#i kept forgetting to do this but its done now!
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sofiasworld00 · 2 days ago
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A Birthday To Remember
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Jude Bellingham x reader
Summary: on her birthday he surprises her with the trip of her dreams.
Warnings: fluff, some spice.
Word count: 5k (i think)
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The day started with a sigh. Your eyes fluttered open to a pale wash of sunlight spilling into the room, the familiar warmth of the duvet cocooning you. It was your birthday. While the dozens of messages on your phone from friends and family made you smile, the absence of a specific text stung a little.
Jude.
He’d kissed you goodnight the previous evening, mumbling something about an early start for training. But there’d been no hint, no small indication that he’d remembered. You bit your lip, trying not to let disappointment creep in. Jude was busy—his world spun fast, and you were used to its demands. Yet, today of all days, you’d hoped for something.
With a sigh, you got up and began your day. Breakfast was simple, your favorite tea brewed just right, but you ate alone. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional ding of birthday messages, though none were from him. You told yourself you wouldn’t dwell on it. Jude had done so much for you in other ways—this wasn’t worth feeling upset over.
Then, just as you settled on the couch to scroll through Netflix, the front door creaked open.
You froze, heart skipping, as Jude stepped inside. His familiar frame filled the doorway, his dark curls slightly windswept and his cheeks flushed as though he’d been in a hurry. He wasn’t empty-handed—his arms were filled with a bouquet so large it looked like he’d bought out the entire florist. Roses, lilies, and delicate daisies overflowed from the arrangement, their fragrance reaching you even from across the room.
“Happy birthday, love,” he said, his voice warm and steady. A small grin tugged at his lips as he took in your shocked expression.
“Jude…” you breathed, setting your cup aside and standing. “What are you doing here? I thought you had training.”
“Training can wait,” he said, stepping closer. “You can’t.”
Your eyes softened, your lips trembling as you fought back tears. “I thought… I thought you forgot.”
He placed the bouquet gently on the table before cupping your face in his hands. “Forget you? Never,” he whispered, his voice tender. “Now, go pack your bags. We’re leaving in an hour.”
“Leaving? Where?” you asked, bewildered.
His grin turned mischievous. “It’s a surprise. Just trust me.”
Less than two hours later, you were boarding a private plane. Jude’s hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. He was unusually quiet, his excitement evident in the sly glances he kept throwing your way.
The flight itself was an experience. The seats were plush, the service impeccable, and there was a chilled bottle of champagne waiting for you. Jude poured you a glass, toasting to your special day with a wink.
“To the love of my life,” he said, his voice full of affection.
By the time you landed, your curiosity had reached its peak. As you stepped off the plane, the view stole your breath. The island was a paradise—pristine beaches with soft white sand, crystal-clear waters shimmering under the sun, and lush greenery framing the horizon.
“Welcome to your birthday getaway,” Jude said, wrapping an arm around your waist.
The resort was secluded, with its own private villa perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Inside, the space was decorated with balloons, candles, and a birthday cake so intricate it looked almost too good to eat.
“Jude,” you said, your voice trembling. “This is incredible.”
He pulled you into his arms, his lips pressing softly against your forehead. “Nothing’s too much for you, babe. You deserve all of this and more.”
That evening, Jude had arranged a private dinner on the beach. Lanterns hung from the trees, casting a soft glow over the table set for two. The waves crashed gently in the background, the air filled with the faint scent of salt and flowers.
“You really went all out,” you said, your fingers brushing over the chilled stem of your wine glass.
“I wanted this to be perfect,” Jude said, his gaze fixed on you. “You’re perfect.”
Heat rose to your cheeks, and you averted your eyes with a shy smile. He always had a way of making you feel like the center of the universe. The meal was delicious, each course meticulously prepared, but it wasn’t the food that held your attention—it was him.
After dinner, you walked along the shore hand in hand. The moonlight bathed the world in silver, and the ocean sparkled like liquid diamonds. Jude stopped suddenly, pulling you close.
“I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You’re everything to me.”
Your heart swelled, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “I love you too, Jude.”
