dahlia @dilly-dahlia - Tumblr Blog

Jul 19

Sex-Ed

pairing: Rhys x Fem!reader

summary: A tit for a tat, you want to know why everyone is so weird about sex...and in turn you get to teach this scholar how to actually savor it.

tags: reader is in the same(ish) situation as Ava, reader is down in the dumps, Rhys is there for comfort, AND for comfort, Well, yes but no, reader is Socrates (real), She also has commitment issues (shocker), reader puts it upon herself to figure out why they're such prudes, Daemos society is stuck in the middle ages so what do you expect?, Which means Rhys is also uncomfortable with sex as a concept, reader ALSO puts it upon herself to change Rhys view of sex, cue sex lmao, reader is still a freak hoe, Love Island mentioned way too much (my bad), lowkey friends to lovers (evolving oooo), waiter! There's plot in my porn!!!!

CW!!: explicit content 18+ !!! MDNI !!! Sex talk and discussions of archaic/passé ways of viewing it, Dirty talking, mutual masturbation, Outercourse/humping, Mutual token resistance, reverse psychology, seduction roleplay, "Plausible Deniability", P in V intercourse, very mild sexual dynamics, female leading/dominating (but overall pretty egalitarian)

length: 11.7 k words

Week 2 of your soon-to-be impromptu sabbatical from the outside world.

…

You're rather surprised that in this period of time, you haven't gotten more than a whine from your job.

Not a notice of termination or even a stern email.

Then again, you weren't exactly "unloved" there. Honestly, if you didn't know you were capable, strong, and really fucking good at your job, you'd definitely assume you were a personality hire.

That, coupled with the fact that your role wasn't something they could easily replace, kind of explained why you were so secure in taking this "unannounced leave of absence" without any real pushback…

Though the concern would be appreciated.

You mean, c'mon! Not even a text asking if you were okay?! Real fucking sweet.

Sure, you gave some weird excuse when you got here, but…ugh.

To be fair, however, things hadn't been so bad here…

If anything, they were slowly improving!

If you didn't count the bore that was day-to-day life.

…

Not to sound ungrateful, but what else were you supposed to say? It's the same monotony of waking and getting grilled and having to…

Ugh.

You've complained about this before.

You're sure you have.

Whatever.

Not to even mention, the little joys you did derive from certain interactions had runneth dry as of late.

Noi was still doing his whole "avoiding you like the plague" thing…despite you having insider knowledge that he can't keep you out of his mind.

And Pierce? Well, he got it all out of his system that night.

Thank fuck.

You weren't exactly rearing at the idea that he could've potentially gotten hooked and started asking for it like a junkie on the side of the road.

Don't…get it twisted…you absolutely loved how eager he was and how utterly drunk he was on you.

…But you weren't exactly looking for that every single hour of the day? You were human after all; you have your limits.

As much as sometimes you didn't want to.

But that's just because you're pretty overzealous at times.

Because when you're in it, you're IN IT.

But right now you weren't.

Haven’t been, are not.

Nah, you were more in an ennui kinda mood.

…You learned that word while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

Who said TikTok wasn't educational?

…Okay, you lied again.

It was, in fact, while you were finally watching Inside Out 2 on YOUR Disney+ account that everyone besides you is abusing!!

You can't have a SINGLE thing, can you?!

Besides the point, irrelevant—

Anyway! You were currently indulging in the only real form of entertainment available to you that wasn't your phone.

And it wasn't Disney+…

The sound of yelling, trashy Y2K music, and over-dramatic sound effects fills the screen in front of you as you just mindlessly…watch?

At least that's what you think you're doing.

You swear, you hate watching Reality TV…

You could tune out for 5 seconds, and the moment you pop back in there's two people in a fight, one passed out, and something on fire.

…Okay, well, maybe not something on fire…

At least physically.

"I should've just watched Love Island…" You groan to yourself.

…as if you couldn't just grab the controller and…change it?

Were you going to do it, though?

No? Are you stupid?

You frankly loved suffering.

"You have an Island for Love?" A voice pops in from behind you, almost startling you off the couch.

"Oh my fucking god!" You cry, trying your best to crunch up to see who it was…

But considering your position and your utter laziness at the moment, you flop around before quitting instead.

"Are you alright? Why are you lying like that?" The voice is rather calm, but not at all stoic.

Too high to be the aforementioned gentle giant.

"Yeah—I'm fine, Rhys." You sigh gently, looking at him from your bat-like position. Thankfully, he's moved to the front of you…and right in front of your TV.

"Ugh…Don't be a dick—move." You grumble in your own frustration.

"A what…?"

Shit.

You probably didn't mean to say that out loud.

Well.

Not to him at least.

If it were anyone else (cough ASCH cough), you'd be fine with saying it.

But Rhys is just Rhys…

He doesn't really deserve that kind of talk.

He's far more respectful than the others. Treats you like an actual person and not some… all-powerful sorceress.

You still didn't understand that…

"It's an insult," You explain anyway, "But ignore that—I didn't mean it."

"Have I done something to make you mad…?" He still asks.

Not if you count unintentional obstruction a crime.

"Nah, I'm just in a bad mood." You dismiss, before thinking on it further, "Well, I'm just bored."

"Is it because everyone has abandoned you?"

What.

You can't help the twitch that comes to your eye at the statement. You're sensitive about that, damn it!

…Well, could you be?

Everyone has been blowing up your phone, and you were making excuse after excuse…

But maybe it's just the fact that no one was concerned enough to come look for you.

Maybe you were just too good at lying.

Damn it.

How dare you be amazing at manipulation?

"…If you are worried, they just went off to the park again."

…the?

Oh.

He meant…

"…That's why it's been so quiet." You mutter to yourself, "Wait—then why didn't you go with?"

"I didn't really want to." He admits, "Plus, if I did, you'd be here all alone."

…huh…

"Well, an invitation would've been nice…" You scoff softly.

You would've declined it, but it's the thought that counts.

"Princess Ava didn't want to disturb you. She said that you might need some space." He explains.

…Oh God damn it.

"…Yeah." You sigh, covering your face with your hand, "Kinda right…"

Just a tiny break from everyone is what you needed.

Don't get it wrong, it wasn't horrible.

But going from living alone to having about six roommates plus a cat wasn't exactly the most exhilarating experience.

"She seemed to know what your response was going to be before she even stepped close to you." He states, "Is that because of a neurolink you share?"

If you could develop that from the excess electromagnetic waves produced from a microwave while you're popping microwave popcorn for your weekly movie nights, then maybe.

"No, We've just been friends for so long, we know when the other's not feeling well." You say in a grumble.

"Ah…and you're not?" He continues to pry.

…

"What could I tell you?"

"If you are feeling okay?"

"No—I…"

Right.

Sarcasm isn't a thing to them.

"…I guess I'm not." You relent, "It's nothing crazy, but I think I'm just running out of steam."

"For?"

"Interacting? With people?"

Man, you don't even really know. It was probably that…but it could be something worse.

Exactly what, though, wasn't up for you to figure out.

You're too lazy for that.

"Oh." He says softly, "So, should I stop talking or…"

"No—no." You sit correctly for real this time, finally meeting his gaze, "Actually…I probably shouldn't be allowed to just couch rot and watch reality TV all day…It's not…the healthiest."

You can see the look of relief on his face, subtle but there, "What is that? A reality TV?"

…

"Well, it…"

…

Damn, it was pretty hard to explain when you thought about it for more than a minute.

"It's a show…"

And what else?

Rhys nods with attentiveness, clearly asking for more details.

"…Where people watch other people, who have signed up to be…watched?"

