#I’m being mean now I truly don’t care
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mommyownsmee · 2 days ago
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About how I learned to love Brats, Pillow Princess behaviour & the Art of Dominance
Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot. Something in the way I think changed.
Every Submissive always talks about being a “good girl”—doing what makes the Dom/me happy, always being obedient and eager to learn. I used to think that is the way it always has to be. Used to. For over ten years as a Domme, I thrived on that concept: A “good girl” has to follow rules and submit without hesitation. For years, I thought that was the pinnacle of submission.
But the thing about power is that it evolves. True power doesn’t stay stagnant—it grows, adapts, and deepens with experience. Over time, I’ve come to realize that submission is more nuanced than a simple checklist of behaviors. It’s raw, alive, and deeply personal. Submission isn’t about perfection. It’s really all about connection.
For years, I believed brattiness in every way always needed to be corrected. To me, it once felt like resistance, a flaw, or a rebellion that threatened the structure of the dynamic. But now, I see it differently. Now, I see it as a form of self-expression. A way for my submissive to show her fire, her confidence, and her trust in me.
Yes, trust. Because it takes trust to push boundaries. It takes trust to tease, to play, and to challenge the person who holds the power. And when my submissive does that—when she smirks and says, “Mommy, I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, aren’t I? Others must have it really hard, not being as perfect as me,” or when she pouts and demands, “Mommy, I want it because I deserve it”—I don’t see rebellion anymore.
I see confidence. I see life. I see a woman who knows her worth and isn’t afraid to own it.
And it’s sexy. Damn sexy.
Bratty behavior doesn’t weaken the dynamic. It strengthens it. It adds layers, complexity, and depth. It turns submission into a dance—a playful, sensual exchange of power where no one is truly in control except for me. And yet, her fire ignites something primal in me. It keeps me sharp, keeps me present, and keeps our connection electric.
Being a Domme for over a decade has taught me that dominance isn’t just about control. It’s about responsibility in a other way than I thought it is. It’s about seeing my submissive for who she is—not just the quiet, obedient girl who kneels perfectly at my feet, but the playful, demanding princess who knows what she deserves and isn’t afraid to say it.
Why should I suppress that part of her? Why should I try to mold her into someone different and docile when her strength and confidence are what make her so captivating?
When she teases me, when she pushes the boundaries, it’s not defiance. It’s trust. She knows I’m strong enough to handle it, to match her energy, to guide her through it without breaking her spirit. That’s the real power of dominance—not in silencing her, but in allowing her to roar, knowing I’ll hold her steady when she’s ready to submit.
That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to put in the effort sometimes. Of course she does. Submission is a two-way street. There are moments when she needs to kneel, to focus, to give herself fully to me. But those moments don’t need to be constant. Submission isn’t about perfection—it’s about authenticity.
Some nights, she doesn't want to exert any strength. She wants to be my Pillow Princess, indulgent and adored. And why shouldn’t she? Why should she always have to work for my approval when my love for her is unconditional?
I’m the Domme. It’s my responsibility to take care of her.
When she looks at me with that confident sparkle in her eyes and says, “Mommy, I deserve to be treated like the princess I am,” not a single muscle in my face flinches—even though my heart skips a beat every time.
“Oh, is that so, my darling?��� I ask, leaning forward, my voice soft but commanding. My thumb brushes over her lower lip, and I lock my gaze on hers. “Then show me how much you deserve it.”
She melts, every time. It’s a game we play, a game of confidence and submission, of power and vulnerability. She knows I’ll always win, but she also knows I love the fire in her eyes when she dares to try.
Her brattiness doesn’t threaten my dominance. It enhances it. It reminds me of why I do this—why I’ve spent over a decade mastering the art of control, not to break someone, but to guide them. To make them feel safe, cherished, and understood.
When I pull her close, kiss her hair, and promise her that she’ll get everything she deserves, it’s not just words. It’s a vow. A vow to build her up, to nurture her, and to remind her every single day that she’s mine.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow, she’ll kneel. Not just because I demand it, but because she craves and wants it. Because submission is her gift to me, and my gift to her is the freedom to express it in all its forms—bratty, playful, vulnerable, and fierce.
That’s the beauty of our dynamic. It’s not rigid or predictable. It’s alive, pulsing with energy, passion, and trust. And as her Domme, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
For me, there’s nothing more intoxicating than that.
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tinaswampdweller · 1 day ago
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I decided to court the King of Curses
Sukuna x Reader
A Short Fluffy Drabble
-Sukuna being a little tsundere and ooc, unedited and a little choppy
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“Flowers? Are you serious?” The pink haired boy said incredulously, eyebrow cocked in a judging manner.
“Yes, flowers, Yuji. They’re for him, obviously.” Comes my snappy reply as I fiddle with the flowers, adjusting the arrangement.
Yuji shakes his head in disbelief, an exasperated look present on his face.
“Knowing him, he’ll probably tear them apart. With his teeth. Definitely with his teeth.” He says with an assured nod. I frown at his assumption.
“Well, I don’t care. It’s the thought that counts. Now shut up and switch with him for a minute!” I gesture wildly with my hand. Yuji’s mouth dropped, his offended expression almost caused me to snort.
“You’re seriously a piece of work, is that why you begged me to come over? To see your freak of a crush? Is this gonna be an everyday thing now?” I rolled my eyes at him, shoulders slumped as he continued to lecture me.
“Well, yes. Now hurry! Switch! I’ll keep my seal on you so he shouldn’t be able to move around too much.” I sit up quickly, excitedly clapping my hands together.
Yuji huffed, eyes rolling in annoyance before succumbing to my request. There’s a noticeable beat of silence, the air in my room gradually becoming colder and electric. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck raise.
“You’ve got it bad, kid. But I already told you I don’t fuck sorcerers and I definitely don’t fuck girls like you.” Came his gravelly voice, juxtaposed by Yuji’s sweet and youthful face. A face that was now sporting narrowed, empty eyes, a truly unreadable expression present on his face.
I huffed at his words, a sharp pout forming in my face. I placed my hands on my hips.
“Girls like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” I yelled, offended by his insinuation.
“I’m smart. I’m pretty. I’m a really good catch actually.” I continue, puffing my chest out proudly.
“It’s a little desperate don’t you think, trying to coax me out with flowers, dressing in clothes you think will catch my eye. It’s not gonna save you, or the kid. Just will make the deaths more satisfying actually.” Sukuna retorted dryly with a disapproving look bordering on judgemental.
“Well, until then. You and I are gonna enjoy our little five minute dates together each day.” Ignoring his attempt at hurting my feelings, I grab the previously dropped bouquet from the bed and hold them out in front of him. A cheery smile stretched on my face.
“Anyways here’s your flowers, and I brought something for you to eat. Don’t get the wrong idea, it’s just pig meat, but it’s apparently the closest thing to what you’re into.” I explained in a matter of factly manner.
“Acting like a wife when I haven’t even given you a ring yet.”
I inhaled sharply, eyes peeled in shock.
“…”
“Don’t-” he started with a glare.
“Yet! You said yet right? Oh my god, Yuji he said yet! Oh my god, oh my god! Thank you lord!” I gushed out excitedly. My hands were clasped together and raised high to ceiling. Before he could backtrack, the words had already penetrated my ears and now my heart. ‘If only Yuji was here maybe I could fangirl with him, though realistically he wouldn’t care.’ I was starry eyed and bouncing giddily on the bed.
“I’m not marrying an annoying girl like you, rather live in this brat forever than bound myself to you.” Snapped the curse angrily, his glare penetrating deeply into my form as he watched my antics.
“Your brain says that but your heart says what it feels without thinking. Don’t be coy with me, I’m basically the king of curses’ fiancé. What would Gojo think?” I question with a thoughtful look.
“It doesn’t matter what that incompetent twit thinks. He’s the last person I’d look to for approval..”
“Well, anyways, my mother’s really kind, she’d approve no matter what.” I change the subject immediately, picturing my lawyer mother who was always smiling at anyone even if they were terrible criminals. There was no doubt in my mind that she would have no problem with Sukuna.
“A family of people pleasers, my heir will truly be the weakest link.”
“Did you just-”
“Don’t.”
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idkanymark · 3 days ago
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[Nothing can k*ll me like you do]
haechan x f!reader | jisung x f!reader | toxic relationships
INTRO: There are people who break you without ever laying a hand on you, people whose words and presence twist your heart until it bleeds, even when you try to run away. You were never supposed to go back, never supposed to fall for the same poison twice. But here you are, tangled in the same web, with no escape in sight.
Haechan was the first. The one who taught you that love can feel like a cage, no matter how sweet the promises. He pulled you in with a smile, and you thought you were strong enough to break free. You were wrong.
Then came Jisung, the calm after the storm. Or at least, that’s how he seemed—until the storm came back, and you couldn’t outrun it.
You promised yourself you wouldn’t fall again, but some promises were always meant to be broken. And now, you're struck between two men, both of whom have a hold on you jn ways you can’t explain.
Maybe it’s true what they say: nothing can kill me like you do.
warnings. toxic relationship, abus*d mentioned
Words count: 4.1k
Playlist:
Poison by Rita Ora
Back to you by Selena Gomez
Two years Rosé
-------------
<<I’m going to Japan for a while, you know what that means, right sweetheart?>>
His words were velvet laced with steel, soft but cutting. Sweetheart. The way he said it made your stomach churn—it was a nickname meant to tether you, not out of love, but control. He left. Of course, he left again.
He’s situationship!Haechan. The boy who couldn’t commit to you but refused to let you go. His hold on you was invisible but unshakable, like chains made of smoke. Every time he walked out, you told yourself it would be the last. And every time, you found yourself waiting for the sound of his footsteps coming back.
He had too many things to do—things infinitely more important than you. You were the only thing he could throw away, the only thing in his life without permanence. You were the disposable piece in his perfectly chaotic puzzle, the one thing that could be picked up and put down without consequence. You should’ve known better by now. You don’t even understand why it still caught you off guard, why the ache in your chest always felt new.
You felt alone. You always felt alone.
But somehow, you couldn’t stay away from him. It didn’t matter how much it hurt when he left or how hollow his affection felt when he was near. You always went back. Because he was the first person you ever loved.
Love.
Who knows if he even understood what love truly meant? Every time he said the words—I love you—you wanted so badly to believe them. For two years, you clung to those words like a lifeline, even when they felt like poison, pouring from his mouth and seeping into your veins.
Sweet poison. The kind that numbed the pain just enough to keep you craving more. You held onto those words, even as they left scars you couldn’t hide—a sweet, addictive toxin that took root in your heart and made you crave him, even when you knew he was no good for you.
Poison. That’s what his love was.
You hated yourself for it, for being so weak, for letting him have this much power over you. But no matter how far you tried to run from him—physically, emotionally—you always found your way back. He was a magnet, pulling you into his orbit no matter how much it hurt to stay there.
And yet, here you were. Waiting.
The tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t let them fall. Crying wouldn’t change anything; it never did.
You knew he’d come back. He always did. But not because he cared—not the way you wanted him to. He’d come back because he needed something from you. Comfort. Validation. A break from the chaos of his life.
And you’d give it to him, wouldn’t you?
Because, deep down, you still loved him.
