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#great for drabble
someguywriting · 1 year
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People are sleeping on the amazingness of WORD COUNTER DOT NET as a writing tool Don't have the patience to log into google? Use word counter! Don't wanna load up word? Use word counter! Want an accurate count of your words, characters and reading level? Use word counter!
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seungfl0wer · 24 days
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*𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕*
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Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Dom!Chan, Brat!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, CreamPie, Degrading, Mentions Of multiple rounds, Studio Sex, P in V, Sir Used, Slightly proofread.
You can find this beautiful request (here)
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-🖤
You had been testing Chans patience all day today, but what broke the straw was you getting a little too handsy with Changbin. You were sitting in the studio with Chan when Changbin had come into grab something. Somehow you ended up feeling his muscles making him all blushy. When Changbin left for the gym Chan shot you a death glare. He was always so patient, way more than he should be honestly. Today though? He had enough.
He got up locking the door, he hovered over you looking down at you. You stared at the ground not wanting to meet his gaze. That gaze, you knew damn well he was done with your bullshit. He sighed loudly before sitting beside you. Yanking you over his lap making you yelp at the suddenness. He laid your body over his lap ass pushed up. He pulled your shorts down with your underwear as you squirmed at his touch.
“Don’t move.” He said in a low voice. “You know the rules, count and do not look away.” He said staring daggers down at you.
You nod only for him to let a quick slap to your ass. “Words.” He said with a growl.
“Yes- sir, I’m sorry sir” you said voice trailing off a bit at the end.
“And what happens if you don’t keep eyes on me or don’t count?” He said rubbing his hand over the area he had slapped.
“Starts over” you all but whimper out looking at him with big doe eyes.
“Good girl” he said softly before letting another slap hit your ass. “Now start counting”
“1” the first (third) slap hard, his hand soothing it a bit before another smack.
“2” you groaned out eyes staring deep into each others gaze.
A few minutes had passed, with a whimper you kept going. “8.” Tears pricked at your face as you blinked the tears away.
“You gonna learn your lesson next time hm? Or are you gonna keep testing my patience.” He said another spank hitting your ass this time harder. The area was red, sensitive and getting sore. He normally did it on both sides but this was a sort of punishment he did when you were really bad.
“M’sorry sir, I didn’t-“ a louder yelp left your lips as another smack connected. “N-nine” you stuttered out.
“You didn’t what? Be a brat all day and then feel up my friend’s arms like a dirty little whore? You didn’t mean to do all that?” His voice was low but also a mocking tone. Another hard smack came down to your ass connecting with the sensitive spot once more.
“10!” You basically screamed. This slap the last one, was hard. Full of all the anger you had made him feel through the day. It stung, it hurt, it sure was gonna bruise. He ran his fingers over your ass looking down at your tear stained face. He spread your legs slightly running his fingers down your folds slowly. The sensation made your body jump, Not expecting it.
“You took your punishment so well, I’m proud” he said voice a bit softer than it had been. The slight pain dying down now you could feel how wet you were. He ran his fingers across your clit before pulling them away. You wanted to whine out but you knew it was a bad idea. So you bit your cheek trying to be good for him.
“Up” he said patting your ass, and you did so. You stared at him while he unbuckled his pants pulling everything down letting his cock slap back against him. He was rock hard, pre cum dripping from his tip. “Over the couch now.” He demanded.
You obeyed taking position, as soon as he made his way behind you he was already pushing into you. He gave you no time. No time to adjust and definitely no time to think. He was pounding into you mercilessly, balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed out. A string of curse words and grunts left his mouth as you moaned below him.
He gripped your hips harshly as his nails dug into the sensitive soft skin. You could feel his cock so deep into you, he was twitching already. He slapped your ass this time on the other cheek before bringing his hands up to wrap around your neck. “Tell me how much of a slut you are, tell me how you were probably bad cause you’re a needy whore and just want my attention. He growled.
“M’need- always need your attention. Always want all of you” he groaned. You could feel your legs becoming jelly. Your cunt squeeze around him. “G’onna cum!” You moaned out spit dripping down your chin.
“Did I say you could? You think you’ve deserve to cum?” He said as he took a chunk of your hair pulling it harshly. Your head came back where he could whisper into your ear. “Think I should let you?” He said almost a chuckle.
“Please sir I’m sorry- I- I’ll behave just- aah” you moaned out. Chan grinned as he pulled out before quickly flipping you over.
“You’re gonna keep eye contact with me until I cum got it? Then maybe I’ll let you cum” he said pushing himself back into you. His pace was fast he was hitting every spot inside you. Your body shook under him, in return making him laugh. “So pathetic” he said as his hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed small circles as he drilled into your eyes never leaving one another’s.
“Sir! Mm fuck- so good- only you. Only you make me feel so good.” You babbled out. You were seeing stars and so was Chan. His high washing over him faster than he thought it would. His cock pumped deep into you as he groaned. Hot liquid filling you to the brim as his movements start to stutter.
“Shit princess” he said he leaned down leaving sloppy kisses to you as he rubbed you clit. “Cum for me princess, I wanna watch you come undone from me” he groaned out. It didn’t take long for you to let go. Gushing all over his long cock as you arched your back.
“Thank you sir” you said panting out. “M’sorry for being bad” you said softly looking up at him.
“I know baby” he coo’d rubbing your head as he came down from his high. A few moments had passed before either of you said anything else, But you were the first one to break the silence.
“Chan” you said softly. “Chan! The recording sound was on! You recorded this whole-“ your eyes went wide looking at him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he just shrugged “maybe I’ll put it in a song” he said smiling at you as you rolled your eyes.
He cocked an eyebrow “attitude back already?” He teased making you pout “no..” you said softly “don’t worry baby I’m not done with this punishment yet, I think I got 2 more rounds in me” he said before kissing you as he wrapped his arms around you. Those 2 rounds? Yeah, turned into 1 more at the studio and 2 more at your house.
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💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat
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plistommy · 3 months
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Omega Steve who has never been knotted before.
He has only ever dated betas before, not really caring for alphas and they couldn’t give him that feeling of pure fullness.
But then, he meets Eddie. An alpha who’s too loud for his own good, but still surprisingly sweet and kind to Steve like no other alpha has been. And Steve?
He falls hard for the older boy and it doesn’t take long for him to start feeling slick dripping down his hole every time he even sees a glimpse of the alpha.
Steve knows Eddie smells it on him, how could he not, but the alpha doesn’t do anything.