"Be watched doing what?" He quirks his eyebrow.

"Well, it kind of depends," you sigh, "In this one, people just agree to come on and live on camera for however long."

"Hm…" He mutters.

"On Love Island, though, people are competing. Well, 'technically,' they're coming on to try to find love—that's the main goal. But there's a prize if you're voted as America's favorite couple."

"People vote?"

…

As embarrassing as it is to admit, yes…they do.

"For their favorite islander, or couple, or sometimes who gets to go home that week."

"Ah…"

…Is she explaining that correctly? He seems to understand it in any case.

"So what happens when they're 'dumped'? Do they get executed?" He asks with a deep ponder.

No?!

"No!" You say with haste, giving a quick, confused laugh before continuing, "They just leave the show…and come back to normal life?"

"Oh…" He nods before pushing further, "Without a 'love,' I presume?"

"Yeah, mostly." You shrug, "That's the name of the game, I guess, tough luck for them."

"That's kind of tragic though, isn't it?"

"What is?"

Rhys' lips purse as he starts, "Well, the fact that they only come to the show to find someone…and evidently leave with no one."

…

Well, when he puts it like that…

"Don't get too sad for them…they knew that it could turn out that way." You assure, "And to be honest…most of them aren't even there for love at all. Some of them just want the money prize."

"They can get money?"

"If they end up being the favorite couple, they earn like a hundred thousand dollars between themselves," you scoff.

What you would do for a hundred grand.

…Probably not wear anything but a bikini for six weeks and participate in public softcore sex games, but it's the thought that counts.

"And what do the others get?" He asks, "Do they get to keep their loves?"

"…Yeah."

For as long as they can stand them…

"But also, they kind of get to become mini-celebrities. Especially if people actually liked them on the show? They're basically set for life."

"Ahh." He nods, "This is all truly fascinating, I'm sure the anthropologists of your society and people such as myself would love this show."

…

…?

"You?" you say almost incredulously.

"Well, it's a great resource for studying human behaviors. And an acceptable way of documenting their courtship rituals." He explains, "I'd imagine they're far different from Daemos."

Well, you wouldn't say that Love Island, of all things, is a great example of human courting rituals.

You couldn't say that pulling people for chats and having makeout challenges with strangers was orthodox.

But you don't think bombarding him with the context of the show would do him any good. Especially considering how prudish Daemos seem to be.

"…How do rituals like those work? I mean, in your society?" you ask slowly. Unintentionally, but utterly interested.

Perhaps you could finally have some insight as to why Noi still thinks you casted a love spell on him…or why Pierce thought you infected his mind with a sexual aura.

At least, that's how you chose to describe it.

Rhys seems intrigued by your intrigue, "You want to know about Daemos' courtship?"

"Duh?" You shrug, "I mean, you guys seem heartless enough, I don't imagine you guys romance for fun."

"We aren't barbaric." Rhys states with seemingly no offense, "We just do not see the use for distractions like that."

"You think it's a distraction?"

Honestly, you'd agree to some extent. Dating was a real hassle, and you wouldn't exactly place it in your top favorite pastimes.

But maybe that's just your experience with dating apps and "organic" talking stages.

Eugh.

Just the concept alone makes you want to vomit.

If you had to go through another "what's your favorite color" dialogue, you'd legitimately kill yourself.

—So that's obviously why you indulge in the sensual instead.

How can you speak if your mouth's too busy eating?

Call yourself a contrarian, but you loved a good "situationship" now and again.

Though usually that's because you're getting the exact amount of the stick that you want.

…God, you might be the barbaric one…

…

NAH! Everyone you've dealt with seemed to enjoy it well enough.

Except for when they didn't…

…

Ahem.

"When the top priority is survival, I don't see how it wouldn't be," Rhys states.

Well, yeah.

"So then, when do you indulge in romance? Partake in marriage and junk?" You ask with intrigue. Even though you probably know the answer.

Political and—

"Political and economic gain. As well as maintaining a name and lineage." He nods.

God, you're amazing at this.

"What other reason is there?" Rhys' eyebrow quirks, "Are humans not the same?"

…

"I mean it was like that." You shrug, "but we've 'evolved' the need for it."

…sure y'all had.

At least that's not the sole reason anymore.

"Really? So then what is the purpose?"

How do you go about this without overexplaining something he would probably understand…but that you didn't want to get into?

"I mean…for the fuck of it?" You shrug, "Most people have the luxury of falling in love and marrying for the simple purpose of wanting to be with someone."

…

Rhys nods slowly, seemingly taking in the response.

That's probably a profound concept for him…

Haha.

"Have you?" He asks plainly.

…

"Nah." You just shake your head before pointing to yourself, "No one's come to claim this prize."

Not like you'd want it…

Too much work…no real benefit.

Especially if you end up choosing wrong. God forbid that.

You do NOT want to end up on a true crime documentary if your partner decides to kill you and your potential children because they "fell out of love" or cheated on you.

…like just ask for a divorce. It's not that hard.

Cynical, you're being cynical again.

Though…your track record of "partners" kind of justifies it, so who really cares?

"You're a prize?" He asks earnestly.

…

Okay, fuck you?

"Of course I am! Are you blind?" You say with mild offense.

"No, I'm well aware of your physical body." He assures, looking away with a slight blush, "I mean to ask if people call themselves prizes despite courtship not being about that?"

…oh.

Wait.

"No, uh—it's like a form of expression." You explain, "It's like you're complimenting yourself. Something that's worth earning?"

"Ahh…" he nods, "it is similar to us."

"Really?"

"Well, what's the purpose of marrying if it is solely for the public?" He starts, "What would be the point if the person being married didn't have applicable skills?"

Huh…

"What kind of skills exactly?" You squint.

"There's no use in dull shears, no point to a rusted sword. If one is not versed in things that can provide the other with substance, there is no deal." He continues, "For example, one could be great at homemaking, medicinal care, carpentry, childcare."

Okay…

"And the other can be better at hunting, agriculture, vending, magic..."

Of course…it's one of these.

"I noticed you said people." You continue despite the internal aside, "Is there not a split in which gender does what?"

He seems to look over to you with a puzzled expression, as if the question itself was strange, "No? Why would there be?"

…

"I think I'm just surprised with how a uh…"

Progressive it was? It wasn't really…

"I mean—that's pretty cool." You shrug.

To which he nods, "I assume that's not how it works here?"

"Oh no, yeah. Most people want someone who isn't just…there." You correct, "but unfortunately it's not as…pragmatic?"

He seems to want you to continue, his eyes filled with intrigue.

"I mean, it's hard to explain, there's so much diversity between people." You mumble, "I guess, most women want a guy who's capable of being a person on their own…and men want…"

A maid, a sex doll, a mommy, a therapist, a second income, a Madonna, and a whore?

"A lot?"

…not the best answer.

"Ah…I see." He nods, "Because there's no more true necessity, people get to choose their own uses?"

…well. It's not like the requirements have changed much for one of the parties in a long while…

"Sure."

"So if I wanted someone who knows how to make homemade ice cream and does it every day, is that allowed?"

…oh my god.

You can't help but laugh at that. Really, it's kind of sweet.

"I mean, sure, even if it's kind of silly." You giggle.

…though it isn't the most ridiculous thing you've heard from a guy.

"Fascinating…" he nods, "do you happen to have any requirements?"

You give a chuckle to yourself and respond without taking a moment to think, "If being amazing at sex counts as a requirement, then sure."

…

fuck.

Well, you wholly meant it…but he didn't need to know!

Rhys quirks a brow at that, "Copulation?"