He wasn’t your safe place—he was the fire you couldn’t stop running into, the storm you willingly stood in. You loved him with a desperation that bordered on self-destruction. And he knew it.
Haechan always knew how to keep you tethered, dangling just close enough to feel wanted but never enough to feel whole. He fed you scraps of affection, just enough to keep you addicted. You told yourself it wasn’t love—that love couldn’t possibly hurt this much—but it was the only word you knew to describe what you felt.
And maybe that’s why you let him leave so easily every time. Because deep down, you knew he’d come back. He couldn’t stay away, just like you couldn’t let him go.
It was a vicious cycle. One neither of you knew how to break.
<<Fuck>>
You muttered under your breath, glaring at the vending machine as it refused to cooperate. Of all days, it had to choose today to malfunction—the one day you desperately needed your banana milk fix to soothe the chaos in your mind.
The machine beeped mockingly, but no drink emerged. You hit the side of it lightly, more out of frustration than hope.
<<Here, I bought extras. You can have one.>>
Startled, you turned to see a boy holding out a bottle of banana milk. He looked a little shy, his eyes warm and gentle, like the kind of guy who’d lend a hand without a second thought. He was tall, with soft features that made him seem approachable, almost boyish.
<<Oh, uhm, thanks.>>
Normally, you wouldn’t take a random offering from a stranger. But today wasn’t normal. Today was heavy, suffocating—the day Haechan was leaving. The thought churned in your stomach, adding to the weight pressing on your chest. Against your better judgment, you reached out and took the bottle.
<<Can I ask for your name?>> he asked hesitantly, almost like he wasn’t sure he should. His voice was soft, unassuming.
<<Y/N. Third year of business>> you replied, still holding the bottle, unsure why you hadn’t walked away yet.
His lips curled into a small, nervous smile. <<Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Park Jisung. I’m in my second year of business >>
You nodded, offering a faint, polite smile in return. The exchange felt oddly significant, though you couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was because someone, even a stranger, had cared enough to notice you on a day when you felt invisible—when your mind was consumed with the thought of Haechan’s departure.
If someone had told you in that moment that Park Jisung would become a part of your life, you would’ve laughed it off. And if they’d told you that this seemingly kind boy would lead you into a relationship even more toxic than the one you were trying to escape, you wouldn’t have believed them.
But life has a funny way of surprising you—twisting kindness into something cruel, turning strangers into bittersweet memories.
You didn’t know it yet, but meeting Jisung was just the beginning of a new kind of chaos, a storm that would take you in its grip before you even realized you were caught.
For now, though, all you saw was a quiet boy offering you a simple act of kindness. And for a fleeting moment, you let yourself think it meant something more.
---
Months had passed, and your relationship with Jisung was... different. Amazing, even. He was the sweetest guy you had ever been with, and he treated you like you desperately wanted to be treated. For once, you felt seen—truly seen. In his eyes, you were more than just someone to keep around when it was convenient. You were his girlfriend. And despite how new this whole "girlfriend" situation was to you, Jisung was patient. He understood the struggle you faced in unlearning toxic patterns and figuring out what it meant to be loved in a healthy way. He taught you, slowly but surely, that love could be soft, steady, and unconditional.
The first time you met his friends, the "Dreamies", you were a little hesitant. You had always been so focused on your own little world—Haechan's world—that you didn't really care about anyone else. But Jisung made you feel welcome. His friends were fun, quirky, and much more laid-back than you expected. They were popular on campus, but they didn’t care about that; they were just a close-knit group, full of laughter and inside jokes. You didn’t know much about them at first, but as you got to know them, you realized how genuine and kind they all were, each one different from the people you’d once surrounded yourself with.
The best part was that Jisung made you feel like you belonged. He was always there, offering you support in ways you didn’t even know you needed. Whether it was a simple touch on your back when you were stressed or a shared quiet moment on the couch, he made you feel like you were finally safe. The cage you had been living in, built by your past with Haechan, was slowly breaking apart, piece by piece.
But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Haechan always came back.
And when he did, it was just as chaotic as you had imagined.
You were walking toward Jisung, your thoughts occupied with the quiet comfort he always provided. The warmth of his presence, the ease with which he made you feel safe—everything about him was different from the chaos you had known with Haechan.
It started with a voice. A familiar one that made you freeze in your tracks. That voice, sharp and mocking, sliced through the air like a knife.
<<So you get behind my back as a revenge, sweetheart?>>
You froze in your tracks. Your heart skipped, and your breath caught in your throat. There he was. Haechan.
You hadn’t seen him in months, but the moment he spoke, it was as though time had rewound. All the walls you’d carefully built around your heart started to crumble. You didn’t even want to turn around, but your body betrayed you, forcing you to meet his gaze.
You tried to walk past him, to keep going toward Jisung, but Haechan’s presence was a force you couldn’t easily ignore. His eyes—dark, possessive, as always—locked onto you. You felt them like a weight, pressing down, pulling at your resolve.
Haechan wasn’t good at letting go. You knew that. It had always been this way with him—he’d leave, then return, as if you were something he could come back to when it suited him. And, despite everything, you knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to claim what he thought was his.
But this time, you weren’t the same person. Or, at least, you weren’t supposed to be.
You tried to ignore him but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist with a grip that felt like it could break you.
<<You really decided to choose the easiest target in my friend group?>> Haechan’s voice was cold, sharp. His eyes flicked to Jisung, who was sitting nearby. You could feel the resentment rolling off of him as he looked at your boyfriend. Haechan didn’t like seeing you with someone else. And he sure as hell didn’t like seeing you move on.
<<Haechan, please... let go of me>> you whispered, trying to gently pull away, but his grip was unyielding.
That’s when Jisung’s calm voice reached you, clear and firm.
<<Is there a problem?>>
The moment Jisung spoke, the air shifted. Haechan’s gaze snapped over to him, his expression hardening. There was a brief, tense silence before Haechan finally let go, though not without giving you one last, lingering look. It was the same look you’d seen so many times before—the look that had once pulled you back, the look full of promises, both spoken and unspoken.
You could feel your heart race, the tightness in your chest from the weight of that look. But you didn’t let it consume you. Instead, you moved closer to Jisung, letting your fingers brush against his. The simple contact grounded you, reminded you that this was your choice now.
<<No, baby>> you whispered, glancing up at Jisung. The warmth in his eyes made you feel safe, secure. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was here to protect you, to keep you safe from the past that was still trying to pull you back in.
Haechan scoffed, his voice dripping with bitterness. <<He’s your boyfriend, but you’re still the same, Y/N. You always will be>>
Jisung didn’t flinch. His gaze never left you. He didn’t even spare Haechan a second glance. His attention was completely on you—on the subtle way you tensed in his presence, on the slight tremble in your hand as you reached out for his. He could see it. He could see the way Haechan still had a hold on you, how you were still torn between two worlds.
His hand moved to the small of your back, a soft but firm gesture, as though silently reminding you that you were safe with him—that you didn’t have to go back to what was broken.
But you knew the truth. This wasn’t just about a confrontation between two people. It was about the scars Haechan had left, the damage that still lingered in your chest. And the more you stood there with Jisung by your side, the more you realized that the past had to stay there, in the past, where it belonged.
You weren’t that person anymore. You wouldn’t let him pull you back in.
As Jisung stood next to you, calm but with a tension in his body that mirrored your own, you could feel the weight of Haechan’s gaze on you, still trying to pull you into his web. But you refused. This time, you wouldn’t let him have that power over you.
Jisung, though, knew. He understood that Haechan wasn’t just someone from your past—he was a shadow that threatened to swallow your future if you weren’t careful. And for the first time, Jisung wasn’t just concerned with losing you to someone else. He was afraid that you might lose yourself to the past, to a version of you that was twisted by love and manipulation.
He could see the way you glanced back toward Haechan, the tension that still gripped your shoulders. But Jisung wasn’t going to let you slip away.
And as the moments stretched out, the realization began to settle in. Haechan wasn’t just a man from your past—he was the past you needed to let go of, if you wanted any chance at healing. Jisung—your present—was the one who could help you rebuild. Even if it meant fighting against everything that had torn you down before.
Or at least, Jisung thought he was your person, he desperately wanted to be your person.
----
From that day on, it was a constant back-and-forth between the three of you. Haechan always found a way to come back, to reclaim what he thought was his, pulling you back into his web like the pied piper leading you toward destruction. And Jisung, who once seemed like the sweetest guy next door, slowly began to change. You knew, deep down, it was your fault.
The way you kept going back to Haechan, even after you promised yourself—and Jisung—that you wouldn’t, creating cracks in the foundation of whatever you and Jisung had built. At first, he was understanding, and patient. He listened when you cried, waited when you pulled away, and forgave when you stumbled. But even the kindest hearts have limits.
Jisung began to harden. His quiet warmth turned cold, his gentle touches grew tense, and the boy who once gave you banana milk with a shy smile now gave you silence laced with resentment. The cracks became fissures, and soon enough, he wasn’t the same boy you’d met that day by the vending machine.
It all came to a head the day Jisung decided to marry you.
He thought that maybe, just maybe, a ring on your finger would make you stop running back to Haechan. That it would anchor you to him, tie you to a promise you couldn’t break. He wanted to believe that he was enough to make you stay.
But it didn’t, it only made things worse. The weight of his expectations, his growing frustration, and your inability to let go of Haechan created a storm neither of you could escape. The once-soft love he offered became sharp, laced with bitterness and possessiveness. He didn’t trust you anymore, and you didn’t blame him.
You tried to love him the way he deserved, but your heart was fractured, pieces of it still caught in Haechan’s grasp. And every time you faltered, Jisung sank deeper into the toxicity that had become your relationship.
<<Do you really want to marry him?>> Haechan’s voice echoed in your mind, cutting through the haze of your thoughts.
<<Haechan, please... I can’t do this anymore>> You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, even though you knew better than to cry in front of him.
<<So, to get over me, you want to marry him?>> He said it like he didn’t understand, but you knew better. He knew exactly how this would play out. He always did. He reached out, fingers threading through your hair with a tenderness that felt too familiar.
<<I would do anything and everything to get over you>> you whispered, your voice breaking as the weight of your own words hit you.
<<Oh, sweetheart>> Haechan’s voice softened with a mocking sadness. <<You need someone twisted to keep you. Otherwise, you'll run away>>
And he was right.
Jisung had begun to change in ways you hadn’t expected. He saw the way you still let Haechan worm his way into your heart. He saw you pulling away from him, always reaching for someone who didn’t want you the same way he did. So Jisung did the only thing he knew—he twisted himself.
You turned the nicest guy into the most toxic one. He started to become possessive, and distant. His eyes, once soft and full of warmth, began to harden. His affection turned into control, his care became an obsession. The jealousy that simmered in his chest boiled over, turning him into someone you barely recognized. It started slowly, with small comments, things that made you feel suffocated.
But soon, it wasn’t just the words. It was his actions. The way he gripped your wrist too tightly when you tried to walk away, the way he would get angry when you spoke to anyone else, even a passing acquaintance, the way his fingers tightened when you reached for your phone. The kindness that had once radiated from him was replaced with a jealousy that had festered too long. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you anymore, but in the way he treated you—rough, sharp, demanding.