He waits until Steve’s the first one to make the move, to kiss Eddie with so much hunger that Eddie finally lets his alpha instincts take over. He knots Steve for the first time ever and it makes the omega cry under him as he begs for the alpha to breed him.
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littlebirdy-bat · 2 months
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thinking about... waking up with Dick
Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room where the couple were soundly tangled up. Evidence of the night before came piles of tossed aside clothing spread across the floor.
Scrunching up my face, I buried it deeper into Dicks chest. Cold nose tucked against warm flesh. His arms wrapped tighter around me at my movements, seeming to pull me impossibly closer.
After a few minutes like this, I felt his chest vibrate as he broke the silence.
"Being half-asleep is a very good look on you."
Blinking to adjust to the bright morning, I met his gaze.
"And this flirty mood would have nothing to do with last night?"
With a deep rumbling in his chest he hums, "hmmm I think I need a reminder of last light."
Lazily flipping on top of me, he smiles down with a boyish grin.
"I think that can be arranged," I breath, fingers gliding into his raven locks, lowering his lips to mine.
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anintrovertedechoe · 8 months
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the way mammon loves you is so soft, so tender.
greed is loud and boisterous in his movements, confident in sure with every bold move he takes. gentleness is not in his nature when he is borne of celestial light, nor when his rebirth as an avatar of sin robs him of his purity.
greed’s soul was borne to keep, to hoard, to treasure. claws scraping over his jewels and snarls ripping through his teeth as he takes and takes and takes to abate his greed, soothe the burning sin entwined with his very being.
yet he loves so achingly. fingers tracing your skin like tissue paper about to rip at any second, voice soothing and light as he chatters about nothing and everything at the same time. pinky linking in yours loosely as to give you the choice to let go.
he is still mammon. rough and rowdy and boyish in his charms, ruffling your hair and roping you into one failed scheme after another, but there is also something else in him. something just for you.
greed growls and screeches and takes and takes and takes. but mammon snorts and laughs and has so much to give.
and with you, he is not greed. he is not an animalistic urge to possess.
with you, he is gentle. with you, he is mammon.
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epiclamer · 4 months
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Hiiiii Epic! I'm not sure if requests are open so if they aren't feel free to ignore!
My depression is getting bad again and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a depressed Hero who keeps purposefully putting themselves in harm's way, getting more and more reckless in every fight. Villain notices and has to save Hero from themselves. However they choose to do that, be it kidnapping or something less nefarious is totally up to you!
Hiya! I hope this makes your day a bit better!!
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Subtle
“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”
Villain huffed, “I think that’s my line.” They looked around, taking in their surroundings, calculating the amount of damage control they’d need to perform.
“If you’re here that means it’s bad.” Hero avoided the other’s gaze, glaring down at the hardwood floor beneath their feet instead.
“Does that make me the bearer of bad news?”
Hero shrugged, turning their back on the villain as they began to shuffle through the clutter of their home.
The criminal cleared their throat, resuming a bit more of an awkward stance as they watched their nemesis sift through piles of dirty clothes and dishes. “Unfortunately, if you were to bet that was the case, you’d be correct.”
Villain took a few steps forwards, keeping enough distance to assure the hero they weren’t a threat. When the other barely acknowledged them, Villain moved in closer—close enough to place a gentle hand against their bare shoulder. Normally they would’ve delighted in the shivers and twitches of their enemy’s skin under their palm, yet this time it felt more like a punishment than anything else.
“Did you use antiseptic?”
“Sorry?” The hero’s voice was strained like they were on the verge of tears.
“You’re burning up. I watched you take that beating for your sidekick and I know that Supervillain did a number on you in return.” Villain pulled their hand back, worried they were doing more harm than good. “Did you use antiseptic when you flushed your wounds? Or could they be infected?”
They were crying now, the villain could see it, tear drops hitting the wood floor one after the other. Still, the hero refused to look at them.
“Fuck, I don’t know, Villain. I didn’t even have time—I haven’t even checked—Fuck, I’m sick and I’m fucking exhausted and I-I’m bleeding all the time I’m bleeding its everywhere on my clothes and my sheets and my fucking everything, I’m so dirty—” Hero interrupted their ramble with a sob, curling in on themselves, leaving their previous mindlessly searching on hold.
Villain bent down, but they hesitated, taking a moment to scan their nemesis in their fetal position. Both of their hands grasped their head, protecting their skull from invisible blows, their knees tucked into their chest, shielding their vital organs from a relentless imaginary beating.
Even unconsciously the hero’s body accepted torture.
“I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it.” Rang sickeningly loud through the hero’s apartment. Words Villain never thought they’d hear their nemesis chant.
The hero was always so full of surprises.
“Breathe, Hero, breathe.” What the hell were they supposed to say? Sure, they had taken care of their nemesis prior, whenever it started to unravel for them, but never before had the crime-stopper broken down like this. “Everything is okay, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
Whatever was left of the hero’s facade shattered at that. They crumpled back against the villain—to which they were greeted with a warm embrace—tears uncontrollably streaming and sobs so hoarse they seemed inhuman.
Soundlessly, the villain pulled a pin-prick from their inner jacket pocket, carefully lining up the end of the needle with the hero’s exposed jugular vein. It felt wrong, to drug the one person they had come closer with than anyone ever before. But at the same time…
It was for their own good.
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emile-tb · 1 month
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SOMEBODY KILL THIS MAN (me)
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writingfreezer · 2 months
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you had been curious about his horns and tail, and dan heng was kind enough to let you touch them. what he didn’t anticipate was how intense the whole situation was about to become.
as your fingers delicately gracing his tail had slowly moved up to his base, his self-control had faltered with it. even though his tail was made out of mostly water, you somehow had found a way to squeeze around it to make dan heng shiver from the contact. you could see how he was biting his lower lip in order to keep the slutty moans that wanted to spill from his mouth to himself.
”does this feel good, babe?” you asked, voice sultry. your inner cheek was almost bleeding with how much you had bitten it in order to keep yourself from smirking at the sight in front of you. dan heng, the usually composed and quick-witted member of the astral express, had been reduced down to a pleading mess.
dan heng opened his mouth to speak but right before he was about to respond, your fingers curled and started scratching the base of his tail. the action made his back arch and he let out a high gasp that soon turned into a drawn-out moan. his eyes lulled to the back of his head and he flooped his head down on your shoulder.
panting, he tried to speak in his usual tone, ”plea- hah…. please, just, um… c-continue, please….” was all he could muster. the absolute desperation in his voice made a shiver run up your spine, and now both of you were biting your lips.