Copu…

Oh, it's worse than she thought.

"Sex?" You give a small laugh.

He nods, "Copulation."

…

"Why are you calling it that?" You tilt your head in bafflement.

Screw whatever embarrassment you had in the moment; you may have just busted something wide open.

Screw just talking about romance and that fluffy shit, you should've just started with this!

"…Because that is what it is called." He answers, sounding confused at your confusion.

"Then why do you also know that sex is a synonym?"

"That's the crude, uncouth way to say it."

Oh, come off it. That can't be true.

"That's such an…unsexy word for it." You cringe.

"Well, it is an unsexy process."

…

He's ragebaiting you.

"What do you think sex is?" You keep your tone from sounding too emotional.

You know you're voluntarily going into the jungle-scape of repression and virginity for glory…

But directly disrespecting the name of sex? The most primal desire besides wanting to live? AND calling it unsexy?!

…Yeah, okay, it could be at times. Especially if you like, think about it for too long while doing it and overthink about how awkward it all really was. Having to be naked and vulnerable while doing stuff that wasn't truly intended to each other's bodies.

—BUT! The majority of the time, it was sick as hell!

"Copulation is the act of coming together for the purposes of reproduction." He explains, emphasizing his chosen term.

Haha. He said cumming together.

Ahem.

"But…what if you don't want to reproduce?" you scoff.

"Then you don't copulate," he states.

???

What was this? 1984?

…you can't make that joke; you've never read the book.

In any case, could you even trust this guy to give you accurate information? What was he again? A scholar, right?

Nerds don't fuck.

"Is that a hard-and-fast rule…or…" You murmur, eyeing him up.

"Unless you're a degenerate, you leave those kinds of desires to wait until you're married." He explains, "Purity of both parties is important for a good transaction."

…so you'd be a degenerate…

Eh. Makes sense.

But—

"You gotta save room for Jesus in the meantime?" you smirk lazily. The jokes write themselves, what can you say?

"Who is Jesus?"

…

tough crowd.

Wait. Does that imply that there isn't a higher power telling them to do that stuff? If they don't have a Jesus-like figure?

That's how you connect things, right? God, you feel like Nicotine Tesla right now.

"That system…who came up with it?" you probe, bringing your hand to your chin, "Is it like a scripture or a book…?"

"It simply makes the most sense." He states, "If you're bringing pristine hardware to the table, would you want to trade used goods?"

…

You can't help how your eyes widen at the comment.

They're doing this for the love of the game, okay…uhm…

"Hu—Daemos aren't objects, though. You guys are like living beings?" You bunch up as you speak, kind of getting offended for them.

Cause like…that's just that stupid chewed gum comparison those incels use on a wider, more miserable scale. You don't lose value the second you stick your thang in someone, or someone sticks their thang in you!

ugh.

You don't think you've been this riled up since your socratic seminars in that jank Philosophy college class you took for your undergraduate.

Somehow you were the smartest person there! Amateurs, letting the marketing major beat you out.

"We're pragmatic creatures." He explains, "Unless it has to do with conquering, surviving, or protecting the crown, it is unnecessary."

…

Bootlicker.

ahem.

"…I think I'm just stuck on why you think it's unsexy."

Really? That's your only gripe?

The only one you could muster without being disrespectful.

His brow furrows at your comment, "I mean, I've only heard."

"Heard what? You research that kind of stuff?" You raise your eyebrows as you joke.

Nerds can also be freaks.

You likey.

…

You make sure your internal cringed face doesn’t bleed into your actual one.

You should be barred from thinking.

He seems to look away, a slight red on his face, "I have the unfortunate affliction of having Leif on my team. He can be rather uncouth at times."

How could he possibly describe it to make it sound that unappealing?

… Never mind, on further thought, you know exactly how a guy would explain it.

"Okay…but like, besides that." You continue, "Anything other than silly, out-of-date textbooks?"

He just gives a shake of his head.

"Would you like to learn?" You hesitate to say.

Mostly because you didn't mean to say it. But an opportunity to teach one of these assholes how to be normal about that kind of stuff was too tempting not to.

"I mean—because you said before that you want to get to know Earth culture better!" She scoffs, "And sex is…kind of a big deal to us."

Whatever lingering red he had on his face blooms exponentially at that, "You'd be able to…?"

"Duh?" you laugh, "I'm the expert on this kind of stuff! The sex-pert, if you will…"

And while you'd usually choke yourself for being corny like that out loud, it felt just fine right here.

Probably because of the person you're talking to—Rhys was exceptionally great at keeping your interest…and he isn't as snooty as you initially judged him to be.

He's just a guy. A normal one who actually just wants to talk with you.

Not argue like Asch or pester you like Leif. Not avoid you like Noi (God, you're still devastated about that) or stare at you like Pierce.

He's normal…and pleasant.

…But also, mostly, this whole thing has given you a second wind, and you're not gonna let that go to waste.

Beats being depressed on the couch! Or having a mini crisis over something that might be nothing at all.

"I—" He clears his throat with a cough, "Like what…?"

"I don't know…what do you wanna know?" You grin, leaning back, "What are you interested in figuring out?"

He looks away, seemingly in thought.

…pretty deep thought. It takes him a little while to decide.

"Well, I think I want to know why you think it's so alluring." He admits, "So I can understand why you need it as a requirement."

Oh my goodness, you love this questionnn!!!!

Probably the best thing he could've started with.

You adjust up to sit on your shins, leaning slightly closer, probably having the silliest smile on your face, "Okay—well, where do I start…"

Where do you even start?

"Uh…okay. So I guess there's like this passion to it that can't particularly be expressed in any other form of communication—it can be an amplifier of sorts." You say, "Hate sex, makeup sex, celebratory sex—there's just so many different ways to experience it. And everyone has their own way of expressing it in varying contexts. You're not gonna get the same thing every single time, even with the same person."

He seems to nod before opening his mouth again, "Is that why you find it so sexy?"

…Well, that's a completely different adjective.

Is that what he meant before?

"Well, no…that's why I like it," you mumble, "I think to answer that…I'd have to know exactly why you don't think it is…what have you heard exactly?"

He gives a gentle sigh, "It feels a bit embarrassing to say…I'm not used to being so brash."

You just shake your head, "Take your time, use whatever words you feel comfortable with. Though I'm probably gonna call them something cruder."

"T-that's fine." He assures, his hand coming to scratch his cheek, "Uh…well, as I've heard from a vibrant teammate, his escapades have been…very harsh sounding?"

Yeah…some people have a habit of that…

"Like it's a conquest?" You scoff.

Which he only nods at.

"Well, at times it can be—but usually that's kind of the point? If we're assuming that both parties are fans of rough sex, you cringe, "But to mention it really does kind of land really crude."

You know you drop a joke once and again, but you don't think you'd ever brag about how dominant you are or how you make people submit…that's no one's business except yours and potential candidates. Wink.

"I know the idea of rough sex sounds like—off-putting, but I promise when you're in the mood it's awesome."

You don't think you'd ever describe sex as awesome unironically, but here you are. The things you do for these people.

"What is that mood?" He asks tentatively, his eyes keeping your stare.

…

You bite your lip. You don't want to get too graphic…but damn…

He's tempting you.

"How graphic can I get?" You ask softly.

"All of it." He assures, nodding absentmindedly.

Which only makes you giggle, "A true scholar, huh? Well…I mean, it's simple. You've been horny before, right?"

He tilts his head in confusion.

"Aroused?" you scoff—remembering you don’t share the same terminology.

"Uh…no, I don't think." He admits.