In bed or out of it, Jisung wasn’t the same boy who had once shyly offered you a drink. He was someone darker, more dangerous, someone who wanted control over every inch of you. Every time you tried to pull away, he pulled you back harder. Every time you tried to breathe, he smothered you with his need to possess you.
And yet, somehow, you stayed.
The ring hadn’t fixed anything. If anything, it made it worse. The more Jisung tried to tether you to him, the more you realized that the chains you’d placed on your heart were only growing tighter. You couldn’t escape. And you didn’t want to. Not really.
The cycle of toxicity had been set in motion the moment you let Haechan go and let Jisung in. But it wasn’t really about Jisung or Haechan anymore. It was about you. The choices you made, the heart you couldn’t let go of. You couldn’t fix them, and they couldn’t fix you.
And now, the pieces were shattered beyond repair.
-----
-----
[IN CASE YOU WANT A DIFFERENT ENDING:
The night before the wedding.
You stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of the woman who had been torn apart by promises and lies. The wedding dress hung in front of you, a symbol of everything you thought you wanted, everything you thought would fix what had been broken. But in your heart, you knew nothing could fix this.
Not the wedding. Not the baby. Not Jisung’s unyielding belief that he was the father, or Haechan’s constant reminders that you were his. They had both clawed their way into your life, suffocating you with their demands, with their manipulations, until you couldn’t breathe without feeling guilty, without feeling like you were trapped between two worlds.
You had promised yourself you'd break free. But every time you tried, you ended up right back where you started—tangled in their webs, suffocating under the weight of their expectations. And now, with a baby growing inside you, everything was more complicated. You didn't even know who the father was, but both Jisung and Haechan had claimed it as their own, their constant pestering and demands driving you even further into a cage of their making.
Jisung’s patience had worn thin. He was convinced, as always, that marrying him would fix everything, that you would be his anchor, that you would finally be the person he always wanted you to be. He didn't care that you were fractured, broken in ways he couldn't understand. He just wanted the life he had imagined, the life where everything was perfect, where you were perfect.
And Haechan—he never stopped. His presence, his possessiveness, his constant belief that you were his, that you belonged to him, had wrapped around you like a vine, pulling you back every time you tried to escape. The way he always knew exactly what to say to make you question yourself, to make you second-guess the path you were on. The way he would remind you that you would never be free from him, no matter how hard you tried.
But tonight, in the silence of your room, as you stared at your reflection, you realized something: you had been living in their shadows for too long. You had let them decide your worth. You had let them determine your happiness. You had let them shape your future, and now, you couldn’t even remember who you were before they found you.
Jisung still believed it was his child. Haechan still believed it was his. And you? You didn’t even know. You didn’t know who the father was, but you knew this life wasn’t yours anymore. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. You couldn’t keep pretending that this marriage, this baby, this life was what you had wanted.
A knock at the door.
You knew it was Jisung. He’d been waiting for you, just outside, desperate for you to come to him. But you couldn’t. Not like this. Not anymore.
With a shaky breath, you grabbed your phone and texted him: I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.
The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over as you stood up and grabbed your bag. The weight of the life you had built with Jisung—now a lie—pressed down on you. The weight of the past with Haechan, now tangled into your every decision, made your chest feel like it was caving in. You had let them both control your life, and now you needed to break free.
You called an Uber, as your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to piece your life back together. But you knew this was the only choice left.
As the car pulled away from the apartment, you stared out the window, your heart aching. You couldn’t fix everything. You couldn’t undo the damage that had been done. But you could leave. You could finally choose yourself.
The baby inside you was a constant reminder of the mess you had made, but it wasn’t going to be your cage anymore. You didn’t know who the father was, and maybe it didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that you were choosing your freedom, your future, even if it was terrifying, even if you didn’t have all the answers.
When the car stopped, you paid the driver and stepped out onto the unfamiliar street. The world felt too big, too overwhelming, but for the first time in years, you felt a sliver of peace.
You weren’t sure what the future held. You weren’t sure how everything would turn out. But for once, you were free.
And that was all you needed.
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whoblewboobear · 8 months ago
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If you’re sad the pcs are winning against the bbeg why tf are you even watching an actual play show at all? Do you play dnd irl and let your friends do all the combat instead? Like I’m sorry that villains die in dnd. Get a grip, good god. Some of yall are so fucking weird.
“This episode was bad because the villains the main characters were set up to have a conflict with all season are getting their ass beat despite fucking over the main characters all season”
MAKE IT. 👏 MAKE SENSE. 👏
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softestepilogue · 1 year ago
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full offense but fandoms are unbearable because y’all are unlikable. y’all are so weird and i will die on that hill.
this is like the third time i’ve been in a fandom where a white male SIDE character is heavily favored by the fandom and they start jumping through hoops, and grabbing reasons out their asses, to prove why the main poc character is a terrible person. they will also ignore any wrongdoing of the side white male character.
it’s so fucking weird and exhausting.
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wildevenusian · 2 days ago
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kavehater · 4 months ago
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People for some reason always like to tell me that it’s nobody’s responsibility to “save me” which is so fucking stupid to tell me because where have I ever implied that ?! It’s so unfair to hear that because clearly you don’t know shit abt me if you say that. But why am I the only one who gets to hear that ?! Maybe for once I’d like to be saved maybe it’s not a sin to want that, and I think that it is peoples responsibilities to do better but no. The reason it doesn’t happen is because I’m simply not worth it.
#dora daily#I’m overstimulated every day now#death is a far simpler fate than dealing with this#I’m what people would call useless. I don’t understand why I need a use and why anyone needs a use#but I digress#my head is either about to explode on its own or I’ll bash it on the wall on my own accord#nfieeowlskslalak#the day I find peace is the day my existence is erased and my mum never had me#this is why abortions need to remain legal I don’t consent to this shitty existence thanks and no I have to deal with the consequences#now*#the classic rhetoric people like to spew ‘oh ur parents ur mother how would they react’ ‘ur friends etc what about them?!’#I’m proud to say I’m so useless that I make no splash in anyone’s life and frankly I would be replaced (and am already being replaced)#instantly. I wish a lot of things but one thing I’ve wished since as long as I can remember is to not be dispensable. yet life has a way of#working through means to spite me and make me suffer#I am dispensable to everyone. to everyone on here and to everyone irl. why I’ll never truly understand. maybe because the things I talk#about are annoying and my service personality is replaceable with others and my real personality idek what that is but I bet it sucks#I am replaceable to even dahlia so like#what do I do now ?#I wish krilling urself was halal#but since when did I care for halal and haram anyways I can’t even pray properly anymore#I give up.#I have no hope for the future. I should’ve went through with kms at eighteen a few days shy of nineteen#I should’ve overdosed that one time I was planning to I should’ve went through with it#I’m so fucking stupid
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madaqueue · 1 month ago
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EPISODE 3: A TASTE OF HONEY IN DEFEAT
satoru thought he would have no problem winning a bet he proposed, but a month is too long to go without a taste of anything this sweet.
themes/content: smut. edging, handjobs, mean-ish dom!reader, satoru being whiney lmao, premature ejaculation + he cums inside, light bondage (satoru receiving). (wk: 2.1k)
a/n: this is part of @luv-lies no-nut-november collab!!! so excited to have been a part of this, hope you all enjoy >:3
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“You know I trust you, but don’t you think the ropes are a bit much?” Satoru giggles as you tighten the final knot around his wrists, shoulders bulging and arms stretched overhead.
“I know you trust me - it’s you I’m worried about, ‘Toru.”
“What, worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you?” The smirk painting his features veers into a grimace as he winces, straining against the tightening rope.
“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep your hands off yourself.”
Pink lips draw into a pout. “Aw c’mon, you know I’ll be good! I’m the one who made this bet in the first place, remember?”
You hum as you tug his hands down, testing the strength of the woven cerulean adorning his skin. The headboard shakes with the movement.
“And yet, you were so willing to break the rules.”
It had been quite a sight, truly - your dear Satoru, splayed across the bed, whimpers and moans falling from his lips like honeyed rain. They landed heavy in your ears, sticky and sweet. When the door creaked open, he made no effort to stop the fervent motions of his fist up and down his cock. He was flushed from head to toe, too lost in his own pleasure to recognize the sound of your footsteps approaching. It was only when your hand rested atop his that he jerked up, clouded eyes turning apologetic.
“I know I wasn’t supposed to, I know, I just couldn’t wait-” he had babbled.
“It’s okay,” you purred, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But you knew the deal, remember? I’m the only one allowed to touch you this month, right, Satoru?”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry-”
“And how close you were to cumming, too.”
“I wasn’t going to, I swear-”
You hummed and squeezed his base, earning a gasp. “You know it’s not good to lie, either. Remember, you made this bet, sweetheart. Were you really so willing to throw it all away? To lose?”
“I wasn’t going to lose, I promise, I just needed something-”
He was getting worked up, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He braced on his forearms to sit up, but with a purposeful push you guided him back onto the sheets.
“It’s okay, my love. If my poor baby is so needy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you something.”
His eyes widened when you pulled the ropes from under the bed, eyeing him like your next meal, a starving predator ready to pounce. And here was your prey, so ready for the taking, offering himself to you as a good piece of meat should.
And now, he’s tied up like one, too.
“I wasn’t even going to break the rules,” he whines impatiently.
Sitting back, you admire your work: your strong, determined Satoru spread and waiting. Trailing a finger down his stomach, his skin burns hot in its wake.
“That’s certainly not what it looked like to me.”
“I-”
“Because to me, it looked like you couldn’t handle going even a month without touching this needy little cock of yours.”
He pouts. “I’m not little,” he huffs.
A giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, bouncing past your lips.
“And besides, I can handle it, I swear! I made it almost the whole month, I did, I just-”
Tilting your head, you gaze down at him. “What, got too desperate? Poor Satoru, ‘The Strongest,’ couldn’t even follow the rules of a bet he made?”
Blue flashes against white as he rolls his eyes. One hand ruffles his hair, cooing down at him.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ll make you beg to break this silly little bet of yours.”
“Whatever,” he scoffs, hiding the way pink creeps up his neck and decorates his cheeks, stained like flower petals. He’s soft like them, too.
A light chuckle lands in the air when your palm grazes up his length. He twitches in your hold, warm skin on warm skin.
“H-hah, see?” His mouth hangs open between the words. “Told you I could handle it.”
It’s gentle touches at first, to ease him into it: slow strokes, light fingers. And yet, he’s still wrapping his throat around whimpers.
“Aw baby, I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Your lips curl into a smile, breath hot behind them. The words come out syrupy, dripping in sugar (and Satoru has always had a sweet tooth). His stomach aches in hunger - hunger for your hands, your body, your control. Whatever you plan to do to him, he’ll swallow it whole, bigger and bigger bites until his cheeks swell and all he can taste is you.
The grip around his base tightens, running up and down. Something about your skin is so much softer than his, untainted by the cruelty he lives through, only dirtied by desire. It spreads over his skin, glistening white and sticky.
When whines begin to twist through the silence, his eyelashes fluttering to bat away the impending tears, he doesn’t have to say it - he’s close.
Just as his muscles begin to tense, you rip your hand away.
There’s a choked little cry he lets out, hurt like an animal you spared from death. One that was ready for it, for the warmth and comfort it provided.
“Why’d you stop?” His voice is strained already, a high-pitched draw across his vocal cords. His eyes are sparkling and wet.