”oh? you like getting touched like this?” the answer was obvious enough that dan heng just settled for letting out a series of quiet moans. his forehead was still planted to your shoulder as he panted, and you snaked your free arm up to pull him close. he quickly pulled you into an embrace, snaking his tail around your waist, earning a soft chuckle out of you. his grip was tight, but not hurting. just perfect.
slowly, your hand left his back in favor of finding purchase at the hem of his pants. you tugged gently at it, giving him a warning, before diving your fingers under the fabric.
dan heng gasped and whimpered at what was to come. his hand moved down to hold your wrist as your fingers moved down, and more down, until you found the hem of his underwear. your scratching increased in pressure as your fingers dived under the next layer of fabric to meet his warm skin.
”please, be ge-” dan heng was cut off by a deep moan as your hand grabbed his cock and started pumping it without warning. this, combined with the scratching, made dan heng louder than he ever has been. it was a surprise no one on the express came barging in.
”i am gentle, now hush. let me take care of you…” you cooed softly into his ear as your pace on his hard appendage quickened. dan heng’s moans increased in pitch and his back arched into your chest, his grip on you tightening as much as he could. you could even feel his tail squeezing your waist, but that was irrelevant now.
as the vidyadhara in front of you continued to moan and plead, you couldn’t help but smirk. seeing dan heng so submissive kindled something inside of you, something that had never been kindled before in the span of your relationship. perhaps you should do this more often.
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zephyrchama · 5 months
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Mephisto has two toned hair in the back but ignore that for now and just imagine with me.: That famous scene with Hatsuharu in Fruits Basket, but Belphegor.
--
It was during a break between classes, and you were in the RAD corridor conversing with the twins, Simeon, and Luke. An upcoming exam made you all feel apprehensive, so it was a fine time to discuss forming a study group
Mephistopheles lurked nearby, eyeing your group as if everyone had just rolled in fresh manure. It was hard to ignore. You waved him over, beckoning for him to join the conversation.
He strided up pompously. The first word out of his mouth was "inexcusable."
The twins already looked fed up as Mephistopheles wasted no time pointing his cane at the youngest.
"Bleaching your hair? Have you no shame?"
Belphegor blinked twice, batting the cane out of his face. "What?"
"You're dragging down the Royal Academy of Diavolo's reputation with your inane fashion choices. Did you even think to consider how this is going to reflect on our lord?"
"What are you on about? This is my natural hair color."
"Ha! Can you prove to me, without a doubt, that your hair is its natural color?" Mephistopheles had an insufferable smirk plastered across his face as he publicly challenged Belphegor.
"If I have to," he sighed. It was obvious this situation would drag out indefinitely unless it was resolved right away.
"This should be rich! As if you could provide undeniable proof of such-- ghh!" The noble was cut-off mid-sentence as Belphegor roughly grabbed his jacket.
"Hey, wait! How dare you!"
Mephistopheles' protests grew muffled as he was dragged into the nearest bathroom. There were several seconds of silence where you exchanged confused glances with everyone, followed by an ear-splitting shout. It echoed down the hall, causing students to stop and stare.
Belphegor emerged smugly, calmly returning to his place between you and Beelzebub. Mephistopheles soon followed, covering his flushed face with a shaking gloved hand. "Impressive evidence."
He looked traumatized. Obviously bested, he turned on his heel to leave. "I admit defeat for today, but next time you won't be so lucky."
Once the clicking of his polished shoes faded away, Luke asked the question on your mind. "What did you do in the bathroom to prove your hair color?"
"You'll figure it out later, Luke." As always, Simeon was quick to make sure nobody spoiled the boy's innocence, despite the little angel's disappointment.
You were equally confused though. "You won't tell us?"
Belphegor leaned over, cupping your face and trailing a finger over your cheek. "Hm? You really want to know?" He chuckled, "want me to show you, too?"
"It's time for class." No sooner did Beelzebub say that than the next bell rang, and your attendance was required back in the classroom.
"I'll show you later."
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newfoundstateof · 3 months
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but she fell in love with an english man | b.b. x reader
summary: Academy friends drag Benedict to a tavern to watch Irish fiddle player!reader perform. He buys her a drink. But who can play a fiddle and drink a pint at the same time?
word count: 1.2k
warnings: suggestive but none
a/n: definitely not inspired by those tiktoks of dirty talk bar maids at ren faires, who said that???
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“They are spectacular,” Rupert Norton declared with an arm slung over Benedict’s shoulder.
The rest of the Royal Academy students hummed in agreement. Already drunk from the party they left minutes ago, a small group of them stumbled down the cobbled streets of Soho. Earlier that night, news broke that a band that visited a few weeks before Benedict enrolled at the Academy had returned to much anticipation. In an instant, pipes were dropped, coats were gathered, and boots were marching to The Intrepid Fox tavern.
“They’re from Ireland,” someone said.
“I’ve never danced so much in my life,” another added.
“And the fiddle player is quite easy on the eyes,” Rupert slurred into Benedict’s ear. “Try and buy her a drink if you can. That usually gets her attention.”
Benedict laughed. “I’m just here to enjoy the music. As should all of you scoundrels.”
Once inside the tavern, a few of the men beelined to the bar to order whiskey shots for the fiddle player despite the empty stage in the corner. Benedict simply took a seat at the bar, observing the growing crowd. The band’s reputation must have preceded them, as he was soon shoulder to shoulder with the eager fans. But for the next twenty minutes, only chatter filled the room.
“They always like to keep you waiting,” Rupert grumbled into his ale. “But it’s worth it, I promise.”
“I don’t mind,” Benedict smiled. “It’s good people watch-”
The room erupted into cheering, and he turned toward the stage. Sure enough, two men climbed the small wooden platform. One carried a fiddle, the other a flute. The room roared even louder when you emerged with your fiddle, waving a good-natured hand to the audience. Your smile was wide and disarming. Your gaze was equally piercing. Looking at the gleam in your eyes, Benedict knew just how aware you were of your control over the room. Soon the clapping died down, and every soul waited with bated breath to what you would say.
A scrawny kitchen hand hurried up to you and set a tray of shots down on a small barrel.
“Wow,” you breathed. “All this for little old me?”
Benedict found himself chuckling with everyone. As you threw a shot back, his stomach dropped. You were certainly not like the young ladies of the ton. 