Back at the villa, the atmosphere shifted. As soon as the door closed behind you, Jude’s hands found your waist, pulling you close. His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, then deeper, more insistent.
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.
His fingers trailed up your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You tilted your head back as his lips moved to your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate. His hands slid to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pressed you against the cool glass of the sliding doors. The contrast between the cold glass and the heat of his body was dizzying.
“Jude…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
He smiled against your skin, his breath warm as he whispered, “Say it again.”
“Jude,” you repeated, this time louder, the word carrying a mix of need and affection.
He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you. His touch was tender but intense, his focus entirely on you. Every kiss, every caress was purposeful, as though he were committing every inch of you to memory.
The next morning, you woke to the sound of soft laughter. Jude was already by the pool, talking to a group of fans who had somehow spotted him despite the resort’s seclusion.
You watched from the terrace, your heart swelling as he posed for pictures and signed autographs, his humility shining through in every interaction. When he noticed you watching, he excused himself and walked back over, his smile apologetic.
“Sorry, love,” he said, sitting beside you. “I couldn’t say no.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you said, leaning against him. “That’s one of the reasons I love you.”
The rest of the trip was a perfect balance of relaxation and adventure. You spent lazy mornings by the pool, Jude lounging beside you as he read or scrolled through his phone. Afternoons were for exploration—snorkeling in coral reefs, hiking to hidden waterfalls, or wandering through local markets.
Every evening ended the same way: the two of you tangled together on the terrace, a glass of wine in hand as the sun dipped below the horizon.
On your final night, Jude took your hand as you sat by the pool, the water shimmering in the moonlight.
“I want more moments like this,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just you and me, away from everything. Nothing else matters as long as I have you.”
Tears pricked your eyes as you leaned into him. “You already have me, Jude. Always.”
As the trip came to an end, you couldn’t stop smiling. Jude had gone above and beyond to make your birthday unforgettable, and he’d succeeded in every way. On the flight home, you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand laced with yours.
“Thank you,” you whispered. “For everything.”
“Anything for you, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
And as the plane soared through the clouds, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of love and adventure.
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please let me know if you want more of jude! and please send in requests because i have no imagination. thanks for reading!
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giddyfatherchris · 1 day ago
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A movie i've seen before III
pairing. bang chan x f!reader
type. not requested, a little fluff and a whole lot of angst
warnings. f!reader, crying, relationships issues, trust issues, angst angst ANGST
wc. 4k
a/n. here we go part 3!! this one will be rough LMAO it took me so long to write it and it made me so angsty when i did buuuuuut i kinda love it and ive been having a whole lot of fun writing sm angst even though im so nervous to post this since its not in my "usual" style… anyway i hope you’ll enjoy mwah xx oh and! i love to listen to music when im writing and reading so here’s a few song i had on repeat while writing this: guilty as sin - taylor swift, ceilings - lizzy mcalpine, i wish i hated you - ariana grande (in this order specifically!)
dont forget to tell me if you want to be added to the tag list for the next part x
part I part II
(pics are not mine! credit to the owners!)
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The streets were softly illuminated. Restaurants and little bars were stuffed with people laughing and enjoying the gorgeous night. You looked around and felt a wave of glee wash over you. You loved people-watching, the freedom of the soft wind dancing through your hair, and most of all, you loved being here with him.
Rehearsals had been a flying success. The boys had been so excited to see some of their friends and the day flew by in a second. When you returned to the hotel, you should have been exhausted from such an intense and packed day. Still, all you felt was excitement and energy course through your blood at the prospect of the coming evening. Once you made sure the other boys were settled, they all encouraged you to go out, have some fun, and take advantage of being in the famous French city. Even Felix gave you an encouraging smile as you headed out, Chan by your side.
At first, he had been reluctant about your night out with his leader. He was scared for your heart. At the same time, he knew how hard you always worked and as he helped you decide on an outfit, he realized it had been a long time since he saw you this excited. So despite his reserves, he helped you figure out a cute outfit with a genuine smile. You deserved to enjoy the city and have fun after all your hard work. No matter what would come out of this night, he would be there for you and that's what mattered the most.