A peck to his cheek sends shivers down his spine. “Because you’re not supposed to finish, remember, silly? I’m just helping you hold up your end of the bet, after all.”
A sound like untuned violins, haunting and beautiful all the same, plays from his throat. You giggle at the music.
“C’mon, Toru - you wanted this, remember?”
“I know,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose. “Fine, fine, do whatever you want.”
You smile.
(You would have anyways)
Your gaze falls upon the aquamarine rope, the matching eyes, before trailing back down his steadying chest.
It stutters when your fingers trace up the veins of his cock.
It heaves when you cup a palm around his balls.
You squeeze.
“F-fuck,” he groans, hips lifting off the bed.
There’s a word living at the tip of his tongue, its shape burning into his mouth.
Harder.
Luckily, you know your Satoru - you know what he thinks, feels, wants. And as a lover should, you happily oblige.
The sound he makes is garbled and choked, utter nonsense. It came straight from the depths of his body, a pure animalistic response, one he couldn’t have controlled if he tried.
Already, he’s beginning to tremble in your palm - it’s getting easier to do this, make him shake like a lost leaf floating through the autumn air, held captive by the gusts of your wind. Up and down, he travels with you, because of you.
Again, you pull your hand away.
Again, he whines.
“Noooo,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. It was automatic, the expression of displeasure, ripped from him with the loss of your warmth on his.
“What’s wrong baby? You want me to stop?” It’s more fun when he has an out, when he could say no and chooses not to. When he wants this just as badly as you. “You know you-”
“No.” It's more breath than sound. “No, please. Keep going.”
And as a lover should, you happily oblige.
Precum drips down his length, covering him in remnants of desire. They cling to his skin like silky webs, woven from devotion and need. Each slick pump of your hand up and down creates more and more and more, a beautiful pearl at his slit forming one moment only to be spread by your circling thumb in the next.
Each time you reach his base, you squeeze. Each time you reach his tip, you twist. In this dance you both twirl and breathe and feel in beat, holding on to one another with sweaty hands and tired muscles.
“Remember, you can give up whenever you want,” you coo, the sweet glue of a trap.
But Satoru doesn’t dare taste, doesn’t dare step inside - he knows better.
(Right?)
“I’m not - fuck - giving up.” He tries to throw you a smile, but it lands at your feet.
Fists clench into each other, nails digging into his palms. You almost feel bad, the way he’s beginning to writhe within the ropes. It must hurt, you think, the texture soft but never soft enough - it’s nothing compared to you. In spite of his anguish, he knows better than to give up this easily. You haven’t even really begun, not yet.
When his eyelashes flutter closed, you know to pull your hand away.
He’s getting more subtle, the only sign of his impending pleasure a soft flicker of white and blue. But you recognize it, of course - his pleasure lives everywhere in him. In the way his breath catches, in the way his skin burns hot, in the way he gets all too loud or all too quiet.
There’s barely a sound this time. Instead, he just frowns, displeasure spreading across his sweet features. His lower lip sticks out, and he stares at you with cloudy eyes.
“I know, baby, I know. But this is what it takes if you want to win.”
The words don’t ease the growing ache in his core, but your voice does. Every vowel blurs the pain, every consonant gives him something to cling to. He’ll climb himself out of insanity on your breath.
Again, you wrap around him and drag him closer to the edge. Unable to pull his gaze away, he stares down it, looming, waiting. The free fall must feel nice, the wind against his skin, for a moment before he hits the ground. But with a firm hand on the back of his head, you just hold him there. It’ll be his choice whether he decides to jump. Or rather, when he decides to jump.
Another choked groan leaks from his lips when you pause. There are no words left for him to say, nothing but the agony of desire. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it’ll make the leap any less tempting.
Hushed whispers, not quite praise, tingle his mind. Little hums of “I know,” or “there, there,” dance from your throat, and he writhes.
Distress always looked so pretty on him. Pretty tears, pretty red cheeks, pretty pouts and pretty cries. Perhaps it’s a curse that he looks like a fallen angel when he weeps - if he looked more grotesque, you wouldn’t feel the urge to bring him back into the jaws of pain.
But he lets you comfort him nonetheless, preen his wings and kiss his tears.
This time, when you stop, he thrashes. His skin burns, crisp like it had been warmed by the sun for too long. Everything is too tight, his hands, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach. They need to be loosened; they need to be released.
“Please.”
It’s so quiet, it’s almost not a word, just little sounds from his tongue.
“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Tears stream from glossy eyes when he looks at you. His lips quiver as he speaks.
“Please, I wanna cum. Please.”
The smile spreading across your face is cold and knowing; he looks beautiful as he falls.
“I know you want to, but-”
“I lose.” He’s panting, gasping through the plea. “I lose, I give up, I don’t care, just, please.”
Hot tears melt beneath your thumb as you swipe them away. His mouth hangs open, as though he could swallow the air, hold it inside him and let that ease the aching. But the only thing that can help him now is you, the only thing he can stomach.
“Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
A loose smile flows across his face, easy like gentle waves lapping at the corners of his thoughts. The sentence itself barely makes sense to him at this point, garbled in his lust-clouded mind. But he knows you’ll help him now; he welcomes the push over the edge.
Straddling his lap, you guide him to your entrance. Sticky and hot, he presses into you. Just as his tip enters your warmth, he hurls himself into the wind.
Everything in his body trembles, muscles tightening and contracting out of time. Eyelashes flutter, whimpers dance like petals as he comes undone.
The only thing he can do is twitch inside of you, pearly strings pulsing with each erratic breath.
Finally, he opens his eyes to find you smiling. Warm lips press along his cheeks, dried tears salty on your tongue.
“Well, you certainly lost this time,” you hum, resting your forehead against his; he looks at you like you created the earth itself, your breath in the wind and your heartbeat in the sun. “But there’s always next year, right?”
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opalici0us · 11 months ago
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I Dare You || Ryomen Sukuna
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| pairings- Sukuna x fem!reader
synopsis- Two weeks of no sex is too much for poor Sukuna.
content- 18+ MNDI, smut, mean Sukuna, unrealistic car sex (classic handprint), unprotected sex, p in v, MAKEUP SEX, Sukuna is a bit rough, spit, soft Sukuna at the end, fingering, pet names (babe, pretty, my girl), established relationship
wc-2.1k
a/n: I am a whore for Sukuna :(((
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Sukuna knew you were stubborn when you first started dating. You hated backing down and always had to have the last word. Sukuna thought it was hot for the most part until you guys got into a fight that has lasted almost two weeks. Two weeks of sleeping on the couch in your shared home, two weeks of non-stop belittling and snarky comments, and most importantly two weeks of no sex. 
To many people, Sukuna's desperation sounded ridiculous but they didn’t get it. You two were extremely sexually active, almost fucking every day. Sukuna felt like he was going crazy, not only was he pissed and hurt but he was extremely horny. No amount of jerking off and porn can live up to your warm n’ tight little cunt. 
When he’d see you in nothing but one of his t-shirts, or those cute sundresses he bought you, and especially those damn short skirts, he wanted nothing more than just to back down and apologize first so he could be balls deep inside you. It wasn’t that easy. Anytime he’d try you’d stop him. 
“What are you doing…?” You immediately paused as you felt Sukuna wrap his arms around your waist, not even trying to be subtle about the massive problem currently pressed right against you. You felt him grind his massive erection right against you, a low not-so-subtle grunt escaping from his throat.
 “Nothin’, you just look so fuckin’ sexy in this dress. This is the one I got ya’, right?” He whispered right against your ear, making chills go up your spine. It took everything in your body not to give in to him. His tongue ventured out, licking the lobe of your ear. A soft puff of frustration left your lips.
 “You gonna apologize, hmm?” Your tone was fiery as ever. Sukuna stopped his tormenting and rolled his eyes. “Now go away, I’m trying to do the dishes.” You ripped his arms off of you. Trying your best to ignore the arousal pooling in your panties. 
“God, you’re so stubborn, I don’t even know what I have to apologize for! I’ll just go fuck myself then!” Sukuna spat and stormed off to the bathroom, making sure to slam the door behind him, rattling the house. 
Rolling your eyes at him, really wishing he was making your eyes roll back from his cock. You went back to your original task. As you were finally back in the zone with no thoughts in mind, loud groans could be heard…coming from the bathroom.
You drop the plate you were washing back into the sink. As if your feet had a mind of their own, you made your way to the bathroom, placing your ear against the cold door. “Mmm fuuuck, just like Y/N, wanna make a mess on your face.” You heard your boyfriend's muffled groans, the bastard was doing it on purpose. 
You scoff silently, as much as you wanted to ignore him but you couldn’t ignore the heartbeat felt down there. Sighing in frustration, you squeeze your thighs together to bring some relief to your poor untouched clit. Sukuna continued his sultry groans, babbling out “Lemme fill you up baby.” and “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”
Of course, when he came out he had that damn smirk on his face. The kind you wanted to slap off his face, Sukuna was truly going to drive you insane.
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The two of you were currently standing inside Yuuji's place for a housewarming party. The smell of cheap liquor and weed filled the air, the scent mixed was almost sickening. Though you and Sukuna couldn’t bother to care. 
“We are not doing this here, Sukuna.” You spat at him. It was barely 10 minutes of being here and you and Sukuna were already fighting in the corner of the living room. His large frame, cornering you against the wall. 
“Doing what Y/N?” He spoke sarcastically, a smirk etched onto his lips.
 “I mean it, I refuse to fight with you in front of your brother and his friends.” You tried to move but he leaned in, successfully trapping you. 
“I’m just saying, I would have preferred if you didn’t wear this skirt here.” He said, lowly. 
“Are we really going to argue about this right now?” You scoffed, an amused smile adorned your face.
“Don’t play dumb with me right now,” He grabbed your chin. “This skirt is so damn short, you could bend over and everyone could see your fucking pussy,” Sukuna furrowed his eyebrows together. “It’s like you wore it on purpose, fuckin’ attention whore, you’re embarrassing me,” He bit his tongue back realizing the words that just came from his mouth, especially seeing the look on your face. Your mouth was opened slightly, and your eyes widened. That familiar lump forming in your throat. You swiftly pushed past him and walked out of the house, Sukuna was close behind on your heels.
“Y/N, c’mon babe! I didn’t mean it like that.” He held onto your arm.
 “Then what did you mean it like then?” You ripped your arm from his grasp, turning around to face him as you two stood under the street lights.
 “We haven’t had sex in two weeks Y/N! We can’t even be in a room together without fighting! Can you blame me? You’re beautiful and everyone can see that, are you even attracted to me anymore?!” Sukuna berated you, raising his voice. 
“Of course, I’m still attracted to you!” You defended yourself, trying to reassure him. 
“Sure, doesn’t feel like it, Y/N,” Sukuna rubbed his face. You could see the frustration written in bold in his expression. “I don’t even know why we are fighting… Are you trying to push me away? Break up with me?” Sukuna looked down, not wanting you to see him look so weak.
“No! Sukuna…I don’t want to break up.” You hesitantly reached out to him, only for him to back away. 
“Then why are you acting like such a bitch?!” Sukuna finally broke, his sadness turning into rage.