“This crowd is mighty impressive, isn’t it, boys?” you asked your bandmates as you all started tuning your instruments. “We appreciate you for coming out. If you don’t know us already, the lad on the flute is Johnny. My fellow friend on the fiddle is Patrick. And I’m Y/N. I have a favor to ask of you all… From now until the last of you sorry lot leave this building, I hereby decree this an Irish pub! That means we will be clapping along to the songs, singing if you know the words, and if you are so inclined, I would love to see some dancing tonight.”
Someone in the audience whistled, evoking more cheers.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” you grinned.
The trio launched into Seven Drunken Nights, a popular jig even Benedict knew. Though his classmates were rowdily singing along, he could only stare at you. Johnny and Patrick generally kept to their places on stage, but you swayed across, drawing your bow theatrically compared to Patrick’s controlled movements. He was the main vocalist, but during the wife’s lines in the song, you sang with the crowd. 
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly ol’ fool. Still, you cannot see, that’s a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me!”
Benedict couldn’t decide if you were a better fiddle player or singer, you were impeccable at both. But without a doubt, you were the best at simply putting on a show. You encouraged people to dance along as you skipped across the stage. Benedict could only imagine how taxing it was for you. Dancing, singing, and playing an instrument all while not breaking a sweat. He eyed the tray of shots, turned to the nearest bartender, and ordered something more refreshing for you.
As you strung out the last note of Seven Drunken Nights, the same kitchen hand ran the mug of beer up to your tray. You sighed to yourself.
“Which one of you did this?” you cried out, lifting the mug high.
Heads spun every which way. Benedict froze. Was liquor the only appropriate drink to tip a musician? He wasn’t sure, he’d never been to something like this. Awkwardly, he coughed and raised his hand.
Your eyes found him in the sea of faces, and you smirked. “Don’t be shy, come here!”
 Rupert clapped Benedict on the back. “Don’t screw this up, Bridgerton. She might go home with you tonight.”
Though he had been with many women and dangerously close with a few men, you still intimidated him somehow. Nothing intimate had been on his mind before Rupert’s comment, but now his heart skipped a few beats at just the thought of it. Benedict snaked through the crowd, trying to read the expression on your face. But all you looked was smug, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you poured the ale on his head. 
“Finally,” you breathed as he stood before you. “One of you buys a lady a real drink!”
He exhaled in relief.
“I’m afraid I’m quite thirsty though,” you pout, getting down on one knee. The stage was barely a foot off the ground, putting your face directly in front of Benedict’s wide shoulders. “And we need to get on with the next song, but I don’t have enough hands. Would you help me, good sir?”
Without waiting for his response, you shoved the drink in his hands and looked up to the ceiling. Before Benedict could blink, you were poising your instrument and drawing out a note with your bandmates following suit.
“We’re lucky I don’t sing in this one,” you smile, giving him a pointed look. “Get on with it, now. I’m parched.”
Never one to argue with a lady, Benedict slowly tilted the rim of the glass to your lips and poured the liquid steadily down your throat. You looked up through your lashes at him, daring him to look away. But he didn’t. Only when some of the ale dripped down your chin and onto your bodice did his gaze break yours.
“Should I stop?” he asked.
You shook your head, “No,” as much as you could with your lips around the glass.
As you neared the last dregs, your head tilted back more and more to get it all. The eroticism of it all was not lost on Benedict, especially as you swallowed the last gulp and moaned audibly. The growing friction in the front of his pants was no help. But once the glass was finished, you rose to your feet and sent him off with a wink. As you spun to the other side of the stage, the hem of your skirt brushed his groin and he mindlessly reached for the fabric. But you were gone. In a trance, Benedict walked backward to his friends at the bar, adjusting himself. 
“Has she done that before,” he coughed.
“I’ve never seen that before,” Rupert crowed. “And I’ve seen them perform at least five times since I started at the Academy.”
“You’ve got to talk to her after, Bridgerton,” someone urged.
“Can I come along?” a voice teased.
“You’re the luckiest bastard on earth right now,” another sighed.
Across the room, you caught him starring and blew him a quick kiss.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Luckiest bastard on earth.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years
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“Steve! We have to go!”
“I’m coming!” He yelled back to Robin, still searching through his closet for the pants he planned for their night out. “Where the hell are they?”
He was throwing things out of the way, not caring where they landed.
That was a problem for future Steve.
Current Steve needed to look as hot as possible.
His dry spell would be over tonight. He wasn’t leaving the bar until it was.
“Steve!”
“Robin! Where are the jeans?”
“What jeans?”
“The jeans! The ones that you told me to wear!”
“Didn’t you wear them yesterday?”
“No! I saved them!”
But Steve looked over at his laundry basket where his shirt was hanging over and the pair of jeans he was looking for peeked through.
He did wear them yesterday.
Fuck.
Okay, back up options.
The dark jeans that actually probably belonged to someone else and didn’t fit his thighs right? No, he needed to show off his thighs.
The light jeans he hadn’t worn in at least a year because there was a questionable stain that wouldn’t come out? Well, it would be dark in the bar, but no. He’d know about it.
The jeans he wore earlier that weren’t special but also weren’t bad? How would that help him get laid? No.
So he looked back the jeans in his hamper, ignoring Robin’s angry yelling from outside his door.
“Found them! Two minutes!”
He put on the jeans, hoping they didn’t smell or have any stains on them.
He ignored Robin as he threw on his coat that was hanging on the back of the couch and ignored the dull headache blossoming across his temples.
He opened the door and started to leave.
“You coming?” He asked over his shoulder, laughing when Robin smacked his arm as she passed by him.
“Don’t act like you’re waiting on me. I’ve been waiting on you for 30 minutes!”
They barely spoke on the way to the bar, Robin already sensing his headache and probably hoping the silence would make it better before the night got started.
She was amazing.
Steve couldn’t live without her.
But hopefully, they’d both find someone tonight. They needed it.
— — — —
Steve wasn’t having any luck. In fact, he’d never had worse luck.
His head was pounding at this point, music much louder than usual, more people crowded around his usual spot. The three men and one woman he’d danced with so far were fun, but not really his type. He’d been a little upset about seemingly wasting his time, but swallowed down the bitter feeling when he saw Robin dancing with the same girl for three songs, huge smile on her face.
At least one of them was getting something from tonight.