"You're lying." You almost gasp, "You've never felt that pull in your gut? That…buzzing in your skin? Heat on your cheeks?"

Rhys just gives a slight laugh, "I don't think I've ever had the time to. Or the… ingredients?"

…This was harder than you thought.

"Have you seriously never thought of anything that turned you on? Some people just get it randomly."

He just shakes his head again.

He most certainly had. There's no way, right? He probably just misdiagnosed it as something else.

"That doesn't really put a bump in anything…just makes it slightly more difficult to explain," You assure. "Obviously—you know we have different anatomy, so I'm just gonna go through what it feels like to me. Is that okay?"

"Yes—yeah." He assures.

"As I said…it's this buzzing—not just on my skin, but in my whole body. It really depends on, like, the level of arousal…but let's assume I really need a good fuck." You can't help but blush at your own crassness.

You did say you weren't gonna hold back…

"I'd be physically flushed. I'd feel warm for sure…not a sick warm but…like a good warm." You laugh, "Ah…honestly, there's no real physical tell—in the sense of how guys do. Instead, it's a pulse between my legs, aching and yet almost delicious feeling."

You don't think you have the guts to look at him while you describe this. You don't think you've ever put this much thought into this part.

"My skin gets pretty sensitive too, in the weirdest places. My shoulders, my thighs…and when I'm especially needy, I'll be so wet that I'll soak through my panties."

"What's that?" He pipes up.

"What's what?"

"Being wet?"

"It's the way my body shows its arousal," you explain, "It's kind of like a lubricant that happens when I get excited, my body is preparing for sex in a way."

If you're honest, you know it's more than just that…but explaining the mechanics feels kind of unsexy.

…Maybe if you switch up the terminology…

"And it's in excess?"

"When I'm really excited, yeah." You laugh, finally looking at him, "It's a little annoying, if I can admit. Cause I would already be super messy and I haven't even gotten touched yet."

"Messy…" He repeats, keeping his eyes lower than your gaze. On what exactly, you can't tell.

But if you had a guess…

"Really messy." You feel a smile growing on your lips.

His eyes flick back to yours before quickly looking off to the side, "…If I could ask…"

"Yeah?"

"Could you describe how you feel when someone…uhm…"

He can't even get his words out. Adorable.

"Someone what, Rhys?" You ask gently, "When someone touches me?"

He gives a hesitant nod, "That's when it gets even sexier, right? When the c-copulation begins?"

Aaaand girl-boner dead.

"Well…yes…" You can't help the sweet smile fixing itself on your face despite the buzzkill of a term, "But first…I wanna know what you know. What happens during 'copulation'…"

"Uh—well…" he clears his throat, straightening up, "From what I've heard…and read, it's a pretty simple process. Two parties come together and do the thing; once they both finish, they're done."

Both finish? That's new…

At least they think that both parties need to be satisfied for it to be a successful mating.

Eugh. Gross.

Mating. Such an animalistic term.

…kinda hot.

"That's it?" You squint.

"What else is there?" He asks, his frown quirking to the side, "The point is to make sure the pair has a child. The most efficient way is to just do it?"

…Right…they also think it's only successful if it's for the purpose of breeding.

…mmhhggg…breeding…

But enough about your hypocrisy—

"Well, the point here isn't that…usually," You cover your mouth as you cough, "Mostly…? Some people—too many people still think like y'all do."

He just furrows his eyebrows, probably mostly in confusion. In what you also hope is slight offense.

"Look, you're somewhat right, that's how some people do it." You assure, "But us enlightened folk like to play a little before we get really into it. It helps out immensely with that stiffness you're imagining."

"The…" He trails off before nodding, "What do you do?"

"It's called foreplay." You lean back on the opposite side armrest from him, "It technically is included in sex, but most people separate the terms…cause they're selfish."

…not really.

Mostly yes.

"Foreplay…before-play." He mumbles.

Color you surprised, you whistle, "They don't call you the number one epic royal scholar for nothing, huh?"

"They do not call me that."

"Eh, someone probably does." You dismiss before continuing, "Anyway, foreplay—it's anything that isn't penetration and that helps build the tension."

"So you do not just jump into it?" He questions,

"If you wanna make sure everyone's warmed up and prepped, then absolutely." You nod. And just to sound extra smart, "Think making-out, sensual touching, dirty talking, stripping, grinding, even oral and outercourse."

With each term, his face morphs further into confusion.

sigh.

"…Which one are you most curious about?"

"Well, I can parse out most of them," He assures, probably so you don't think he's hopeless, "But how is talking like filth to someone supposed to 'warm them up'?"

God must love you.

"Dirty talking actually works better in combination with another form of foreplay—or even during sex itself." You stick your finger up like a nerd, "Though you shouldn't underestimate how words can make or break the mood. You want an example?"

He gives a gentle nod.

You hoist yourself back up from your lazy little rut, to now sit on your knees far closer to him.

"Are you okay with me getting closer—and uh, touching you?" You ask lightly as you continue to scoot.

"Of course…"

You give a slight huff before tilting your head down and to the side, looking up from just under him, "Y'know Rhys, I think you look rather sexy in your civilian clothes…"

The harsh flush on his cheeks makes you rather giddy inside, "I—uh…what?"

"Yeah, so refined and proper." You give a soft, coy smile. One of your fingers hook onto the collar of his sweater vest, "Very snug and form fitting. Leave something for my imagination…"

You let your hand trail down to his sides for a moment, strumming them like the strings of a harp, "Gives me just enough to dream about."

All that comes from him sounds like an attempt at a groan.

"Hm? You like the idea that I dream about you?" You smile right at his comically horrified face. Certainly not of actual horror, but of not being able to handle your swag.

"I—don't…mind it?" He whispers, fixing his face instantly.

"Do you mind what I dream about?" you say while taking his hand into your two, playing with his delicate, long fingers.

You can hear the way he gulps, "What do you dream about?"

"I dream about how disheveled you'd look as you fuck into me from behind, your glasses completely fogged with the loss of composure. How your lean stomach would look pretty and silky exposed because you wouldn't want to dirty your nice shirt up, even though you couldn't be bothered to take anything else off because of the utter desperation you have to take me. How your pretty, strong hands would hold me down and make me take every last drop of your cum like I know you want to."

You don't think he's breathing anymore, but that doesn't really sway you from anything. Instead, you guide his hand to your face, letting it cup your cheek and thumb your lip, "…Do you want to?"

He has a dumbfounded look on his face. A quiet, almost blossoming realization painted there, "…I think I'm feeling that mood now."

Your eyes flutter for a moment before an amused huff finds your lips, "What do you want to do about it?"

You honestly couldn't tell how long it's been. Not when all of your senses are drowned in the man in front of you.

Your ears are blessed with soft whines whenever he feels your tongue pass his for the umpteenth time. Your hands are greeted with shivers and twitches as they rake under his sweater vest, almost clawing against his white button-up. Not to even mention his taste, delicate and sweet, like rose flavored turkish delight.

Not what you had expected at all, but something you're cherishing.

And even though you were particularly content with receiving the side effects of your affection unto him…he seemed to have other plans for you.

Pleasant plans that involve his hands. How they knead whatever skin is available to him…and even all that isn't.

He lets himself dip underneath your loose pajama shorts, massaging just under the dip of your ass, thumbs pulling the skin in a circular motion, pushing apart and pressing together the back of your inner thighs. Barely high enough so that the action was also affecting your aching pussy.

You can't help the quiet moan that comes from your frustration. Your eyes find his heavy ones, almost admiring you.