 “Excuse me? You have no room to talk! You’re such a dick Sukuna!” You yelled back at him, feeling tears brim your eyes. “You can’t even apologize!” You looked up at him, fighting the urge to break down in front of him.
“What am I supposed to apologize for?” Sukuna stepped towards you, getting into your face. 
“You’re so insufferable,” You spat at him. “Maybe I do want to break up.” You said looking straight into his eyes. 
“Yeah? Then fuckin’ do it, I dare you.” Sukuna inched closer to your face, you could feel his hot breath.
“Fuck you, Sukuna.” 
In a matter of seconds, your lips were smashed together, his tongue invading your mouth while your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life. His hands tangled in your hair. You bit down on his bottom lip, a growl escaping from his mouth. He removed his hands from your head to your waist, trying to be as close to you as possible. You felt his hard cock pressing against you, making you moan, instinctively you brought your hand down to palm him through his jeans.
“Oh fuck!” He groaned. “Want me fuck ya? Hmm?” He smacked your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Get in the car.” He demanded and pulled the keys out to unlock it. He crawled into the passenger seat, scooting and leaning the seat back as far as he could get it. 
 “C’mere pretty,” Sukuna pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle him. He slammed the car door shut, maintaining eye contact with you. His hands dipped between your legs, rubbing your mound through your panties. “You soaked through your panties, ha-ah!”
He pulled your panties to the side running his fingers between your folds. You moan loudly, his rough skin sending tingles throughout your body. He started to teasingly rub your clit, barely giving it any stimulation. He moved down your slit once again, probing your tight little entrance. Slipping two fingers inside, thrusting in n’ out at a painfully slow speed.
“P-please Kuna, feel s’ good, w-want more.” Desperate whimpers spilling from your mouth. Your hands clinging onto his biceps to keep your upper body stable. Sukuna's fingers pick up speed, creating loud ‘squelch’ sounds from your wet cunt. 
“Fuckin’ pathetic, got this pussy so sloppy just from kissing.” He said cockily, acting like his dick wasn’t about to burst through the zipper of his jeans. 
“S-shut up, I see t-the wet spot on your jeans.” You smirked and motioned to the spot of pre-cum, seeping through his boxers onto his jeans. 
A scowl formed on Sukunas face, he pulled his hand back and swiftly smacked your pussy, making you yelp. “Yeah? You like pissin’ me off, don’t you?” He landed another harsh smack before, shoving two fingers into your tight hole. You gasped loudly at the feeling, his fingers curling into your sensitive spot, over and over again.
“I…I’m g-gonna cum nngh, if you k-keep doing t-that.” Your legs were trembling with pleasure, a knot forming in your stomach. Your orgasm was so close. Then he stopped…
“I don’t think so,” He chuckled and removed his fingers from your wet warmth. “Want you to cum on my cock, can you do that for me, ride this cock?” His tone was menacing, hiding the desperation in his words. 
“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” A little pout on your lips. He chuckled and started to unbutton his jeans, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard length, hidden underneath his boxers. What you’ve been craving for two weeks now. 
Impatiently you reached down to help him, hands fumbling with the waistband. “Impatient? Huh?” Sukuna chuckled, a smirk on his face. His massive member finally free. “Want you to ride me, you know how I like it.” He demanded and helped you guide your hips onto his length. Pulling your skirt up to your waist to watch your bodies connect.
“Shittt, s’ big Kuna.” You squeezed your eyes shut. Never getting used to his size.
“Tsk, this slutty pussy seems to take me fine all those other times, don’t lie to me now.” Sukuna shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. There was an undertone in his words. With no warnings, he thrusted up into you. 
“Oh fuck!” You yelped, his cockhead kissing your cervix perfectly. “D-don’t do that!” You were unable to protest, despite Sukuna saying he wanted YOU to ride him; he's doing all the work.
“Fuck! Always so tight….shittt!” He babbled on and on. His hands dug into your waist, holding you in place so he could violently pound his cock into you with no mercy. His tip was brushing against the bundle of nerves that makes you go crazy. “Yesyesyes, ohmy- Sukuna!” Your screams of pleasure only flued him more.
“Just w-wanna fuck you good, show how I missed fuckin’ my girl.” He groaned loudly. Unable to comprehend anything but the pleasure you’re feeling, your mouth falls open, the drool spilling out, dripping down your chin. Sukuna leans up, his tongue coming out to lick the liquid up.
“Y-you’re s-so sick.” You managed to choke out. Sukuna pulled you down with him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The pace of his thrust never died down, if anything they picked up. The sudden new intensity made him much deeper than before. “So f-fuckin deep Kuna.” 
Your hand slammed against the foggy window, creating a nice hand print. 
“I’m sorry Y/N…m’ really sorry baby.” He suddenly slowed his pace down. His rough grip loosened, hands migrated down to your hips, encouraging you to take over.
Silently you complied, moving against him in circular motions. “N-no I’m sorry, mmph, baby.” You whimpered and pressed your forehead against his. “I s-should have just talked…t-to you.” Your body began to shake again. Your orgasm was creeping up.
“I don’t wanna b-break up.” He admits, his red eyes gazing into yours. “I love you.” He slowly began to thrust back into you, meeting your hips halfway. “Don’t wanna fight with you anymore.” He sounded so desperate.
“I love you too.” Your lips met his for a soft kiss, humming at the feeling. Your release was so close, your walls started to pulse around him. “M’ gonna cum.” Sukuna's ears perked up, he almost came just from hearing your words and feeling the way you squeezed so tightly around him. 
“Yeah? Me too, cum with me baby,” He picked up the pace once again. “Milk this cock.” Heavy groans coming from him. His cum painting your tight walls, your own orgasm hitting you. Pulsating around him, milking every drop of his release. “So good baby, that’s it…” He cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your hips. 
“I forgive you by the way…” You kissed his forehead. 
“Let me eat that pretty pussy first and I’ll forgive you too.”
“Sukuna!”
“Just kidding…”
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p3terparker · 2 years ago
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𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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xazse · 3 months ago
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hiii pookie I LOVED your hybrid post like it got me foaming from the mouth ngl 🫶 you're so talented!!
If you're into it, can we get cowhybrid! reader and Farmer!Gojo specifically please and thank you? I need to see the reader all needy and desperate and Gojo being the only one who can truly give her release and and what she truly needs (feel free to remix or add anyone/anything that you please)
If you're not into it, please ignore this ask instead of refusing because I get embarrassed hihi🎀🫶 anyways mwah mwah love u take care pookie
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ANOTHER TRY?
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Notes: THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED MY WORK!!! and to the second ask I’m very happy you requested that bull!hybrid work lLOVEDDD WORKING ON IT!! You guys are so creative I need to eat ur brain!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR A PT2 I SEE YOU GUYS!!! (IF UR READING THIS TO MY OTHER INBOX OFC YOU CAN BE 🪬 ANON!!)
Pairings: CowHybrid!Reader x Farmer!Gojo
Warnings: Lactation + big!boobedReader + implied chubby!reader + nipplesucking + grinding + mean!Satoru + pussy!slapping + teasing.
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Gojo has spoiled you for far too long it makes his blood boil and temples wrinkle when you continue to go see Toji and Suguru, it becomes a habit for you to come back in the early mornings after having a night of “fun.”
Confronting said men proved to be so fucking useless, they just laughed in his face when he said he’d kick both of them to the curb should they continue to corrupt you.
“You need us Satoru, why are you allowed to have your nightly routines but she cant? It was gonna happen eventually.” Tojis face was decorated with a fat sneer, all those times he tried to make sure you stayed as far as possible were all for naught, it’s hilarious seeing him seething behind a cool facade.
“Never knew what Toji seen in the woman but now I completely understand his point.” Suguru yelled from where he was transporting some wood.
Talking to them proved to be useless, as a little payback he made them clean the shed from top to bottom.
Trudging back to the main house in his thick boots Satoru comes to face you relaxing on the couch without a damn care in the world.
Why is he trying to get them to be on his level when he should be punishing you, you’re the one who didn’t listen, you’re the one sneaking out every night. He doesn’t know why he feels this hold on you, you’re such a beautiful girl that he can’t help but keep you in this small bubble.
When your eyes land on him you don’t say any kind of greeting, simply ignoring his presence for the movie on the huge ass tv he bought for you and eating the expensive food he bought for you.
You look extremely good right now, your fat boobs not swollen, but your pretty lips are. Satoru won’t say it but his pants tighten at the thought of what they do to you.
He needs you right now, he’ll make it up to you as much as he can.
He approaches you calmly and collected, sitting down at the edge of the couch where your legs are propped up, you still don’t acknowledge him. His trained hands start circling on your soft supple skin, you surprisingly don’t push him away. You give Satoru an inch he’ll take a mile.
He starts groping your thighs, the pudgy things hold within the creases of his hand. He pushes your thighs apart and gets a good look at your panties: you always choose to walk around the house like this.
They’re extra tight the way they emphasize your fat pussy, the groan that slips from his lips aren’t-something he tries to hold back, he needs you to know how much he wants you, especially wants you all to himself.
The rise and fall of your chest makes you look so cute, why are you so shy all of a sudden? You’re averting your eyes as well.
Satoru starts teasing your clothed folds, dragging his thick finger up and down, he pushes extra hard on your clit eliciting a small moan from you. He continues this for a little, he needs you wet to take him properly.
He peels off your soddened panties and positions himself above you, finally face to face with you. Your boobs are the first thing he attacks, pulling on your shirt and letting them spill out, the little droplets of milk call to him. He’s grabbing one and putting it into his mouth: he loves your taste so sweet like honey as it cascades down his throat so smoothly.
“Nghm… Toru..” finally you’ve decided to grace him with your sultry voice.
He bites down a little on your nipple making you jump away. He reels you right back in and sucks even harsher, there’s barely any milk left but he’s going to make sure he gets his full.
“Toru.” You call his name so panicked and yet you’re grinding against his fully hard cock. He’s so desperate in the moment that he unbuckles his belt and lets his cock bob free.
His fat tip prods agaisnt your folds, messing with your sticky wetness, he smears it on his tip even grinding down on your clit, but he doesn’t put it in, you don’t deserve that.
He teases you, pretending he’s going to give you what you want just to take it all away.
“Please…” a harsh and loud smack is delivered straight to your clit, you yelp and buckle your legs closed.
“Shirt, take your shirt off.” He commands, of course you’re gonna listen, Satoru has never taken that tone with you.
Your boobs now freely spill for him to gaze at. He spreads your legs back open.
“I’m gonna give you ten slaps, close your legs for even one I’m restarting. Understood?” You nod and your ears move along with it. He likes this look on your face: confusion, arousal and a little bit of fear.
On the first slap you make the mistake of shutting your legs closed: completely an accident but he’s having none of it, he hits your little clit again and again.
“Ahn..” you’re still so fucking wet by the sixth slap, creating a nasty mess that drips to your ass. Gojo’s cock is still throbbing, he jerks himself off, smearing his pre all over.
By the tenth slap you’re gone, completely dazed and only able to whine outloud, he decides that you’ve had enough with the tears that sit on your eye line. He pushes your legs back and lines his weeping tip. The feeling of sliding into your sopping wet cunt is better than any pussy he’s ever had.
His strokes against you are fast even though he should be letting you adjust, the sounds of skin against skin meeting each other is downright lewd.