He stood at the far corner of the bar, trying to be out of the way as best he could. He needed to have some water, but he knew the bartender wouldn’t be pleased about getting pulled away from actual paying customers. He would wait for a lull and then get his attention.
It was a new guy, or at least one who didn’t normally work the shifts Steve was here. He was pretty.
There was no other way to describe him; long, curly hair, tattoos everywhere, wide Bambi eyes, tall and thin frame that still held hidden muscle. Steve’s dream, really.
Too bad his vision was getting blurry from the headache.
He had to reevaluate his plan and get water now before he went into full migraine territory. He couldn’t pull Robin away from her night just because he had to get home safely with a debilitating migraine.
He started trying to wave to the bartender anytime he looked over towards Steve’s end of the bar, but it didn’t work.
He tried yelling over the crowd and music, but it ended up making his head throb worse.
He finally managed to throw a napkin at him when he was standing a few feet away.
Not his finest moment, but he’d apologize when he had water.
The bartender looked over at him with raised brows.
“Need something?”
Steve couldn’t help the shame he felt about literally everything happening at that moment.
“Water please?”
The bartender nodded once and grabbed a cup to fill with ice and water. Steve felt some of his muscles relax knowing that he was going to be able to hydrate a little.
When he placed it in front of Steve, he slid a small cup of lemons with it.
“Squeeze a little in there. Helps with headaches.”
Steve knew he was looking at Eddie like the sun shone out of his ass. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so dreadfully miserable from the almost-migraine.
“Thanks.” Then he realized how shitty he must look if the bartender knew what was going on from just looking at him. “Wait. How’d you know?”
“My uncle gets them bad. He always gets pale and his eyes get bloodshot when one’s coming. You looked in the mirror lately?”
Steve shook his head, then winced at the way it made his head pound.
“You here with someone?”
“Yeah. She’s dancing.”
“Need me to have an announcement made for her?”
“No, let me drink this first.”
The bartender nodded, but Steve noticed he kept checking on him between serving other drinks to people.
Steve used more lemon than he probably should have, but he had a whole cup of it, and it couldn’t hurt to use more.
He rested his head against the wall next to him, wincing at the excessive vibrations from the music.
Normally, he loved that their hole in the wall bar got loud and fun once a week. Tonight, he wished he could be surrounded by silence.
He knew he was getting worse, but he didn’t want to bother Robin, who was still dancing with the same girl. She’d probably go home with her as long as Steve didn’t interrupt.
He felt a hand on his forehead, slowly brushing sweaty hair away. He tried opening his eyes, but even the small amount of light seeping through his eyelids was too much.
“Hey, I’m Eddie. I’m the bartender. My relief just walked in so I’m gonna help you to the back, okay?”
Steve could barely nod, the pain in his head throbbing down his jaw and neck. He reached his hand towards the voice and managed to make contact with Eddie. Hopefully, Eddie understood he was not gonna be able to do anything helpful at this point.
He felt an arm around his waist, guiding him away from the bar, but Steve still didn’t want to try opening his eyes. He had to trust Eddie.
He should’ve stayed home. He knew the dull pain he felt earlier would turn into worse, but he was so stuck on getting in bed with someone, he came anyway.
Eddie was walking slowly, keeping a firm grip on Steve so he wouldn’t jostle him around too much. Maybe if Steve weren’t getting his brain attacked by hammers and knives, he’d be trying to get Eddie in bed.
That thought came and went though as he realized how pitiful it was that a grown man couldn’t even walk himself home because he had a migraine.
Eddie would probably tell this incredibly embarrassing story to everyone here and laugh about it for weeks.
Steve was in and out of it for the next few minutes, unable to really focus on anything around him besides the warm hand on his hip. Despite being sweaty enough to wring water from his shirt, he still felt cold, shivers occasionally wracking his body.
This was a really bad one.
He was so stupid for being stuck in a bar for this.
His brain registered a door closing, then a fan turning on. It wasn’t completely silent, but the outside noise was a small echo in his brain compared to the banging it had been previously.
“Gonna set you on the couch in the corner and get some ice.”
Steve didn’t acknowledge him, but he let out the most ridiculous whimper when Eddie set him down on the couch, slowly laying him back so his whole body was flat. He heard the door open and close, but was so focused on how nice the air from the fan felt, he didn’t hear the door open and close when Eddie came back in.
“Alright, gonna put this on your head. Where’s it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
Eddie sighed, but placed the bag of ice on his forehead to start.
“Get these often?”
Steve appreciated his very low voice, knowing that anything at a regular volume would probably be too much in this quiet room.
“Mhm.”
“I grabbed you more water too. Think you can have a sip?”
“Mm. No.”
He heard Eddie laughing quietly, but he couldn’t smile back at him.
“You live close?”
“Mhm. Mile.”
“I live closer.”
“Hm?”
“Welcome to my humble abode. I own the bar, work at the bar, and live at the bar. Technically this is the staff office, but upstairs is my bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. If you think you can handle the stairs, you can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’ll let your friend know you’re here too if you give me a name.”
“Steve.”
“Your friend’s name is Steve?”
“No. Mine.”
“Okay, what’s your friend’s name, Steve?”
“Robin.”
He tried opening his eyes so he could see his surroundings, but they were so heavy. Leave it to Steve to end up suffering with the worst migraine he’s had all year at a bar with a hot bartender taking care of him and he can’t even open his eyes to fully appreciate it.
He distantly heard the door again, but must’ve fallen asleep for a bit because the next thing he knew, he felt hands on his face.
“You’re sure he can stay here?”
“Robs?”
“Steve. You idiot. You should’ve told me it was getting worse.”
She was whispering, but she was angry with him and he knew she would be yelling if she was a worse friend.
“Sorry.”
“Eddie’s gonna handle it. I’m gonna take Chrissy home. You call me as soon as you’re up, got it? I’ll send the cops here to break down the doors if I don’t hear by lunch time tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
He was gonna forget, but hopefully Eddie would remind him.
When he had bad migraines, he pretty much forget everything he did or said. None of the doctors could explain it. He’d had scans done, and there were no signs of memory diseases, so it was just a part of the trauma from multiple concussions.
He could hear Robin telling Eddie the same thing. If he could make his face work, he’d probably smile.
He drifted again, but he could hear Robin still talking to Eddie as he did.
The next time he was fully aware, he was in a bed. The bed was huge, and there were so many pillows around him, it felt like a fort.
Two blankets were on top of him, one so soft he couldn’t help rubbing his cheek against it. He was surrounded by a cozy, light cologne smell.