Even though you had spent the last few weeks making sure you kept a certain distance between you and the man at your side, you decided not to care about it tonight. You were tired, extenuated from trying to guard your heart. Chan's attitude in the past few weeks seemed different. Maybe Felix was wrong, perhaps he was ready for something more. So tonight you would be yourself, and enjoy whatever happened. You decided you deserved it. So you didn't refrain from doing anything you might have done before or wanted to do now. You let Chan hold your hand as you walked through the city. You let him hand-feed you a bite of his plate as you chatted in the restaurant. You let him take pictures of you as you walked near the Seine, an honest smile on your lips. You didn't hold back from replacing his curls once the wind had disheveled them. You didn't hold back from laying your head on his shoulder as you looked at the magical view.
You hadn't noticed, but every little touch or attention planted seeds of hope in your heart.
In return, Chan seemed to beam at the returned normalcy of your relationship. He was more touchy than ever, a sparkle illuminating his eyes as he made jokes with the sole purpose of gorging himself on the sight of the adorable crinkles around your eyes. He shivered at the feather-light touch of your fingers on him when you made sure he looked perfect for some pictures he intended to post on Instagram for his dear STAYs. You gave a toothy grin as you pinched his cheeks before stepping away for more pictures. He didn't hesitate before asking a stranger with a broken French if they could snap one of you two. An amused light danced in your eyes, and you took a sharp breath when you felt his hand slide on your hips, bringing you closer to him for the picture. You lifted your eyes for a millisecond, a foreign but gentle expression on your face. He looked at you with the softest, most tender smile, before you gave him one in return, and rested your head and hand on his chest. You could swear you felt the thundering beat of his heart beneath his shirt. Or maybe you were mistaking it for your own, reverberating in your whole body.
"Vous êtes très mignons," complimented the stranger with a kind smile and a subtle wink.
You thanked him with rosy cheeks, not daring to comment. Chan came up behind you, asking what the stranger had said exactly, but you barely registered the words as you looked at the pictures on your phone. They were stunning. The lights, the view, but most strikingly, the way you looked together. Your heart skipped a beat as you swiped to see the picture the man had taken when you weren't posed yet. When you were still looking at Chan with that surprised and delighted expression and he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing on earth. He saw the picture and put his hand on your shoulders.
"They're beautiful," he said in a hushed voice as if the emotion currently gripping you had its claws dug deep in him too.
You looked back at him with a smile, trying to slow the fast pace of your beating heart. Ancient fears tried grabbing at your heart, but you pushed them away, holding on to your promise. He nodded towards the street, encouraging you to keep walking. His hand grabbed yours effortlessly and squeezed once before he started to walk. Soon, the Eiffel Tower appeared, and you couldn't hold a gasp from escaping your lips.
It was beautiful, stark on the starry night sky, illuminated like a beacon in the dark. Chan chuckled at your marvel and looked fondly at you as you ushered him to walk faster.
You settled on a park bench, his arm going around your shoulders as you cuddled into his side.
"This is perfect," you whispered after a moment of silent contemplation.
"It is," he answered, his lips so close that if he moved a little they would connect with your forehead.
"I'm really happy to be here with you. Thank you for everything."
The man's heart tightened at your words. "No, thank you," his words felt choked and you backed away enough to face him. "You are so amazing. You're the best at handling us and you’re you're so organized. I don't know how we would deal without you and I don't mean just at work. You're truly such a special person to us... to me." Stars danced in your eyes as you looked at him, so open, so inviting. "Thank you for being in my life. I don't know what I would do without you." Softly his lips touched your forehead in a tender kiss. You closed your eyes relishing in the warmth they spread on your skin. Never before had he been so honest about his feelings in your regard. The little declaration made your heart beat even faster. Seeds of hope were slowly blossoming into small, delicate flowers. Maybe, just maybe your proximity tonight meant more for him than you imagined.
Your eyes stayed closed even as he pulled away, even as he softly stroked the side of your face with his thumb. You were so scared to open them, terrified to know what would happen, what you would read on his angelic face. He brought you closer, so close you could feel his breath mingling with yours. You waited, incapable of opening your eyes.
"Y/n," he uttered softly. "Please, look at me."
