros,” she instructed. “Where you arrive will be the same way you must return.”

He nodded, his jaw clenched.

“I will close this portal in two days, whether you return or not,” she repeated and she gave him a kiss. “Good luck, my prince.”

Aemond Targaryen found himself in your room.

Where he stood was a soft, iridescent glow beneath where he stood and it faded away. A purple lucent light remained, casting from your bedside and allowing enough light for him to look around. It was apparent the space was intimately yours, an almost chaotic cleanliness and your fragrance touched everything. He noticed a velvet chair with clothes folded on top and to his right, by the door, were your shoes neatly lined up. Aemond bent over and removed his boots, placing them alongside.

He saw a shelf that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, littered with literature and small trinkets; on the wall were pieces of artwork that hung. His gaze then fell towards the bed where you were sleeping; you were wearing a thin, white tank top and the blanket was halfway down your hips, your lips slightly open with the soft breaths of your slumber.

There was the curl of his lips as Aemond took slow steps around your bedside, his eye taking in your relaxed form in the sheer top, and he reached to gently pull the quilt back further to show the black cotton underwear that hung on your hips. His hand reached out to you, his fingertips pressing into your soft skin and his touch elicited a sleepy moan from your lips, your nipples pebbling in response.

He felt the tightness in his trousers and he pulled back to remove his tunic before moving to climb into your bed, pressing closer, his nose trailing from your collarbone to the curve of your neck, his mouth opened slightly as he took in your smell.

You shift beneath him with a sigh, goosebumps spreading over the skin that shows, and he was quick to place his palm to cover your mouth; your eyes widen and it takes a moment to recognize it was Aemond Targaryen, bare chested and pressing up against you. He relaxes his grip and your hands move to touch his face, your fingers soft on his jawline, “Aemond-?” Your voice is a harsh whisper and he moves forward to take your mouth with his own.

You moan into the kiss as his tongue massages against your own, shifting himself to move on top of you and brace his elbows on each side of you, caging you in. You move to open your legs and cradle him against your hips, your hands tangling in his silver hair.

His lips move downwards, tracing your jawline to your neck and kissing your chest. He shifts his weight to one side, reaching to grab your neckline with one hand and pulling to allow your breast to spill. His hot mouth suckles and bites into your soft flesh and you moan louder, grinding your hips upwards for friction.

You see the curl of his lips as he reaches for your stretched neckline and tears it down the center. “Hey,” you push to your elbows, your voice low. “I would have taken it off if you just asked.”

“I do not ask for what is mine,” he replies and pushes you back into a bed with a kiss that removes the air from your lungs and all thoughts from your mind until all you can think is the sensation of his lips trailing lower, his kisses sprinkled over your chest, your breasts, your ribs and lower.

You lift your hips and peel off your underwear that is soaked with your anticipation; Aemond moves to your center with a greedy lick of your silky folds, the sensation sending shivers throughout and your clit blossoms in response. “Vok,” Perfect, he praises into your cunt and you shiver again with his Valyrian.

You feel his slender finger curl into you, a tentative touch to your velvety walls until you clench in response. He hums his satisfaction before adding a second finger for a come hither motion to massage that spot within you; you mewl pitifully and bring your hand to your mouth to smother your noise.

He pulls back to look at you and you are quick to whisper, “I have roommates,” he probably does not know what the fuck that is, “I live with others here, they have their own rooms… I-I don’t want them to hear me.”

“I do not fucking care,” he growls and he dips lower until his mouth is on your cunt. You gasp at the simultaneous ministrations of his mouth and his fingers within you; your thighs begin to shake and you nearly cry when he quickens his motion, the pleasure crashing over you and your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

There is a wet squelch when he pulls his hand back and you weakly look, face flushed, as he brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, his grin wicked. “As sweet as last night,” he says and he moves to unlace his trousers before returning to nestle in the cradle of your hips.

Your eyes are glazed and you sigh with the pressure of his chest to your own, his hard and warm and still somehow molds so perfectly against you; he moves his hips and you feel his cock pressing against your slick slit, tantalizing your swollen lips. “Aemond, please,” you beg, your nails biting into his toned shoulders.

He reaches his hand to line himself with your entrance, the gentle thrusts of his hips to fill you and you moan at the stretch of your walls as his cock sheaths into you. He begins to rock against you, hitting deeper within, and the soft pants of pleasure spill from your lips with his every thrust.

Aemond leans forward, his mouth finding yours with a gentle kiss that does not match to the powerful pace of his hips. “Wait,” you breathe and he pauses, his expression curious as you push him back and he follows you lead to lay back onto your bed.

You take care to prop your pillows behind his back and his gaze watches as you climb on top, your touch gentle to guide his tip between your wet folds. He reaches to grip into the softness of your hips, lifting to ease the entirety of his length into you; your head tilts back with a cockdrunk grin to your lips and you slowly begin to rock against his hips, while Aemond presses to meet your motion.

You look down at the prince and his gaze is intense in return, one sapphire eye and one lavender eye that bore through you. The lighting of the room gives him an ethereal beauty and your eyes admire how the shadows spread across the rivets of his chest and abdomen when he flexes to meet you with the motion of his hips. His silken hair spills on both sides, a contrast to your dark sheets, like a silver halo for this deity clenched between your thighs.

“Aemond,” your voice is so low, but he is rapt to your attention. “Jenigon nykēla.”

Touch me.

He releases one hand and reaches between your thighs, his thumb gentle with his touch until the slick on your cunt coats his tip. He finds your pearl and moves in circles to match the rhythm of his hips, his touch igniting the passion that coils in the pit of your stomach. Your nails bite into his chest, leaving creases of red crescent moons on his pale skin; you bite your bottom lip, quickening the movement of your hips.

Aemond returns your passion, rutting upwards until your breath hitches and your velvety walls begin to clench around him, coaxing his own release with a guttural groan from the back of his throat; his arm pushes himself upright and the other moves to slip around your waist, burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, soaking in your scent.

He falls back and pulls you with him, his arms wrapping around you and you nestle against his chest; your smile is unable to leave your face as you press a kiss to his chest, moving to press your lips to his neck. He hums, his cheeks dimpling with a closed lip smile, and you whisper, “Aemond, how did you find me?” Your voice is soft. “This has to be a dream.”

He hums again, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I will tell you everything in the morning,” he promises, nestling with you beneath the quilts on your bed.

Your fingers trace the hard planes of his abdomen, the softest touch to test if he was really there. But in the morning you will be gone, you don’t say and, instead, his steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

#the past and the pending #Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #hotd fanfic #aemond smut #thanks for reading #and thanks for all the love #♥

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