He was also fully clothed.
His jeans were itchy, and he suddenly felt claustrophobic as he realized the sun was up and he was alone in a stranger’s bed.
He sat up and looked around.
The room itself wasn’t that big, the bed taking up most of the space. The door was closed, but he could hear someone moving around outside of it. He looked to the right to see a door that must lead to a bathroom.
He quickly got out of the bed, shoving his shoes on and grabbing his wallet off the table. He opened the door and saw the back of a man with long, curly hair.
The bartender.
Eddie.
Eddie had taken care of him during his migraine. His migraine that he should’ve known was coming and stayed the hell home.
He was an idiot.
When Eddie turned around, he felt his heart stop.
God, he was pretty.
Like, Steve might have to change up the nights he comes to the bar just to get a glimpse of this beautiful man.
“Hey. Feeling better? Must be since you’re standing without support.”
Steve blushed. He’d never been in this position before, and he had no idea what the proper etiquette is for thanking someone for taking care of you when you’re unable to even move or talk.
“Uh. Yeah, much better. Um.” Steve awkwardly stood by the counter while Eddie continued mixing coffee in a mug. “Thanks for. All that.”
Eddie was laughing. In another circumstance, Steve may have found it cute, maybe been proud of himself for making a hot guy laugh.
But he was dealing with a migraine hangover, which usually left him grumpy.
Eddie must’ve noticed because he stopped laughing abruptly.
His head tilted to the side as he looked Steve up and down.
“You know, Robin called four times already this morning to check on you. You should probably call her and let her know I didn’t murder you and hide the body already.”
“Okay. Yeah. I.” He felt around in his pockets and couldn’t feel his phone. Shit.
“Over there. Charging.” Eddie said as he pointed towards the table by his front door.
“Thanks.”
Steve walked over to his phone to see 33 missed calls from Robin.
He called her back immediately, not wanting her to actually show up with a SWAT team.
“Thank god! Steve, I told you to call by lunch. I was just about to call Hop.”
“You’re the one who left me here.”
“Yes, assuming you’d wake up early enough that I wouldn’t assume you’ve been murdered!”
“What time is it?”
“Almost 3:00, Steve!”
“Fuck. Okay. I’m leaving now.”
Eddie cleared his throat and nodded at the counter, which now had a plate of fried eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage on it.
“Okay I’m eating, then I’m leaving.”
“You better text me. I’ll show up with Hop!”
“Robin. Jesus.” Steve felt a bit lightheaded. “I am literally at the bar. You know where I am and who I’m with. Chill.”
“You were incapacitated.”
“And now I’m not. I can escape if I have to.”
“You’re not as strong as you think you are!”
He hung up before she kept going. She would stay on the phone for hours if he let her, and he wasn’t in the mood.
He made his way to the counter and sat down, smiling at the steaming food.
“You didn’t have to cook all this. Especially this late in the afternoon. You probably have to head down to the bar.”
“Nah. I own the place. I just work there to keep myself busy. I’m all yours until you’re good to go home.”
Steve didn’t have much of a response for that, his brain still firing on the bare minimum. Migraine hangovers were worse than actual hangovers.
He ate a few bites silently, then looked up to see Eddie setting a cup of tea in front of him.
“What’s this?”
“Technically, sleepy time tea. But it works really well for headaches.”
“Oh. Thanks. It won’t like, make me fall asleep?”
Eddie laughed and Steve decided he was happy to hear it now.
“No. It has relaxing properties to it, but it doesn’t actually make you drowsy.”
Steve took a few small sips and smiled.
“It’s good.”
“My uncle says I make the best.” Eddie leaned over the counter with a smile. “So, you thought going to a bar was a good idea with a headache? On our DJ night?”
“It wasn’t that bad when I left. Thought I’d be okay.”
“Mhm. So you get these a lot?”
“Well. I mean I do get migraines a lot. But that one was one of the worst I’ve had in a while. I can usually still talk and walk enough to get to my own bed.”
“Do you remember everything?”
Steve knew he had a lot of blank spots in his memory from last night. If Eddie wasn’t such a nice guy, he’d probably be more worried about it.
“No. I have memory problems when I get them.”
“Ah. Well that’s okay. I got you into bed pretty easily. You only woke up twice. Once to use the bathroom, which you managed to do alone. The second time you were crying about having to sleep alone? I couldn’t understand all of it, but that seemed to be the gist.”
“Oh.” Steve sighed. “That’s super embarrassing. Guess I’ll never come back here. Maybe never leave my house again.”
Eddie smirked. “I dunno. I think maybe I could fix the sleeping alone thing. You know, when you’re not incapacitated from a migraine.”
“You’re serious?”
Eddie nodded.
“You saw me like that and would actually want to be around me again?”
“I was hoping for more than around you. Maybe on you? In you? Next to you? All of those sound good.”
Steve choked on his next bite.
“Uh.”
He took a sip of the tea to help clear his throat, ignoring the way Eddie was moving around the counter.
“You know, Robin kept me on the phone for about an hour earlier, telling me all about how you’re the best guy she’s ever known and she’s a lesbian for a reason so that means a lot. Said you guys come here once a week because it’s the best place to find decent people, not just anyone. Said you’ve both had a bit of a dry spell.”
“She’s exaggerating.”
“Oh, so it hasn’t been eight months since you’ve taken someone home?”
“No.”
Eddie’s eyebrows raised in a challenge.
“It’s been ten.”
“My bar hasn’t been good to you, I guess.”
“Up until last night, I guess not. But I still prefer it over the clubs.”
“Until last night?”
“Yeah. The guy who owns the place kind of rescued me and let me sleep in his really comfy bed. He probably deserves something for that.”
“Oh? What does he deserve?”
“Well, I’d offer a blowjob, but I’m out of practice and might disappoint.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“But maybe he’d be okay with a real date?”
“When would this date be?”
“Maybe tonight?”
“Hm. He has to check the bar schedule, make sure no one needs coverage.”
“He can text me later to confirm.”
“I sure hope you’re giving me your number to do that.”
Steve laughed and held his hand out. Eddie placed his phone in his hand and waited for him to type his name and number in his contacts.
When Steve handed it back, their hands grazed each other. Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, squeezing for a moment.
“Dinner here? Maybe 8?”
“I thought you had to check the schedule.”
“Nah, just needed your number. I make the schedule, I know it like the back of my hand.”
Steve shook his head.
“Can’t start a relationship on lies.”