You obeyed, softly batting your eyelashes, and felt electrified as the intensity contained in his eyes struck you. His gaze slowly tumbled to your soft lips, slightly opened, puffing each breath. His eyes came back up a second with a silent question. You knew he would not do anything before you said yes and it made your heart bloom as you nodded imperceptibly. And just like that, he linked his plush lips with yours. It was earth-shattering in a soft and shaking to the core way.
You backed away for a second to catch your breath and this time was the one to lift your hand, softly pulling at his shirt as you kissed him once more. This second kiss was still soft, but so deep, so full of emotions. It made your hands tremble. You moved in tandem, both the only people in the world who knew the rhythm of this foreign dance. The kiss made you feel tingly like nothing else maintained you to the earth except for his hands on your cheek and his lips on yours. It grew, both of you wanting, needing more. Your hands went up to his jaw, softly caressing the soft skin there, the skin you had wished to touch so many times. A low grumble echoed in his chest, the vibration almost making you purr back. You separated softly, slowly, stealing little kisses before resting your foreheads together, catching your breaths. His thumb fell on your bottom lip, softly plucking it apart from the top one. He was enthralled by the shallow breath you exhaled. Slowly, but surely you remembered where you were. You remembered you were sitting on a bench in France, and you realized you had just kissed. Panic slowly spread through your gaze, threatening to overpower the feeling of daze you had been previously bathed in. He noticed and a shadow seemed to pass in his eyes but before you could analyze it or say something he kissed your lips again. You had no idea what that little peck meant, and he didn't seem to know either but still, he smiled.
"You want to go back?" he whispered, his head still pressed to yours. You nodded quickly and took his hand as you walked back, your mind racing even as it clawed to stay in the daze it had been in for the whole night.
He held your hand on the way back until you felt its warmth leave yours to replace a few errant strands of his hair and didn't find it again. You tried not overthinking. He was allowed not to touch you at all times even after you had shared a kiss. And the fact that he had been all over you all night and suddenly wouldn't hold your hand didn't mean anything, right? You tried reasoning with yourself but couldn't deny that the sudden loss of his touch made an insidious cold creep into your bones.
As you approached the hotel and entered the lobby, Chan was so very polite and cordial. He kept his gaze straight forward and gave a polite smile to the few staff you encountered but didn't say a word to you. Long gone was the laid-back and giggly man you had spent the evening with. The ride in the elevator was silent, and not the kind of comfortable one you had experienced so many times. This one was heavy, full of meaning. You could feel regret emanating from his every gesture. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you held on, not wanting him to know how much this affected you.
Felix had warned you that Chan did not have the space in his life for a partner. You knew it, but still, you allowed yourself to let down your guard, and enjoy your time with him. What happened tonight could never happen again. The way this sole kiss had made you feel was to be used as a warning. If one night with him, carefree, had made you feel such a way... you had to keep your distance and be careful. If you let this go on, it would destroy you. You knew it now. Doing this tonight was a mistake because you didn't just like him. You were incontestably in love with Christopher Chan Bahng. And he wasn't and couldn't be because of everything he was.
He walked you to your room and stopped in front of the door. With your hand on the handle, you looked back at him, trying and failing to hide the pain in your eyes.
"Y/n, about tonight I-..." he started.
"Don't," you breathed out. "I know Chan. It won't happen again. I know it didn't mean anything." He shuffled in place, not even denying your claim. Your heart crumpled in pieces, nausea seizing you. "Don't worry about it," you finally whispered as you closed the door on him, on the possibility of him and everything he meant to you.
The little light of hope you felt earlier had been brutally put out. Delicate flowers ripped from their soil with an all-encompassing pain.