He tells you to rub your nipples, it adds so much more stimulation that you can’t find it in you to hate it.
His cock drags agaisnt your walls over and over, till you can’t feel anything but the sensitivity of your nipples and the twitching of his fat cock.
He fucks you like that all night, even when you’re meant to meet Toji and Suguru, you can’t stop creaming around farmer Gojos length and nor do you want to.
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whoblewboobear · 5 months ago
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It’s strange, I’m used to hyperfixating hard on things like HARD (beats my 2yr long beetlejuice musical obsession back with a stick) but Starbreaker- not even fantasy high itself took me over to the point of feeling like a teen about. Like I haven’t had this much fun in fandom in years. I haven’t like- interacted with people this much in fandom in years (which is still not enough but if I beat myself up about social interaction again I’ll jump off a cliff)
But there’s never been a concern of like “this obsession won’t fade for a while but it’ll lose popularity” and that’s fine and surprisingly it hasn’t. But it is different. It’s like adapting to it constantly as the thing itself changes even when there are aspects that you’d like to stay the same. Like that ‘I don’t go to this school of thought, but I’ll still take the class bc it’s interesting’ sorta thing.
And then there’s that feeling of WANTING to contribute but the thing has become such a beast that it’s like oooh I’m so out of my depths here.
Also like constantly having to look myself in the eye and be like ‘bitch you don’t have to talk or contribute to EVERYTHING’ and the sooner I accept that and accept that it is what it is, ill miss things, I won’t get enjoyment out of every aspect and every aspect isn’t for me and that that isn’t a bad thing, I’ll stop having moments of feeling weird and out of place. I have my lil corner and that’s okay
#ngl I think the biggest ‘culture shock’ ig about being in fandom is that tagging systems have changed so much or something bc I’m used to#walking in a tag and that’s where you find everything#but now it’s different#things are tagged wayyy differently and it means missing things or setting aside time to go down a list to check every blog#I dunno#I always feel a little weird about main tagging sb stuff now bc I’ll check the tag and it’s like oh? things are slowing down#but it’s like nooo bc of tagging and different lanes entirely I’m just missing stuff#idk what this is I’m just talking but it’s strange#I think I’m bad at fandom and that defeats the purpose of it bc it’s recreational#it’s supposed to be fun.#it’s /supposed/ to be fun#I saw a post the other day of someone that’s in this purely for Jace and having similar feelings of being out of the loop and it got me#thinking bc on some part I’ve contributed to it and I’ve probably clogged tags#but the lizard part of my brain that gets the dopamine boost from getting a note is like if I don’t main tag it won’t be seen#but truly either way I am mostly talking to myself lmao#so yah know? idk it should be fun#idk what this is and idk if I’ll fully ever commit to a different/quieter tagging system#bc tumblr is the place I got to scream and be annoying without being told it’s too much and some how I’ve convinced myself that on my own#blog and fandom spaces I enjoy that I’m just annoying#and I don’t wanna think that#I think I’m tired. like hyperfixation hasn’t died but the part of me that’s hungry for being completely consumed by it is tired#my one fear is that I’ll be so annoying that my fic will finish and no one will care#which isn’t true bc I’ll care until the bitter end lmao#idk I’ve talked so much that I’m like oh I’ve done the thing again I should shut up#also this is too like- self focused way too self focused#which just makes it worse bc then I’m like that’s what got me in this mess#but goddamn there’s just so much shit I’m missing out on and interactions I’d like to have but about things that I’m out of my depths on#so it made fandom a little lonely and a little secular#feeling like a kid on the outs#I want that feeling to die especially about the things I love
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nebulaafterdark · 6 months ago
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At The Pleasure Of The Crown
Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.
18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.
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It begins in the pleasure house, when Aegon tears back one of the curtains to find his brother. Nude and curled around one of the women.
“Haha,” Aegon points, “Aemond the fierce.”
Even the guardsmen there on Aegon’s behalf, shift uncomfortably as he begins taunting his brother. Though none of them will say as much.
“Stop it, you awful man.” Y/N bats at her husband.
He catches her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “Awful man?” Aegon muses, “that’s not very nice, my only love.”
“You are mean.”
Aegon frowns, “not to you.”
“You should not be mean to your brother either.”
“Are you truly angry with me?” He asks, releasing her wrists to twirl a bit of dark hair around his finger.
“Yes,” Y/N pouts.
“Please, say it isn’t so, my darling girl.” Aegon wraps his arms tightly around her, peppering her face with kisses. “I adore you.”
She says nothing, sighing against him. Stroking the stubble on his chin.
He chases her finger with his lips, “forgive me.”
“Be kind.” Y/N insists.
“Of course,” he nods, “I will be on my best behavior. I swear it.”
Y/N kisses his lips once in parting, shooing him away.
“My wife,” Aegon says to the crowd of men, “she is better than I deserve.” He stands, holding the curtain back, “I will miss her dearly.” Aegon pulls himself away, “now, a round of drinks for all; at the pleasure of the crown!”
Y/N smiles, with a shake of her head. “Might you excuse us?” She asks of Aemond’s company.
“Of course, your grace.” The older woman nods, taking her leave.
“I apologize for Aegon. I do hope you were finished, at least.”
Aemond says nothing.
“I’ve given up the opportunity to bed a woman to be here with you.” Y/N tells him, “let no one say I do not treat you fairly.”
“You should go to her. My brother does so love when there are two of you.”
“At least I’m loved.”
“He loves you to the fullest extent he is capable.”Aemond understands well. “What suprises me most is that you allow these behaviors.”
“Aegon is who he is, we can choose to either love or loath him for it.” Some people are born with sadness sewn in.
“Why love him then, if it is your choice?”
“Why do you come back to this place for comfort?” Y/N purses her lips, “why does anyone?”
Aemond stares blankly, awaiting an answer.
“Because it’s what we know. My late grandsire, the king, insisted it was my duty to keep Aegon contented. I have performed my duty.”
“My father has been dead for years now, with your mother seated peacefully upon his throne.” He hums, “you don’t strike me as a woman content forever unchanging.”
Y/N makes herself comfortable on the silk sheets, lying fully clothed beside Aemond, in all his glory. “I am content.”
He continues staring, studying her, allowing gentle hands to brush hair away from his face.
“Do you like to be petted?”
“Do you enjoy drowning in cups? Or is that another of my brother’s interests being forced upon you?”
“Aegon’s never forced me to do a thing.” Y/N admits, “he lives only to please me.”
“I will say that must be true, considering he does not have a hoard of bastards in the fighting pit.”
“He is careful.” Y/N confirms, “he told me once that our children were kissed by the gods because our love created them. He is particularly rigid about moon tea, even with his favorite ladies.”
“For once, my brother and I see eye to eye.”
“And where, on this matter, do you differ?”
“If you were my wife, I would not allow you here. You would scarcely see the outside of our chambers.”
“You would lock me away?”
“I certainly would not leave you alone with him, in a room at the pleasure house.” Aemond drawls.
“Aegon believes our bodies are naught but vessels for pleasure and of course, producing heirs. He holds little interest in who warms my bed, so long as he is the only one to know my heart.” Y/N explains. “He is fiercely possessive over it.”
“That is what I would desire most from you.”
“We would never lie together?”
Aemond sighs, “we would. Every hour. Until you were molded in the shape of me.”
Y/N swallows, harshly.
“That is the way I would love you.”
————————————————————————
Y/N makes her way down to the library, on nights she cannot sleep. Happening across Prince Aemond, who she’s scarcely seen since that night in the pleasure house. He lazes about one of the chairs, with a large book in hand.
Y/N thinks at first, she best not disturb him, but as she passes, he stares up at her. “What are you reading?”
“The anthology of serpents.”
“Is it any good?”
“I am reading in the hopes of finding sleep. It works best if the subject doesn’t interest me.” Aemond drags a finger along the edge of the page, flipping to the next.
“Right.” Y/N sifts through titles on the shelves.
“Have you read Aegon’s journal entries?”
“My husband keeps a journal? This is news to me.” Aegon’s never had much fascination with literature.
“The Conqueror.” Aemond clarifies.
“Of course,” Y/N shakes her head, “Aegon the Conqueror.”
“It’s a good read, in-”
“Three parts,” Y/N nods, “I’ve read them all.”
“Do you come to this place often?”
“Nearly every night.” The princess confirms.
“Always alone? Or accompanied by your husband?”
“A-alone.” She stammers, “I am often alone.”
“That is unfortunate.” Aemond hums. “Mayhaps I might find you here again.”
He does, of course. The next night and the night after that.
“Is it more comfortable with the eye patch on, or off?” Y/N wonders, having spent a fair share of time staring at him both ways.
“It makes little difference. The covering is mostly for the comfort of others, namely my mother. She was always quite saddened by the sight of it.”
“The sapphire is beautiful.” Y/N clears her throat.
“I’m glad you approve of your brother’s work.”
Y/N taps a finger against her wedding band as she speaks, “Lucerys is a gentle soul. It is not in his nature to attack viciously. He must’ve been very frightened.”
Aemond stands abruptly, leaving without a word. What could she know of what transpired between them that night in Driftmark? She was off nursing Aegon as he drowned in his cups.
Y/N returns to her apartments, finding comfort beneath the covers, she is nearly asleep when the door opens.
“What are you doing in here?” Aegon squints at her.
“I went to your rooms first, my love.” She yawns, “you were not there.”
“I need you in my bed.” Aegon tells her, “I need you always.”
“And you shall have me always. Come lie with me.” Y/N pats the space beside her.
Aegon strips down to his small clothes and joins her beneath the covers. “I thought you’d left me.”
Y/N sighs, passing a hand through his hair as he rests his head against her chest. “Why would I leave you, Aegon?”
“Because I am not worth staying for.” The words are muffled in the fabric of her nightgown.
“I love you.” Y/N reminds him. “I will not leave.”
————————————————————————
Y/N and Aemond spend many a night reading, seated across from each other. Though he was not thrilled about their conversation concerning Lucerys, Aemond never misses an evening.
They discuss their findings, when there is anything of interest in the history pages.
“I happened across this passage here,” Y/N plops the book unceremoniously into Aemond’s lap.
“Mmm,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably, “there goes the family jewels.”
Y/N covers her mouth with a hand. “Forgive me.”
“Mayhaps we might try something different this night. If you’re up to it.”
Y/N takes his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her out to the training ground. “I am not trained by the sword.”
“I could teach you.” Aemond makes for the wooden training blades. “They will not cut you, but it is not pleasant to be struck.” He warns.
Y/N reaches out, grabbing the hilt. Testing the weight of it in her hand.
“Widen your stance.” Aemond tells her.
Y/N shuffles her feet apart, “like this?”
“Close enough.”
Her dark brows furrow in concentration and when their swords meet, Aemond relishes in the little grunting noises she makes.
“Ao vīlībagon olvie sȳrī syt mēre qilōni knows daorun hen egros.” You fight quite well for one who knows nothing of the sword.
She smiles, “bodmagho nyke skorkydoso naejot tatagon ao hen.” Teach me how to finish you off.
Aemond chuckles, “do not tempt me, girl.”
Y/N lunges for him, an untrained hand against the master, leaving herself exposed to his attack.
He uses the tip of his sword to lift her chin, “I win.”
She swallows, batting it away. “I want to go again.”