Though it isn't you who speaks up next…

"I would like to see the effects of your arousal…if I could." He mumbles softly, "I want to know what the wetness is."

"…The one I described before?" You whisper back.

He gives a gentle nod, "I want to know how sloppy you are for me…"

Oh, how you hope he can feel you shiver.

Was he…

That was…

"You're good at that…" You smirk softly, "Where'd you even get that word?"

"I simply thought about it, and it made me heat up…" He explains, "Isn't that how you do it?"

"Nah…" You lean forward to kiss against his jaw, "I just black out and say what I really want to…"

That gets him to chuckle, "And you really wanted to say that you dream of this?"

You look up for a moment in thought, before flicking back to him, "Yup."

You lean back forward to catch his lips again. A small peck, just enough to get another taste.

He gives himself fully, even in the short kiss. He pulls away, flushed once more, "Can…we keep going? Further…to uh…"

"hm?" You smile playfully, leaning against him.

"I want to…explore something you said earlier. I was curious to examine—or well, to see what you meant by…" He trails off, his eyebrows furrowing as if he were thinking about how to say something, "…The place between your legs."

…

"You wanna see my pussy?" Your voice turns breathy, a shallow attempt to both hide your amusement at his confusion and pleasure at his insistence.

"Mhm," He affirms before looking away in embarrassment, "I'm sorry, I was trying to find a prettier way to say vagina."

At least he knows what it's called.

Though you can't help but pity their lack of synonyms. That's what makes most of the magic after all.

"Too clinical?" You tilt your head in a tease.

"Not right for the mood," He nods, "…But I think that one works way better."

"Makes you all fluttery?"

"Makes me warm." He whispers, dipping his head down, "Frankly, the concept itself makes me warm."

You're sure you're smiling like a middle-aged man who thinks he really has a connection going with a stripper.

…not to say that Rhys was a…

You wouldn't mind that.

"So—uh, can I see your pussy, please?" He repeats the word, sounding hesitant and a little shy.

God, it was adorable.

"…We've got time." You slide back away from him, helping yourself out of your shorts. You could almost blush at how intently he was watching you.

To ease your mood, you flick your bottoms over to him, startling him from his staring.

"Pervert," you chide playfully.

He gives a soft pout at the insult.

Thankfully, that has the same connotation.

You just laugh and give a soft hum, "You're not even getting a good look…c'mere."

You carefully spread your legs up in the "sexiest" way you could. Left leg out and right tucked up to your chest.

You're on a couch after all, you got no room.

He scoots forward slightly, hunching slightly over to settle himself. He has his hand on his chin, his head tilted in intrigue.

…Examining you like a specimen.

"You're acting as if you've never seen this kind of thing ever." You can't help but scoff, "I know you've at least seen a diagram."

"It's different though," He mumbles, "In the picture it didn't look so…pretty."

Isn't he just a bottle of crystal sugar sprinkles?

You could almost blush.

"Now you just want me to get to the good part." You mutter with a laugh.

"N-no." He shakes his head, "I just…really mean it. It's so glossy and pearly and…"

He trails off as he notices something, "Dribbling."

Now he's just embarrassing you.

This has been a fact. An "embarrassing" fact.

Oh, how will you ever live with the supersoaker in your pants?

heh…

"Thank you." You smile softly, "I mean it is because of you…"

"All of it?"

Ehhh…yeah?

You were serious about the dream. Many an early morning rub had been provoked by those sexy glasses and those long gorgeous locs. You're surprised Daemos had such astute locticians available for such services.

—But enough about you wanking it to him.

"Who else?" You roll your eyes.

"I just…" He looks away, rather shy still, "What do you do about it?"

"Hm?"

"I mean…it must feel uncomfortable, right? Kissing can only do so much to relieve the ache," He explains.

…

"You wanna see what I do?" You can feel the shit-eating grin slide onto your face.

He gives a wordless nod, only watching as you adjust yourself.

"When I don't have anyone to help me out…and I need to relieve the feeling, I turn to myself to be my 'partner.'" You let yourself trace over around your folds, slightly teasing yourself.

You hope he's actually paying attention as you do…he might be too busy with the visual.

"Sex can be done by yourself too, though some people don't include it in the definition." You bite your lip as you swipe down the seam, "…It's called masturbation."

"Ahh…"

You moan slightly as you allow the pad of your finger to press against your clit, finally relieving the tension. "This is how I do it."

Rather sloppily now…but it was too slippery not to be.

Fuck, you liked it when it was just like this. Too messy to even please yourself correctly.

"Pressing right there?" He asks, "That's the…clitorus, right?"

Its government name sounds so unsexy right now, but his voice sounds just right enough to balance that out.

So introspective and keen. Almost eager.

Those eyes especially were. How they're almost eating up your movements, infatuated probably at the fact that you're like this for him.

"W-well…I rub~" You manage to speak in a moan, letting your middle finger do the talking counterclockwise.

You should be rather embarrassed at how easily and quickly you're falling apart. How you're just pleasing yourself in front of him.

For the purposes of education…for your own greedy need of exhibition.

Fuck, you really are a slut…

"Do you also utilize the actual entrance?" He asks with curiosity, popping you out of your own personal degrading dirty talk.

Sometimes you just gotta be your biggest supporter for what you really want in life.

"Not alone…" You whimper—damn it was hard answering questions while fucking yourself…

But damn if it didn't also feel fantastic.

Some sick sense of trying to save face just enough to be normal. To pretend you're detached and just a teacher…

"Why's that?"

Well, you are right now…to your day-dreaming disappointment.

"It doesn't do anythin' for me," You sigh, letting the creak in your voice settle, "—My fingers do jack. If I want something stuffed in me, I'll take a toy over my nubs."

Are you being vulgar? That phrase felt aggressive.

…Fuck though, you really want something stuffed in you right now.

"I see…" he nods, before taking a long while before speaking up, "Do you happen to know how male masturbation works…?"

…

You let your head fall back at just the concept of him stroking his cock over you as you play with yourself. He's really perfect, isn't he?

"Mhm~" Is all you manage, "Don't you…?"

There's silence for a moment before…

"…If I can be vulnerable…" He trails off, "I've only ever done anything close by accident. Some nights I would awake to be lying on my stomach, my body moving for myself in the silence of my dreams. It felt…better than anything, but I'd stop the moment I'd come to."

Fuuuuck.

Waiter! More dryhumping scenarios, please!!

"You can't even please yourself?" You manage through your increasingly stilted breathing.

He shakes his head, "It's not a concrete rule…but as a scholar of the royal family, I can't allow myself to be distracted by those kinds of earthly pleasures."

You're actually about to cream your pants.

There was something completely wrong with you if that's what gets you going.

No one call you Mr.Right then—up top!

…For your own sanity, you stop your own movements to focus on him.

"Purity—too in s'me way," you say in almost a slur, sitting up slightly, "but—didn't seem to stop you doing it anyways, huh?"

He looks at you with mild confusion.

…

You clear your throat while trying to grasp at any kind of composure, "I mean, you say that—but clearly your body still needs it. It just manifests in the times where you can't really protest."

"Need?"

"Yeah—to an extent masturbation is a great way to relieve tension, stress, pent-up desire…" You mumble, "It's like any other vice—probably exceedingly healthier than any substance."

…as long as you don't mix it with pornography, but you're not gonna mention that to him.

You're not gonna be responsible for introducing him to that beast.

Look—you're not a prude, but you can't find it in yourself to enjoy an industry built upon the subjugation of both women and men to an extent.

Most of it isn't even authentic anyway—and those titles are disgusting.

You'd take your own mind over whatever slop they have.