“Oh, a relationship? You move quick don’t you.”
Steve did. He knew he did. It’s why he’d never been able to keep anyone around. He moved like he was ready for marriage on the first date, and usually people didn’t like that.
He looked down at his lap, already prepared to lose Eddie’s interest.
But he felt a hand on his cheek, slowly guiding him to look up.
“Dinner here at 8?”
“Uh. Yeah. Please.”
Eddie smirked at him before he placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Just be yourself, Steve. I like you just fine. And I’ve already seen you at your worst and your crazy best friend. It’s all uphill from here.” Eddie pulled away and moved back to start cleaning dishes from his cooking. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up married by the end of the year.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Am I?”
Eddie looked over his shoulder, serious look on his face.
“Are you?”
“No. Stranger things have happened.”
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chaot1c0 · 11 months
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what abt gojo who's rlly famous ..
streamer!gojo x reader
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Satoru would have no problem inviting you over during one of his streams- as long as you don't disturb him at all. you'd probably just sit there in the background, out of view. and probably stifle your giggles since Satoru's chat seems to make fun of him every once in a while.
Satoru doesn't realize it at first, but he's hopelessly in love with you. that probably explains the reason why he keeps inviting you over during his streams and nobody else.
Satoru will pout whenever you're not looking at him and his stream, and will probably do the stupidest shit ever to get your attention back on him.
as per usual Satoru behavior, he's going to try his best to impress you. and I mean his absolute best. He'll basically be so focused on a game if he knows you're watching and giving him your full attention.
if there are days where you can't make it, obviously Satoru's going to be pouty. his whole chat would be asking him what's wrong and he'd brush it off, but still be pouty despite his whole chat pestering him.
if you can't make it, obviously you're going to watch Satoru's stream from any of your devices. most of the time you'll comment on his stream saying hi, and that'd instantly light up Satoru's whole day. like he'd actually stop pouting and get to impressing [ or at least trying .. ] you.
Satoru will also let you play on his computer off stream either before or after. he'd lean on his own chair- the one you're sitting on, letting his arms hang loosely around your shoulders. he'd also compliment you and tease you.
Satoru's the one to actually introduce the idea of you playing with him on stream. this is probably his attempt at spending more time with you [ it works, somehow ].
Satoru gets jealous whenever people compliment you and try to flirt with you. and even though his whole chat is practically spamming 'you're jealous,' he'd still deny it and say he's only 'looking out for you.'
one time, there was a comment where someone asked if you two were dating. it was only then that Satoru realized his feelings for you. even though he said you two weren't dating, when you weren't looking, he almost responded with 'I wish we were.'
Satoru probably has trouble sleeping or thinking straight now [ our poor baby :( ]. he'd be thinking about you 24/7. at night he just yearns to be dating you, to hold you, to kiss you. all that romantic stuff. sometimes it drives him insane, the constant need to at least see you, and sometimes he ends up calling you at night, with the excuse of 'being bored.'
you two eventually end up together after Satoru gathers the balls to confess.
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I think I'll be writing on the weekends only and I'll try writing for other characters [ I won't- I only wanna write for gojo tbh ]
this has been on my mind for so long ..
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aphroditelovesu · 4 months
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Wedding Gifts
❝commission: a drabble that has a 'newly wed' theme. My specifications are that it begins with Y/n waking up after her wedding night and involved the wedding gifts Alexander gives her in some way. Basically, something that outlines how her relationship with him has been so far. — requested by 💻 anon.
❝ 📜 — lady l: this is really sweet honestly and I loved writing it! I hope you like it and if there are any mistakes, forgive me. :)
❝tw: none, pure fluff.
❝📜pairing: soft!yandere alexander the great x female!reader.
❝word count: 945.
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When you opened your eyes that morning, you felt more refreshed than ever. The bed was empty, indicating that Alexander had woken up earlier and gone about his duties. You didn't mind, though.
Yawning, you noticed that the camp seemed more active than ever. Outside your tent, one could hear the shouts and heated voices of soldiers and their generals. When you moved, you couldn't help the pained groan you let out after a sting of pain spread through your lower parts.
You had almost forgotten that this was the day after your wedding night. Almost.
Carefully, you removed the heavy blanket and placed your bare feet on the cold tent floor, feeling more rested than ever. There were days when you didn't sleep so well and, as much as you still had difficulty recognizing it, last night with Alexander had brought you more peace than your last few weeks.
You didn’t want to admit it but Alexander brought you comfort and a peace that you knew you desperately needed. Taking a deep breath, you slowly stood up, trying to ease the pain. The memory of last night brought a faint smile to your lips.
When you got up from the bed, you felt the cold of the packed earth floor of the tent and shivered slightly. You leaned on a small wooden table nearby and noticed something that hadn't been there the night before. On the table rested three carefully arranged gifts, each wrapped in fine fabric that reminded you of silk and adorned with a simple but elegant ribbon.
Curious, you walked over and started undoing the ties one by one. The first gift revealed a luxuriously soft wool cloak, red as blood, clearly made by the finest craftsmen. The vibrant color of the cloak contrasted with the austere environment of the camp, and when you touched it, you felt a comforting warmth spread throughout your body.
The second gift was a small carved wooden box, and when you opened it, you found a jewel of rare beauty. A gold necklace with a star-shaped pendant, encrusted with small precious stones that sparkled in the morning light. You recognized the piece as a symbol of protection, common among nobles, and felt honored and protected when you placed it around your neck.
Finally, the third gift was a rolled up parchment. With anxious fingers, you undid the wax seal and read the message written in Alexander's firm handwriting:
"My beloved, may this cloak warm you in my absence, may this necklace remind you of my constant protection, and may these words bring you the certainty of my eternal love. Our union is the promise of a future of peace and happiness. With Love, Alexander."
You felt a rush of emotions as you read Alexander's words. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding the parchment close to your heart. Your mind revisited moments from the night before, and a feeling of gratitude and affection grew inside you. Alexander, even though he was away that morning, had thought of every detail to ensure you felt loved and protected.
He clearly cared more about you than he let on.
Wrapped in the cloak, with the necklace around your neck and the parchment tucked away with care, you felt ready to face the day. As you emerged from the tent, the frenetic activity of the camp seemed a little more distant, as if a bubble of peace had been created around you. With a smile on your lips, you began to look for Alexander, wanting to thank him for the gifts.
The environment around you was filled with frenetic activity — soldiers training, tents being set up and taken down, supplies being distributed.