And so they do, until she is spent. Collapsing on the ground, as though he’s truly run her through with the blade. Aemond finds this more amusing than he lets on.
“Up,” he demands, “you will make a mess of yourself, rolling around in the dirt.”
“I will surely bathe after our activities, you needn’t worry.”
“Do you need me to carry you back to your apartments then?”
“After a while.” Y/N grins, resting a hand beneath her head as a makeshift pillow to gaze up at the night sky.
“What are you doing?” Aemond hovers over her.
“See for yourself.” Y/N insists.
Aemond grumbles, taking a seat in the dirt before fully reclining. “The moon?”
“The stars,” Y/N tells him. “When I was a girl my mother would point to the stars and ask what we saw in them.”
“To what possible end?”
Y/N shrugs, “entertainment, I suppose. Or gods forbid, fun.”
“What do you see?” Aemond asks, turning his face toward her.
“Well, just there, I see a hound.” Y/N points to a cluster of lights.
“A hound?” Aemond cocks his head to the side, following the line of her finger.
“Can’t you see?”
“Not at all.” He smirks.
“What do you see then?”
“A crown.” Aemond tells her.
“Where?” Y/N shuffles closer to him, hoping to see.
“Beside the sword.”
“There is no sword.”
“And I say, there is no hound.”
Aegon stumbles out towards the pair, listening to them bicker. “What are you doing?”
“Looking upon the stars, my love. Come lie with us.” Y/N waves him over.
Aegon smiles, indulgently. “Alright.” He joins them on the ground, opposite his brother, Y/N in the middle. “Not very comfortable, is it?”
“The sky is beautiful, is it not?”
Aegon blinks at it once, before turning back to her. “You are my moon and stars.”
Y/N rolls atop of him, kissing the expanse of his face, ten times over.
Oh to be so loved.
Aemond withdraws, prepared to take his leave.
“Goodnight, Aemond.” Y/N calls after him.
With a shake of his head, he calls back, “goodnight.”
————————————————————————
Aemond will never admit the amount of times his brother’s wife dances cross his mind during the day. He does his best to distract himself.
The sound of laughter travels down the hall, from their children’s rooms. Aegon is not much, in his brother’s eye. But even Aemond cannot deny fatherhood suits him.
“And then, from the sky, a big scary dragon swoops down to claim its next victim!” Aegon flaps his arms, parading around like a fool, as his children scatter. Giggling and hollering all the while.
Their youngest son runs to Y/N for protection.
“Come, my dearest love. I will save you.” She smiles, taking the little boy into her lap.
Aemond stands in the crack of the door; watching the scene unfold.
Princess Y/N grins from ear to ear as her husband gallops over, enveloping her in his arms.
“Oh no, mother! You’ve been eaten by the dragon.” Her daughter laughs.
“And I am still hungry.” Aegon smiles, turning his attention back to the eldest children.
Aemond turns away, continuing down the hall. Mayhaps he does want children. Mayhaps he wants them with her, but such things are foolish to desire. So he refuses to.
————————————————————————
“How do you get your hair so straight?” Y/N wonders. “It used to have wave to it, like Aegon’s.”
“From the looks of Aegon’s hair he could do with better hygiene.”
“Be kind,” Y/N chides him. “He has beautiful hair.”
“If you want access to trade secrets, you must allow me to speak freely.” Aemond challenges.
“I love Aegon.”
Aemond nods. “Of course”
“And that is fine by you?”
He smirks, “you’ve only now thought to ask?”
“I had not thought so much of it before.” She admits, “but now it is all I can-”
“If it is my permission you seek to continue loving your husband, I have overstepped.”
Y/N bites her tongue.
“I doubt he is asking whores for their blessing to go on loving you.”
“I wish only to be fair to you.” Y/N searches his eye.
“From the moment you pulled back the curtain in the pleasure house, you have been unfair to me.” Aemond tells her, “made my heart ache for you, made me long for you, then left with my brother when you were through. It did not seem to bother you then.”
“I did not mean for this to happen.”
“I believe that is true. You are not wanton for the suffering of others, but sometimes these things happen.”
“I am finished, if you’re angry with me.”
“Has no one been angry at you before?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“Then, I am honored to be the first.” He brushes a kiss to her cheek. “Before you go, I have something for you.”
Y/N swallows.
“Turn around.” Aemond murmurs, reaching into his breast pocket.
Y/N does as she’s told, catching only a glimpse of glimmering metal before it meets her skin. Clasping at the back of her neck.
Aemond walks her toward his mirror, brushing dark hair over her shoulders so she can see it properly.
“Why give this to me now, if you are angry?” Her brows furrow.
Aemond traces a finger along her collarbone. “You will find that people are multifaceted. We have imperfections and sharp edges, but we are a direct reflection of the light shone upon us.”
————————————————————————
The necklace is beautiful, enough that even Aegon takes notice. Raising the subject in their chambers unlacing the back of her dress. The material falls free, pooling at her feet. Leaving only her shift and small clothes, which soon meet the same end.
“That is a lovely necklace, darling girl.” He runs his finger along the glittering blue jewels, hanging above her breasts. It looks familiar to him, though he cannot say why. His wife is often dripping in jewels he’s gifted her. There is no way of remembering them all. “Was it buried at the back of your jewelry box?”
Y/N smiles, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingertips and then place them upon her breasts. “It was a gift.”
“From whom, my only love?” He forces a grin, kneading the fleshy mounds.
“Aemond.”
No. A blow directly to his gut. He nods, giving the peaks of her breasts a tug before letting them fall free, sensitive and aching. “Upon the bed, my heart.” He smiles.
Y/N returns the gesture, sitting at the edge of the mattress.
“Lie back for me.”
Y/N does as he asks, allowing her legs to fall open, out of habit.
“Good girl.” Aegon drops to his knees, pressing his face to the altar and begins to pray. Every cruel word spoken against him does not exist here. He is safe between her thighs, with gentle hands carding his hair.
He would spend hours there, if she let him. Ignoring the bite of overstimulation to soothe his need for her. His jaw aches, working her writhing body through one peak to the next.
“Fuck,” Y/N sobs. Fighting the urge to press against his head for reprieve.
Aegon takes her hands in his, knotting their fingers together. When he tires of all her squirming, he trails kisses up to her pretty face. Nuzzling her nose with his own as he thumbs away tears.
Y/N sighs, contently. Relaxing enough to calm her breathing.
Aegon lowers his face to her breasts then, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they stand at attention. Sucking them between his teeth, laving his tongue over them until they too are sensitive. He leans up, pecking one final kiss to her lips before heading back to her cunt.
He spreads her legs wide, until her outer thighs rest on the mattress and his hands grip the insides firmly. “I am not finished.” He whispers.
Y/N whines, covering her face with both hands.
“I will be gentle.” He hushes her. “So, so, gentle.”
She cries out at the feel of his tongue lapping her folds. Everything ablaze.
He draws one last peak from his dearest love before he is satisfied, leaving her a quivering mess. “I want another child.”
Y/N nods, willing to give him anything.
“Turn around for me, up on your knees.”
Y/N rolls onto her belly, pushing up on her elbows and knees.
“Poor, little thing, leaking all over.” Aegon croons. “Does my brother not satisfy you?”
“We do not lie together.” Y/N tells him.
“What is it you do together?” Aegon’s lips twitch.
“Talk.”
He huffs a laugh. “You could talk to anyone, dearest. Why him?”
Y/N lifts a shoulder, “he is quite fascinating.”
“Have you come to care for him?”
“In the way you care for your ladies, I would wager.”
Aegon blinks, slightly dazed, as though he’s never considered it. “I love nothing in this world the way I love you.”
“As I love you.” Y/N peeks over her shoulder at him.
Aegon lines up his aching cock, sliding into her warm, with ease.
Y/N sighs, relishing the feel of him.
Aegon’s thoughts are plagued by the stupid sapphire necklace, bouncing between her breasts. Glittering against the bedding in the soft candle light, laughing at him.
He’s caught off guard by the force which possesses him to move her hair aside and yank the chain until it snaps.
“Ah,” Y/N rears back, clutching the skin of her burning neck.
“I am so terribly sorry, my only love.” Aegon apologizes, gathering her up, with her back to his chest. “It caught on my ring.” He kisses what he can reach of her flesh. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was wrong and he hates that he’s hurt her. “I will buy you a new necklace.”
Y/N reaches a hand back to caress his hair, eyes brimming with tears. “It felt as though you tugged.”
Aegon nuzzles her shoulder, leaning into her touch. “I will never harm you on purpose. Forgive me.”
Y/N nods, “of course.”
He turns her face toward him, enough for their lips to meet.
————————————————————————
Aemond does not see Y/N again, not for two nights. Whatever hold the wench has over him will not allow him to surpass that.
He finds her pacing the corridor nearest the library, wringing her hands. “What troubles you, Princess?”
Y/N sucks in a breath, “Aemond.”
“You have not been to the library.”
“I thought it best,” she nods.
“Why?” He leans against the pillar beside her.
“I do not wish to hurt you. After we last spoke, I realized that…”
“You would rather pace in a corridor, inflicting your own suffering than harm me?”
“I suppose I would.”
“If I wish to speak with Aegon about us, would you be opposed?” Aemond asks.
“What would you say?” Her eyes widen.
He taps her chin, “that is none of your concern, sweetling.”
“I love him dearly.” Y/N says, grabbing for his hand.
“Our marriage would only further serve to strengthen your claim to the throne. With Aegon and I at your side, there would be no one to contest you. Your mother, the Queen would be elated to have your claim upheld so fiercely.”
“You raised this matter with my mother?” Y/N whispers.
“I had to be sure it was an option, as I know you will forever toil in servitude of the crown. An honorable venture, for which you will find yourself in need of a King Consort well versed in the histories and matters of the realm.” Aemond takes another step toward her.
“A generous offer,” Y/N nods. “Still I must discuss this with my husband before any decision can be made.”
“Of course,” Aemond smiles.
————————————————————————
Y/N does discuss it with Aegon that night and the mere suggestion lands him in his brother’s room, prepared to kill him.
“I offered you a kindness, to wean you off of that woman at the pleasure house and this is how you repay me? By spitting in my face?” Aegon screams, the veins of his neck pulsing and red with fury.
“While you are busy fucking whores, it is my company your wife seeks. It is her mind which needs stimulating, and however unfortunate, I do not believe you are suited for the task.” Aemond holds both arms behind his back, unfazed by Aegon’s outburst.
“Y/N is the most precious thing in this world to me. She is mine, she has always been mine, she is always going to be mine. Take her cunt, if you must, but nothing more.”
Aemond purses his lips, “we are at an impasse then. I am quite taken with the whole of her.“
“It was me she swore oaths to, my children that grew inside her, my hand she holds. What do you want of her?”
“Soon she will swear the same oaths to me.” Aemond muses, “when I lie with her, it will be my seed that takes.“ He lifts a shoulder, “if you are kind to me, I may allow you to hold her hand as I do it.”
Part 2
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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago
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I'm here with a Wuthering Waves request.
Could I request Jiyan with a s/o who likes talking about how pretty and handsome he is?
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‘Look at you,’ you said softly as you held his face within your hands, fingertips caressing his skin as though it was made out of porcelain, while your gaze was transfixed on the many shades that made up his gorgeous eyes that always seemed to be set in a glare or deep thought. ‘Beautiful.’