…What were you on about again?

"Substance…" He nods.

"Anyway—" You shake your head, "It's uh…simple. Can I…"

Your hand hovers closer to his pants, a pair of slack. Sharp but clear in just how suffocating they were. Stuffy, actually, just too formal for most casual outings.

Maybe that's just your own preferences speaking.

He gives a huff of agreement, barely moving his head to affirm his words.

Gently, you unbuckle his belt. The best you could do with one hand, but that's what made it better, right? The struggle and the delay?

You just needed to see this man's dick, oh my lanta.

"You can do the rest, right?" You almost whisper, "Pull yourself out for me…"

He does so, taking his time to adjust his pants down his hips.

Coming undone without being touched was a thing, right?

He looks away the second he has it in the open air. His hands quickly placed themselves behind to let his cock speak for itself.

Delicate-looking, like his fingers, curved upwards and standing proudly just for you. Your hand moves up instinctually, sliding against the underside of it with only light pressure.

His face scrunches with a hitched breath, his cock stuttering just after.

"Sorry," you whisper, "Sensitive?"

He gives a small nod, "Yes—in a way that I don't think I've felt before."

"Jolt of pleasure?"

"Something like that, I think…" He utters, "Uh—what do I do?"

You give a soft laugh before bringing your hand back to yourself, collecting slick as best you could…

Before tentatively coming back up to him, "Watch…"

Slowly, you wrap around his shaft and begin stroking him.

The utter pleasure that bellows from his lips made you almost cry tears of joy. You can already see his legs tremble.

"See?" you say in a slightly breathless tone.

"Mhm~" He tries to say through the contact, "A-ah…"

You can't help but giggle while you watch how his hips stutter against your movements, almost desperate for more. His tip drooling just a little more precum with each pass.

"You think you could take over, lovely?" You whisper softly, "Can you stroke your perfect cock for me while I fuck myself and watch?"

He gives a long whine at that, taking control of where you were holding. He gives a few experimental tugs as you adjust your own position, so that you two are more apart…and so he was just hovering over your eager cunt.

Slowly, your hand returns to your own parts, settling against your freshly soaked fold. Your eyes keep with his, for the second they're on you…til, of course, they flick to your hand circling your clit once again.

You give a slight groan as you do your best to spread your legs further, for comfort and so he could get a better view. Helping yourself out with a faster speed.

"Thank you so much…" He whines softly, his breath barely catching up to his mouth, "—For teaching me~."

Was he…?

Was he thanking you while playing with himself?

Whoa momma.

…Is the only thing you can muster through your own bated breath. You're too busy watching how his hips pound right into his fist. How he doesn't even care to cover his moans—though really neither do you.

Both of you babble incomplete thoughts.

—What you assume is nothing of substance.

You can't really hear much over the sound of your slickness and the erotic shlick shlick shlick of his strokes.

You give a long moan, tightening up your touches, "Are you gonna cum on my stomach? Mark me?"

That seems to make him groan, his hand only moving faster.

And while you relish it, it can only do so much to satisfy the ache in you.

You need way more…

But he looks so utterly pleased now. You don't think you can convince him to…

"Or d'ya wanna make a mess of my pretty pussy…?" you ask with a whine in your voice.

Like a duck on a June bug, his eyes flick right up to yours, a stutter coming from his lips. Barely anything but clearly a fumble to say yes.

"Yeah? You do?" You nod as you speak, goading him to nod along.

"Here, let me…" You shift around to adjust him exactly how you need him. Hunched down way more, your own legs up and bent, on either side of his frame.

His blushed cock right against your puffy pussy.

"How does that feel? Right?" You mumble, looking down at his weeping slit, "Ah—I can feel you twitch…"

He swallows roughly, giving it his all to respond, "You're so warm… "

"Mhm?" You nod along, your tone almost patronizing, "Now, it's just like your accidental masturbation…you got it?"

He nods silently, eyes glued on yours, "Y-yes…I—"

He cuts himself off as his body seemingly moves on its own, grinding against you. The noise that comes out of him is almost pathetic. A mix of a cry and a groan. One that only continues as he finds a rhythm.

Half stutters, full hilt pushes, embarrassing blows that slip him off of his target. Nothing seems to stop him from continuing to try. It was almost adorable…

"Mmph!~"

Until it wasn't…

Fuck—he figured out exactly where to position himself, so he's dragging right against your entrance the entire way through.

You can feel yourself clench onto nothing. The stimulation of him both teasing you and grinding against your clit making your head spin…but you don't want to just…not without…

"—Not in me, right?" You speak out, the words coming from your mouth before you can even think about what you're doing.

"H-huh?" His hips stagger for a second, his eyes back on you.

"I…I mean…y'know penetration?" You look away before clearing your throat, "I assume you don't want to go too far, right? I just remembered…"

…

"Cause this isn't for…" You mumble, "And you have to stay pure for...We're not…"

What are you saying?!

Great, now you're the one spoiling the mood.

His eyes flash some kind of emotion before hesitantly nodding, "Of course, I…yes."

"…I just want to make sure because…" Your teeth nibble against your bottom lip, keeping eye contact through your lashes, "I wouldn't want to accidentally ruin you."

…

Oh, you're evil…

"You…don't have to worry about that." He assures, shaking his head, "You're not gonna—"

"—I mean, since this is such a risky position." You whisper, brows knitted, "It wouldn't take much to just…slide into me? To stuff your cock into my warm, welcoming pussy and just fuck me?"

You feel the way he jerks instinctively at your words. You just start shaking your head again, a pitiful expression on your face, "We wouldn't want that, right?"

His eyebrows raise at that for only a moment before easing back, his own lips pressing together, "No, we certainly wouldn't—that would be a true shame…devastating."

He emphasizes the last word with another thrust, far more pressure now.

You fully bite your lip, a soft whine from your throat, "You have enough control of your movements for that to not even be a possibility though, don't you, Rhys? Even against something as soaked as me?"

"Mhm~" He says breathlessly, helping you adjust your hips—lifting them up ever so, "So fucking wet for me…"

He pulls back his hips so each pass catches on your entrance. Only a moment at first…before slowly lingering. Almost teasing the idea.

"…But even if you 'accidently'—mph!—did…you'd be able to stop, wouldn't you?" You ask, barely, but you did, "You have enough restraint and self-control to pull out, wouldn't you?"

"Yes…" He nods instantly, "I wouldn't just keep going and never stop—don't wanna ever stop…"

The aside was managed in a slurred whisper, like something he was saying to himself. A secret that you're indulging in as well.

This man…

You wonder how far you could push this 'til he breaks.

"Mh—we should probably, though…" You say gently, your hands raking gently down his forearms to hold his hands, "I mean we don't want to risk it…"

That gets a whimper out of him, his pushes getting shallower.

…heheheh.

He shakes his head quickly, "There's nothing to risk. We won't."

"You never know…" Slowly, you lift up your shirt, the only article of clothing you still have on. Only to expose the utter lack of bra, "Maybe it'd be safer to just go back to me touching myself and you doing the same."

Your hands move up to show off your chest playfully, lifting it up slightly, "after all, you don't need to be completely enveloped in my cushy walls. You don't need to watch my tits bounce with every thrust…"

His low whine only makes your sloppily hidden grin widen, "You can still make a mess of me without the risk. You can still cum on my pussy. it'll be the sa—ahh~"

"Fuuuck yes…" His head tilts back with a groan, his hips finally pushing all the way in. His desperate cock finally nestling into your cunt, "I do…I need it so bad…"

"And you need it too, don't you?" His hands move to grip the back of your thighs, his weight falling down against you as his head lands on your collar, "You're so tight—you never want me to leave, huh?"