As you walked through the camp, the feeling that maybe marrying Alexander wasn't such a bad thing began to take shape in your thoughts. Every step you took was accompanied by curious and respectful looks from the soldiers, and you realized that your status had changed significantly.
You really were a Queen now and although that title sounded strange to you, somehow it felt right.
The soldiers stopped what they were doing to bow their heads towards you, a sign of respect that was still new to you. It was a powerful feeling, you felt powerful.
Alexander's gifts were not only displays of affection, but also clear signs of your position and importance beside him. That luxurious cloak, the precious necklace, and even the words on the parchment showed that he cared deeply for you and wanted you to feel valued and safe. He cared about you. Maybe he even loved you.
Arriving at the King's tent, you found Alexander in the middle of an argument with his generals. He looked imposing, with his armor shining in the shadow and his steady voice giving precise orders. When his eyes met yours, a soft smile formed on his lips, and he motioned for them to wait while he approached you.
"I see you found my gifts." Alexander said softly, his voice low and full of tenderness, contrasting with the authoritative tone he used with his men, "I hope they pleased you."
You nodded, feeling the heat spread across your face, "Yes, Alexander. They're wonderful. Thank you."
He took your hand and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss, "I'm glad you liked it. I wanted you to feel special and safe, even when I'm not around."
Alexander’s words filled you with a comfortable warmth and you smiled even wider at the realization of them.
Maybe... Just maybe, marrying him wasn't such a bad thing.
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plistommy · 4 months
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Tommy being the first one to fuck Steve, to know how Steve sounds like when he pushes his dick inside the other’s tight and warm heat. How Steve whines for Tommy’s names and holds his hand when he moves.
Then came Nancy, and after that once they weren’t friends anymore, came Eddie.
Tommy had been jealous about Steve dating Nancy, but oh he was livid when another man had Steve, Eddie Munson specifically.
He wished he would’ve tried harder. Kept Steve as his own, but the boy had gotten out of his grip and turned into a beautiful man, who now had a freak by his side taking the things from him that Tommy wanted to.
Just the idea of Steve moaning Eddie’s name while the older man fucked him made Tommy ill.
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lookinghalfacorpse · 1 year
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/dsmp /rp
cuddling with dream and the many possibilities, scenarios, and obstacles you may encounter. don't let him read this. a guide by technoblade.
i'm about to blow your minds with how complex this is. i'm a master at my art (sleeping), alright? i'm an experienced craftsman (at sleeping), i perform at my best in all locations (with naps, mostly) (yes, even in the obsidian box), and i'm very good at cuddling. i'm practically built for it. i would never, ever think about writing a guide about how to cuddle with philza minecraft (or anyone else, really), but this squirmy little guy is different.
-the best approach is the Sudden Drop. walk over to him, no matter what he's doin, and just drop onto him and stay there. spare no body weight. he'll probably think it's a bit funny, and that's why it's the best one. he's more likely to humor something if it's a good bit, and having a giant piglin treat you like a sofa cushion is a GREAT bit. he'll laugh.
-(the second best approach is when he's upset or panicking or crying, and you can see him grabbing onto himself. normally that means... idk, that he wants held? Or he wants to hold something? i'll sit down, slowly, and wrap 'im up. he'll latch onto me. hard. fingers twisting my fur-- the whole nine yards)
-otherwise, he's shy with his hands. a few times now, i've grabbed his hands and put them somewhere on me because he was just, like, hovering them awkwardly. like, cmon, man. i'm laying my whole body on you, what part of your hands do you think is gonna bother me.
-but, come to think of it, sometimes he's afraid of my hands, too. if i move them in the middle of the night. if i lay them somewhere sensitive, like his sides or the small of his back.
-another scenario: he might approach me, too. i thought it'd never happen. you know that feeling with the stray dog is finally close enough to sniff your hand and you stay super still so you don't scare it? That's how i felt. he normally just walks over and leans on my shoulder, and i still can't tell if that's all he wants or if he's asking me for a better cuddle. more experimentation is needed here.
-location is key! in all scenarios, near the wall is best. i think of myself as a secondary wall and kinda close him in- if sam were lookin', he'd only see me.
-(he's so little. he's SO little. was he always this thin? i'm gonna crush the kid.)
-expect the unexpected. sometimes he'll hit you. sometimes he'll start to cry, and sometimes that means you need to let him go, and sometimes that means you need to hold tighter. it's complicated. but everyone needs it, especially dudes bein tortured in a box, so it's worth the effort.
-(sometimes i need it, too. i'll admit it, i'm scared.)
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eddiesghxst · 1 year
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period sex with eddie would be so ughhh😩
no bc let’s talk abt it fr
18+ — MINORS DNI
————
he loves how sensitive you are around that time. loves how you visibly twitch, wriggle, and quiver more than usual because every inch of you is just so fucking sensitive.
loves to have your thighs split open wide so he can watch as he sinks his cock into your tight cunt, loves that you feel hot and so much fucking wetter this way.
he loves to rub his thumb over your aching clit, to teasingly coo at you when you squirm and whine, thighs twitching to close around his hips because, “s’so much, eds.” “yeah?“ he hums when you helplessly nod and squeeze your eyes shut. “you know what to say if it’s too much, princess,” leaning forward to press wet sloppy kisses against your jaw before panting in your ear, “come on, you’re doing so good, sucking me in like you’re fucking made for it.”
and he loves to lick and suck and kiss at your tits, fingers gently digging into your sides as he mouths at your sensitive nipples, taut and hard beneath the working flick of his tongue. he loves to moan against your skin and tell you how good you feel, how gorgeous you are, how pretty your tits look when they’re all puffy from your time of the month.
and he fucking loves it when you cum. loves how whiney you are, how your face pinches in overwhelming pleasure, how you pulse and squeeze around him. he loves the sight he sees when he looks down to watch as he fucks you through it, wet and messy and bright red.
loves it when you tell him to cum inside you, all breathy and fucked out and begging him like it’s the only thing you’ll ever need.
and he loves to press himself deep into you when he cums, moans at the way you continue pulsing around him, milking him to the last drop. he loves the way your palms press against his lower tummy when he begins to pull out, both of you watching in awe as the pink milky mix seeps out of you. he tells you how pretty your pussy looks, all messy and colorful “like a pretty little painting, all for me.” and you whine and cover your face with your hands and he laughs and presses kisses against your skin.
and eddie just loves you
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