You got up the next day feeling like you had been ran over by a truck. Usually, you were a fast and heavy sleeper, but insomnia had seized you until the late hours of the night. But concert day would show you no pity. You had a job to do, and so you plastered a smile on your face and focused on the tasks at hand. You concentrated on compartmentalizing and acting like nothing happened, telling the boys about your amazing night, while omitting the kiss. The show went splendidly well, the boys gained many new supporters with this performance it was nothing short of a flying success. You struggled to feel anything as they smiled at you and spoke excitedly on the drive back to the airport. Once on the plane, you watched Chan sit down with a sour feeling in your chest. In the next row, Felix signaled for you to sit next to him but you couldn't. You hadn't told him the truth about your night, you weren't ready to face the possible 'I told you so' or worse, his tender compassion. Spotting an empty seat beside Minho, you stopped in front of him. "Can I sit here?" At his questioning look you allowed him to see an ounce of the sadness you carried. "Please, I just... don't want to be disturbed," you shared in a small voice.
Immediately his eyes took on a protective expression, he nodded and patted the window seat next to him. Relieved to know no one would get past your protector, you allowed sleep to swallow you and your pain, only waking up once you landed in Korea.
Cars sporadically zoomed by, their lights blinding you and making your eyes squeeze in pain, which actually wasn't that bad a thing considering how tired you were. The zaps of light were at least keeping you awake. The intense few days had taken a great toll on everyone, and the 12-hour flight on top did not help. Still, being the best one in shape you volunteered to drive. Chan in the passenger seat silently stared out the window while the boys were piled up in the back, sleeping peacefully.
You rubbed your eyes for the tenth time, hoping to finally get rid of the fatigue weighing on your bones that made your eyelids feel so damn heavy.
"If you're tired, I can drive."
You turned your head to find Chan staring at you. "I'm fine."
"I don't think you are. You have been rubbing your eyes and puffing for 20 minutes now. I got plenty of rest, I can drive the rest of the way."
You tightened your grip on the wheel, "I told you I didn't need you to."
"It's dangerous to drive when you're tired."
"Are you done?!" you lashed out. Turning your head to look at him you swerved on the road. Luckily there hadn't been any other cars, but your heart was beating out of your chest and you suddenly felt wide awake.
Chan stared at you with wide eyes for a second. "Okay, that's it. Pull over."
"No-"
"Y/n. Right now you're putting yourself and my members in danger. I can't allow that."
The sternness of his tone and a look in the mirror at the boys made you pull begrudgingly. You slammed the door and avoided his eyes while you switched sides. He tried to get ahold of you to apologize, but you pulled back as if the contact of his hands on your skin burned you.
"Y/n what's going on?"
"What's going on is that I'm tired. I'm exhausted," you sarcastically chuckled.
He wiped his eyes and sighed. "Listen, I get that but we all are."
You tried to bite your tongue to stop the words from coming out of your mouth but in the end, you couldn't. Maybe it was the extreme fatigue or emotional turmoil you had been going through for the past few weeks but you simply couldn't. You heard yourself speak words you never thought you would. "No. I mean that being in love with you is exhausting."
His arms slackened at his sides as his eyes grew big as saucers.
"You heard me right. I am in love with you. I should have known before, but our night in Paris confirmed that."
"Y/n... I can't give you or anyone anything more, specifically because of that. Being with me is exhausting. I already know that."
Irritation lit a fire in your blood. You were so done with this stupid man and his stupid beliefs that made him act like some fucking martyr, like the center of his soul was the problem while it had never been.
"Can you please stop? I'm tired of hearing you whine about how exhausting you are. No. It's not the actual loving you that's exhausting. You are lovable Chris as much as anyone else and to me even more than others. What's been exhausting is those past few weeks, this night we spent together. It's officially knowing you will never be able to return my feelings but knowing you still acted like you could. Holding my hand, looking at me with that smile. Telling me those nice things. Kissing me like I'm the best thing in your life. It's you playing with me that's killing me."
Tears of rage started rolling down your cheeks and for once you didn't want to keep them in. You wanted him to see how much pain he caused you.
"I never played with you I promise. I really do like you and enjoy being with you. That was never fake."
You let out an icy, short laugh. "And you think that makes it better? That is the definition of playing with someone Chan. A minute ago you told me you couldn't give me anything more. Now you're saying you meant everything. You're admitting to doing all those things even though you knew you never wanted more. And don't try to lie and tell me you were doing this for me or to try and see if you could actually be with me. You only did it for yourself, with your interests in mind. You wanted what I can give you without actually committing."