Well, if he's offering…

You'd think of something clever to say back, but at the moment, you were just savoring the feeling of how full you felt.

All you can do is give a mewl of pleasure, your nails delicately scraping his back. A gentle pressure, just to get him back for teasing you.

He groans at that, his hips finally stuttering back to life.

An awkward rhythm, jerky full thrusts. Probably because he was trying not to cum immediately.

hehehe…

"Like this?" He asks softly, lifting his head up to find your eyes. His movements are slower, far more even than before.

"Mhm…" You tilt your head with a sigh, your hand finds a place against his scalp, combing through his locs gently, "Can you go just a little faster for me, though? It'll feel so good."

He gives a soft nod, obliging without a word.

Slow thrusts climb in intensity, and with them, whines from him.

"Ah~ [__]~" he moans, lifting himself off of you.

His hips adjust quicker than his speed, finding a fluid momentum that doesn't jitter…as much.

His hands find solace in the fat of your thighs still, squishing and kneading to their hearts' content. An unconscious weight in the form of his figure presses your legs back further into your stomach, bending you and giving him much better access.

"Rhys~" you gasp, letting your own head fall back at the utter pleasure coursing through your veins.

How could you not when he was ramming right into your cunt so deep? Dragging against that spongy spot with each thrust.

You can imagine the show he’s getting with how the rest of your body responds, moving with the wave. Your tits perked and free, bounced in satisfying circles, just pretty enough to fully keep his focus.

"So—fu–ahhh~" he hisses, feeling right when you squeeze onto him.

You can't help the giggle, looking up to see his scrunched face morphing right back into intense focus. Eyes solely watching you, with a pout.

"You—aren't playing fair…" he manages, "I can't just…Mhf—"

Your body jolts at how his speed quickens. Most certainly not purposeful.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You grin up at him, "It's just my body reactin' to your fuckin'. It means you're doing a goooood—job!!~"

One of his hands settles against your lower stomach, the thumb right against your clit, clumsily circling touches onto it.

"What's wrong?" He breathes out, a lazy grin forming on his face, "I'm just doing something about it. You okay with that?"

…

Fucking hell.

Look at the attitude on this one.

"Mhm~" You nod, letting yourself settle back onto the couch further, "So okay…"

Erotic moans from you and him fill the quiet nothing of the apartment, whatever stupid show you had on, long turned off. Instead, the space filled with the delicious slapping of his skin against yours and the embarrassingly loud, rhythmic shlick of your cunt.

God, you could cum from the sound alone. So passionate—filled with desire.

Your eyes manage to look up at him, lidded and heavy. Drinking up the way his slightly smug smile drains back into a hiss, "How long does this—usually last?"

That question would be rather silly…if you didn't know who was asking it…and if you yourself weren't struggling to stay composed.

"At the rate…you're going—fuck~" You gasp, feeling his hips continue their unsteady rise of pace, "Not long…"

You're a little afraid that he was gonna blow his load accidentally, actually. With how is he handling the grip you've got on him, as well as the masterpiece in front of him—if you could be so vain.

You're trying to find solace in being destabilized right now, okay?!

…You're also trying to distract yourself from not cumming til' he's ready. It'd be kind of sweet to come together…

…As a final thank you for the lesson.

"I think…then…" He manages through his bated breath, "I'm almost there…"

Fuuuck yes.

"Here—lean up…" You attempt to guide him back down against you, helping his hands bend you even further. Your own holding his shoulders, "It'll feel so good just like this."

Was this a slightly impossible position to quickly pull out of? Maybe…

Was that the thing that you were secretly hoping to achieve? Who knows?

You're too fucked out to really care—or so you say.

A tiny whimper comes from his throat as he adjusts, his eyes looking down directly onto your fucked out face. Hair messy and falling down to frame your own face, "How am I even deeper than before?"

"Magic?" You joke, "My pussy's magical, y'know."

"Magic's too abstract to explain the perfection I'm feeling now." He asserts with a groan.

…Okay, love-bombing.

You were almost drowned in the utter sap of the statement.

…But instead of shying away from the sickness—your legs wrap right around his hips, pulling him flush against you.

"I could say the same for you…" You mumble before catching his lips.

Oh, how his pelvis jitters, figuring out how to still move despite the restraint. Something that you were absolutely reveling in.

"'M gonna come…" You whisper, looking right into his eyes, "Come with me? Come in me…"

"But…" He mumbles back, "The—uh…"

You just shake your head and shut him up with another kiss, squeezing your legs tight.

Whatever hesitance seems to vanish then, his movements now sloppy as he chases exactly what you were asking.

And what you were asking was coming to you much quicker than to him.

Your heartbeat climbs in intensity, your legs quivering with the pent-up energy of release. The taste of him on your tongue, the pressure of his weight on yours.

You could scream if he wasn't muffling your mouth with his own.

You manage, coming undone with the ever-present sensation of him still unrelentingly pounding into you. Even after your wave mellows out…even as you feel his own release paint your walls.

A warm, heavy load that you wished you were able to watch drip out in this very second.

Unfortunately, however, he had other plans.

"Rhys—haah!" You whimper against him, nails digging hard into his skin.

"Can't…never…" He assures gently, his lips leaning down to place sloppy kisses against your skin, "More…"

You could almost giggle—

Well, could is the wrong word.

You were. Through your uneven breathing and your whimpers, you were laughing, "You're gonna—ah…get a cramp…"

He doesn't really seem to care, though, not as his tongue lulls out to taste your neck.

He's definitely going to get a lesson on overstimulation…

And so were you.

The coaxing of another orgasm hits you like a high. Another sudden, harsh crash that, despite your worry, felt so much better than the first.

…You never said you were a saint.

"How many orgasms can the human body take?" He mumbles, delicate kisses pressing onto you with each word.

"S'me…uhh…" You try to respond. Though really, that was dead in the water the moment you came again.

That seems to get a slight huff from him, "I guess we'll find out…"

…Seems you just created a monster.

heheh sweeeet.

It had been rather easy to get back to normal after he came to his senses. A charley horse, one consolation later, and a long gazing session at the mess he left in and on your cunt.

That part was utterly satisfying.

The rest, however…

You weren't glad about it, but it was karma.

The chattering from the TV now surrounds the darkened living room you two were still occupying. Another episode of a flippant reality show droning on has Rhys—and you, to an extent—entranced.

"Why would he do that? They just went to the 'hideaway' last night…" He grumbles, squinting at the shirtless man on the screen.

"Because men are stupid and he clearly just wanted sex." You scoff, letting your legs recline on his lap.

"…Not all men." He gives a small huff, looking towards you.

"Ehh…most." You retort, giving a shrug.

A jingling of keys cuts you off from the brew discussion…only for a chorus of voices to take its place.

Loud… grating voices.

Mostly Asch yelling. Oh, how you missed that.

You flop back onto the couch in a huff; at least you got peace for a little bit.

…and a piece of ass. Ha!

"Other human!" Asch yells right at you, probably as he encroaches on the couch, but you couldn't be bothered to check.

"I still have a name." You deadpan.

"—You missed out on the best outing ever in favor of your nothing mood!" He continues despite your disinterest.

"Good for you."

"I want you to know so you feel bad!"

"…I'm sure that's the intention."

"Your Majesty, you mustn't insult Princess Ava's friend so. She is a hunter, remember?" Rhys' voice comes back into your ears as a treat, his hands gently massaging your calves—which felt amazing after being held up for so long.

Ahhh, this is the life.