Jiyan thought that after a while he would’ve gotten use to your honeyed words of sincerity and soft touches, however the general has found himself melting under your adoring gaze more times then he’d like to admit. With him being General it didn’t leave much room for you two to spend much time together, so when you do spend some time together Jiyan tries his hardest to make every second count as reconciliation for how often he’s away performing his duties.
You on the other hand didn’t mind it, sure it got lonely now and then but you’d always remind yourself that when your beloved general does come home from the battlefield, you got the opportunity to show just how much you appreciated him. You knew what you were getting into when you accepted his affections and became his partner, and as his partner it was your duty to take his mind off of his duties and bring about a sense of normality to his life.
‘Is there a reason you’re complimenting me?’ Jiyan asked, righting his hardest to not close his eyes upon feeling your fingertips caress his jaw in a way made every thought escape his head until all he could think of was how careful you were being with him.
‘I’m merely telling the truth my dear general, you are indeed a handsome man to gaze upon.’ You replied smiling warmly at him.
‘Is that why I always catch you looking at me as often as you do when I’m training?’ Jiyan raises his brow knowingly as you could only feel your cheeks flush at being caught but your couldn’t help it, you loved seeing your partner train as you got to watch him in his element and fall even more in love with him then you already had.
‘Guilty as charged,’ you chuckled as you pressed a kiss to his nose, ‘though I will not be made ashamed in watching my beloved general look ethereal and heavenly even when he’s working up a sweat.’ You added shamelessly.
Jiyan tightened his hold on your waist and pulled you in close. ‘You truly are a troublesome one aren’t you my love.’
‘Am I worth the trouble General?’ You asked him, looking deeply into those captivating eyes that you longed to look into their seemingly endless depths of pure gold forever.
‘You are indeed worth it and much more, it is I that should be asking you that question.’ Jiyan said as he recalled the important dates that he had missed due to his duties as general, he knew you didn’t resent him one bit for it, but that didn’t mean he himself had forgiven for missing out on the most important days of your life together.
You furrowed your brows as you saw a look of guilt and remorse cast over his face and you immeditly moved into action by planting kisses all over his face as you whispered sweet nothings to him. ‘You are anything but trouble my sweet, handsome Jiyan. The man with the prettiest golden eyes and the most beautiful blue hair that consumes my every waking thought to the point it maddens me.’ You pull away just to rest your forehead against his.
‘You may hold resentment towards yourself but I don’t, I miss you it’s true but my love for you is unending, I love you when you’re with me and I love you when you’re away fighting to protect our home. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes upon and I will say that until I have lost my voice completely.’ You steal a kiss from his lips. ‘You are worth every bit of me even if you may not think so but you are and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you because if I don’t, then may my heart be forever incomplete without you. So please don’t doubt yourself because I don’t doubt who my heart chooses to love wholeheartedly.’ You finished.
Jiyan only pulled you in tightly against his chest as he burrowed his head into your shoulder to hide away his burning cheeks, the words he wanted to say had died upon his tongue when you bore your heart out to him, his eyes sealed shut as he took you in your entirety and engraved it to his memory for when he had to leave once more for the battlefield; hoping that your scent would cling to him so that he’d have something of you to keep him going when stuck in the front lines.
He just wanted to have some aspect of you with him as his own personal morale boost when he was feeling at a loss, but wouldn’t allow for the soldiers to see that side of him, for if the general is shown at a loss, then the soldiers are quick to loose hope, he has to be strong for them like a good general should from his troupes and be a human second. ‘My heart has always belonged to you my dear,’ he began, ‘I didn’t see it fit that I’d receive your honeyed words due to my frequent absences, but with your unconditional love i am sure to see myself the way you see me one day; if you’ll continue to help me.’ He finishes, tightening his hold on you.
You smiled brightly as you stole kiss from his lips. ‘Forever and always my pretty General.’
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say-al0e · 10 months ago
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Movie Night
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!
Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)
“I think I’m going to ask him out.”
Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.
A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind. 
The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a  weary glance.
Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.
“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”
Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.
“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.
Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.
Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.
And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.
Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.
“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”
“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.
Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”
The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.
“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”
Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.
“You’re really into him?” 
Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.
“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.
A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.
“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”
Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”
With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.
“Steve.”
An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”
Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”
Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”
“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”
“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”
With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.
“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”
Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”
Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."
Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.
“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.
Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”
With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.
“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”
A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”
“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”
Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.
“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”
“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”
Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”
“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”
“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”
Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.
“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”
“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”
“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”
Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice. 
Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.
For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.
The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.
There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.
And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.
At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.
“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.
Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.
“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”
“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.
“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”
Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”
“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”
As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”
“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move -  as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”
The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”
Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”
“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”
There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”
It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”
“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”
“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”
Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”
For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.
Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.
It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.
“Do I make you nervous?”
The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”
“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”
“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”
“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”
“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”
As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”
Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”
“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”
That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”
“God, we’re kinda gross.”
“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”
For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.
“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”
With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.
The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.
As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.
Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.
“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.
“We can rewind it later.” 
Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.
Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear. 
“Want to kiss you more.”
He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”
Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.
Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.
Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.
“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”
“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”
“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”
“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”
“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.
“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”
The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.
“I’m closer than you think.”
Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.
“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“
“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”
Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.
“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”
Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.
“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”
“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”
Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.
“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.
“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.
“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”
“You’re killing me. Fuck.”
Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.
Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.
Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.
Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.
It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.
But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”
The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.
For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”
Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”
As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”
“What a way to go, though, hm?”
Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.
Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.
With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.
“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.
“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”
A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.
“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”
“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”
Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”
“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”
Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.
For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.
A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”
It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”
“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”
Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”
“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”
“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.
However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.
Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.
This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.
Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.
“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”
Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.
Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.
The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.
Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.
Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”
With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.
Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams. 
For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.
When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.
“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”
With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”
“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”
Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”
Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.
__________________________________________________
Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.
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amirasainz · 4 days ago
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hooola!! absolutely love the baby alonso series and i’d love to see her playing with penelope maybe?? or one of lando’s nieces!!
hope u have a great day 🫶🫶
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 💕
@piastappies
Best friends forever
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The bustling paddock was alive with the hum of race car engines, chatter from teams, and fans eagerly seeking autographs. Amidst the energy of the Formula 1 weekend, two tiny figures stood out—Yn and Penelope.
Yn, with her sparkling pink bike that had streamers hanging off the handlebars, was busy adjusting her helmet. Penelope, on her equally dazzling sparkling purple bike, was already riding in circles, her giggles carrying through the air.
"Come on, Yn!" Penelope called, a teasing grin on her face. "You're so slow!"
Yn puffed up her cheeks in mock frustration, tightening the strap on her helmet. "I'm not slow! I just wanna make sure my helmet is perfect! Safety first, P!"
Penelope stopped her bike and crossed her arms dramatically. "We’re in the paddock, silly. No cars are gonna hit us!"
Yn finally climbed onto her bike, wobbling for a moment before finding her balance. "Fine! But you're not gonna win the race!" she said with determination, pedaling furiously to catch up.
The two girls zipped past team garages, their bikes glittering under the sun, leaving a trail of laughter behind them. Engineers paused to watch, some waving and smiling, others snapping quick photos of the adorable sight.
"Careful, girls!" Charles called out, leaning against a garage wall with a cup of coffee.
"We’re being careful!" Penelope yelled back, her voice high-pitched and confident.
"Yeah!" Yn chimed in. "We’re super fast, like Max and Fernando!"
Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, just don’t beat them in qualifying, okay?"
The girls burst into laughter, though neither truly understood what qualifying was.
---
Later, Yn and Penelope decided to ditch their bikes and explore on foot. Hand-in-hand, they skipped down the paddock, their little sneakers slapping against the ground in perfect rhythm.
"We should go see the snacks table!" Penelope suggested, her eyes sparkling.
"Snacks!" Yn cheered. "I hope they have gummy bears. And cookies!"
As they approached the Red Bull hospitality, Max was leaning on a railing, chatting with Sergio. He spotted the duo and immediately straightened up, his tough demeanor softening into a wide grin.
"Hey, what are you two up to now?" Max asked, crouching down to their level.
"Snacks!" Penelope declared with a triumphant fist in the air.
Yn nodded eagerly. "Gummy bears!"
Max laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, the snacks are this way, but no eating too much, okay? I need Penelope to cheer for me later, not fall asleep!"
"I’m gonna cheer for Yn’s dad too!" Penelope said proudly, looking at Yn.
"Me too!" Yn added, squeezing Penelope’s hand.
Max ruffled Penelope's hair, a rare, tender smile on his face. "Good girls. Now go on, and don’t cause too much trouble."
---
The next stop on their grand paddock adventure was Fernando’s garage. The two girls peeked in cautiously before scampering inside. Fernando was sitting on a stool, studying data on a screen, but the moment he saw the two tiny intruders, his face lit up.
"Ah, mis pequeñas amigas!" Fernando exclaimed, opening his arms wide.
Yn ran straight to him, throwing her arms around his leg. "Papa! We’re having the best day ever!"
Fernando chuckled, scooping Yn up onto his lap. "I can see that. And Penelope, are you taking good care of my little one?"
Penelope nodded solemnly. "Of course. We’re best friends!"
"Bestest friends!" Yn echoed, reaching out to hold Penelope’s hand again.
Fernando looked at them with soft eyes. "You know, seeing you two like this reminds me of why we do all this. It’s not just about winning—it’s about family and having fun."
"Does that mean you’ll let us ride your car next time?" Penelope asked, her face completely serious.
Fernando laughed heartily. "Not quite, pequeña, but maybe one day."
---
As the day wore on, Yn and Penelope found new ways to entertain themselves. They drew with chalk on the pavement, leaving colorful hearts and stars for everyone to see. They played hide-and-seek around the motorhomes, with Lando and George willingly pretending not to see their bright clothes sticking out from behind crates.
At one point, the two girls sat on a patch of grass, sharing a juice box they had "borrowed" from the hospitality.
"Do you think we’ll ever drive like our dads?" Yn asked, her face thoughtful.
Penelope tilted her head. "I think so. But only if the cars are purple and pink."
Yn nodded solemnly. "Definitely."
---
By the time the sun began to set, the paddock had grown quieter, but the two girls were still full of energy. They convinced Max and Fernando to sit down with them for one last activity: a tea party.
Fernando looked hilariously out of place, holding a tiny plastic teacup between his large fingers, while Max did his best to balance a tiara Penelope had insisted he wear.
"More tea, sir?" Yn asked in an exaggerated posh accent, holding out an empty teapot.
"Why, thank you, madam," Fernando replied, playing along with a dramatic bow of his head.
Max sighed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. "This tea is excellent, Penelope. Did you make it yourself?"
Penelope giggled. "It’s pretend, Papa!"
"Ah, of course," Max said, nodding seriously.
---
As the day came to an end, Yn and Penelope finally started to tire, their eyes drooping as they sat on a bench together, wrapped in a shared blanket.
Fernando and Max watched from a distance, their competitive natures completely set aside as they admired their daughters.
"They really are something, aren’t they?" Fernando said quietly.
Max nodded, a rare softness in his gaze. "Yeah. Makes you realize what really matters."
The two girls held hands even in their sleep, their innocent friendship a bright light in the often chaotic world of Formula 1.
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