"She's yet to bow to me fairly." He asserts back. You can feel his eyes glare at your being with disdain, "I have no reason for respect, especially to a hunter."

Nevermind.

God, he says it like it's a slur.

Then again, it's really in his right. You are technically (allegedly) an exterminator of his people; you'd be the same.

…God, what even was that lie? All that's killer about you is your killer pussy!

"That's because I'm not a royal dick rider." You finally lift yourself back up to stare him down.

Only to watch his eyes combust with anger. Before he can yell anything, though, here comes another nuisance.

"—What's this about riding?" Leif saunters over with a smile, "I heard hunting too—y'all are just discussing my favorite things over here, huh?"

…

You just flop back onto your back, completely done with all of them. "Where's Ava?"

To come collect them, to shoo them away—anything.

"Princess Ava's busy with Mrs. Oats downstairs." Leif says with a shrug, leaning over the couch to leer at you, "Aw…but don't look so sad. You got me here~."

"That's the problem," you retort with stress in your tone.

That gets a scoff from him.

"You gotta give me some grace, y'know?" He pouts sarcastically, "You're rather rude to someone who is in the same line of work…we should be brothers-in-arms…mmm…closer?"

Brothers but closer? Call that siblings and dating.

"I work alone." You roll your eyes.

"Like all good assassins." He grins.

"Is the other human doing any better?" Another deep voice joins the fray.

He stands right next to Asch, on the other side of the couch. His hands crossed in his usual guarded stance, but his face was far daintier.

…And trailing behind him was one orange motherfucker—STILL not even glancing your way. You'd sneer at him if you cared enough.

…God, you cared too much.

"Hi Pierce.." You decide to say, focusing on him rather than Noi.

If he wasn't going to give you the time of day, why were you?

"Hello," He says in a slightly softer register, "I can see that your spirits have been raised. That is good."

"Yeah—I mean you sent the right person for the job." You assure, a gentle smile on your face as you look back at Rhys. Besides the sex, he was a real comfort. Good conversation, actual comfort through shared experience.

You couldn't even get that luxury with Ava anymore. That broke your heart.

"We did not send anyone," Pierce states.

Your eyebrows quirk. Huh.

Rhys did tell you that before…but you weren't exactly rearing to believe him.

Not because he himself wasn't trustworthy, but because you wouldn't put it past them to keep someone back to make sure you don't try to escape.

"Rhys was being difficult earlier about wanting to stay," Leif scoffs, before giving a smile, "I see why now."

"It's important to keep a prisoner's morale in line—lest you want them to fossilize." Rhys dismisses somewhat harshly.

Which you'd take as a betrayal if it weren't for the fact that he would not let up only an hour earlier.

No one can fake that.

—If anything, you respect him for keeping it under wraps. You liked a man who could.

It also helped that he was still soothing your legs.

"Who cares about a prisoner's feelings?" Asch scoffs, "Treat them like the scum they are."

Yeesh.

Eh…you could live with the title of "scum."

"May I remind you that there's still much we need to figure out here. We cannot go hard and fast like the methods your family usually utilizes." Rhys retorts, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah! Treat me with respect!" You add, if only to see his face bloom with anger.

…and it so totally worked.

He's red and everything.

"I'm sure there's a time and place for hard and fast, though, right baby?" Leif chuckles, giving you a wink.

"Real mature, Leif!" Asch shouts, "Rhys, why don't you scold him for flirting with the prisoner! It's unethical."

That's something you can agree with. The amount of corn in his comments should sanctify them as methods of torture.

"I'm not touching that." Rhys gives a bit of a cringed look, shaking his head.

"Oh, real high and mighty, Mr. high and mighty." Leif's tone grows annoyed as well.

"That's not even a good insult."

"You're not even a good insult."

"Both of you are idiots!"

Whatever semblance of peace almost immediately explodes in a three-way argument between the three Daemos surrounding you.

Asch yelling, Rhys 'calmly' scolding him, and Leif going quickly between nonchalance and utter chalance.

Whatever…

As much as the noise annoyed you, you weren't put off by the arguing itself. Why would you pass up the entertainment?

Still, if you're gonna deal with it, you're gonna at least be comfortable.

You adjust yourself to be lying against Rhys now, moving his arm to wrap around you while your head rests on his chest.

He didn't seem to mind—he's probably too busy to notice anyway. You give a small laugh as you survey around again. To Asch's progressively dramatic movements, Leif's clear prodding, Pierce's seemingly undisturbed despite the senseless screaming and—

Noi…peeking out from right behind him. Just staring.

…

At you…? Not at you but...

You.

His eyes seem to trace around your frame before shifting to Rhys with a perturbed brow and what you'd selfishly call disdain clear in his expression.

Oh?

No…it couldn't be. He didn't have an aggressive bone in his body.

He was just being…a weirdo, like always. Probably even just uncomfortable with the yelling.

Pussy.

…

Ugh. You couldn't even insult him without feeling bad.

Boooooo. Day ruined.

Your eyes fall back to everyone else with a sluggish sort of motion, "Can you all just shut uuuuup. I just want to watch Love Island in peace like I was before everyone came and ruined it."

That seems to shut everyone up, surprisingly.

"What is a Love Island?" Asch scoffs.

"You have an Island for Love?" Pierce asks.

"I said the same thing." Rhys pops up, "—it is a program where humans are documented like animals. They come to the island in search of a mate and either get chosen or dumped."

…yeah kind of.

"This sounds stupid—"

"I wanna watch!" Leif jumps over the couch to settle right at your other side, "I'm hoping for violence."

"There's arguing sometimes?" You offer, looking over to him, "But it's much more 'all love' if you get what I mean."

"Oh, that's fine too," He grins, "Maybe we could be all love, as well?"

"You ruined it." You shake your head, turning away.

"Hey! I didn't mean that in any kind of way!" He whines, "You're the dirty-minded one."

"I will watch too!" Asch announces, probably because he doesn't want to be left out.

Off to the side, you can see both Pierce and Noi settle down as well, making it a full house.

Huh...

Well, that's just peachy.

…

In the least sarcastic way you could muster, surprisingly.

It certainly beats being alone. Somewhat beat the sex.

...well...

Okay, joking.

…Yeah…this could actually be kind of nice.

All you were missing was Ava—who you were sure was coming up soon enough.

And in the meantime, they'll be just fine. You're sure they won't be too—

"I don't like the one in grey shorts. He is ugly."

"What are you talking about? He's the only one with a powerful stance—everyone else should cower!"

"I'm booooored. Where's the love at?!"

…annoying.

Guys I am alive!

Sorry this took FIVE-ever, creativity strikes at the worst time (and I've been busy with other stuffs). I am kind of sad that this isn't suuuper F!dom but I've never imagined Rhys being super combative to warrant it :p It is still F!leading so I hope it wasn't too much of a heartbreak!

Don't mind the Noi tease, he won't be the next one (AGAIN) since he already has one! Just keep that thread in mind *wink* -cause his chapter was only like 2k words- HE NEEDS EVEN MORE LOVE!!

I hope this was worth the wait! Please don't let the time between these bother you :( I want to make sure each guy has his time to shine and I don't want to half ass any of their entries !

I'm not a perfectionist, I just want to make decent smut !!! - Hunnithan

Tag list :3 : @vainful-vanity , @midfan2

- if i forgot anyone I am very sorry!!! -

#all of these parts are so fucking funny to me #the way you write them genuinely has me laughing at my phone #i don’t know how to describe it but the pauses and ways you separate paragraphs has the perfect comedic timing like it’s so good #also delicious too but like. that’s a given