He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with you. He seemed defeated and his silence was nothing short of a confirmation of everything you accused him of. For the first time a word you would have never used in a thousand years to describe him came to mind. You took a step closer, forcing him to look into your eyes.
"I'm pretty sure you enjoy being with me. Everyone wants to be loved, and feel they matter but you act like you don't because you're afraid of what it entails. You're a coward," you seethed. "You build this wall around you, pretending you don't want anyone to love you the way you love them because you want to protect them, because you are just so noble and kind." You paused and scoffed, allowing time for your words to sink in. "But the truth is you're just scared. You're scared shitless Christopher. Scared not to be enough. Scared to be rejected. Scared to experience pain and loss. Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE is scared of those things. The difference is we still try."
You took another step, your hands floating up to his face. "I know it means more to love you than it would mean to experience pain and fear." His face contorted as he tried to keep in tears. Your rage softened for a second and you rested your hand on his broad chest. Immediately his hand covered up yours. He took a breath, on the edge of saying something but you wouldn't allow it.
"At least that's what I used to believe." You slipped your hands from his and backed away. "I don't think I can anymore. Not when I have been shown so clearly that my feelings are not respected and understood for what they truly are. I love you, Chris. All I want to do is support and be there for you. I thought you just needed me to prove the depth of my love and I did so for the past year. I thought it would reassure you and kill that fear in your heart. I always thought you were such a kind and loving soul, that you just needed to see I really did love you for all you are. Now I'm starting to think maybe you are as emotionless as you try to make it seem to everyone." His brows furrowed at the accusation. "And you know what? I could even forgive that. I could forgive you if this was how you felt and you were honest with me about it. But no. You keep acting like you can one day return my feelings. You keep stringing me along." Your voice broke on the last words. It was hard to admit the truth. He had broken you in ways you could never explain. You were vulnerable, pathetically screaming at him from the side of the road. But you wouldn't stop. Now that you allowed yourself to be honest, words kept tumbling out of your mouth uncontrollably. You felt a rush to your head, you felt dizzy, feverish. "And you know what's the worst about it? I know about all of this and still, I can't even get rid of those stupid feelings. I wish I could trust myself not to fall further in love with you but I can't. Every time I see you it all comes back. I can't forget your stupid smile and your stupid dimples and your stupid hugs and that stupid kiss we shared."
A deep breath escaped your tired body. "I wish I hated you."
Those tiny, hushed-out words felt like a direct punch to the gut. Physically incapable of speaking, your words echoed in his head eclipsing any other thoughts.
You drew a painful breath. It was over. You said what needed to be said. And even if it did feel good in the moment, you were left an empty shell. Silently, you both got back in the car. Chan took your place in the driver seat while you sat with your hood pulled up facing the window. In the back, seven boys acted as if they were still asleep even when they had heard everything.
🏷️ list: @httpdwaekki @omgsecretsecret @lovesunshinefelix @luvstaymin @jupire @nebugalaxy @drewsandsebastianswife @whyyougottadothatbro @parisanmorovati @greyyeti @chanssmiles @wildtokay @my-neurodivergent-world @xotinytinaxo @ramadiiiisme @potentialgay
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leynaeithnea · 4 months ago
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Just finished your beautiful beautiful very yummy and very angsty analysis of love in paradise ( maybe I shed a little tear here and there, maybe I didn't, you can't know that ) so I thought this would be right moment to leave you an ask for a gods game analysis maybe?? *stares at you with big brown eyes*
Last one of this saga!!!! Yayyy
Praying ill remember all the musical parts ive heard about but im sure theres so much hidden i forgot/didnt hear about yet
30. God Games
We open with a choir of course, because...gods! Athena decides to do something (finially)
“Father, God King” (athena asks daddy for help SIJGSEIG)
“Rarely do I ask for favors” being the good favorite daughter
“Now, I’m knocking on your door, with hopes to save a friendship with one who’s a prisoner far from home....Odysseus” I LOVE the melody of this part somehow??? especially how the drop before “odysseus”, ALSO SHE CALLS IT A FRIENDSHIP INFRONT OF ZEUS TOO
“Divine intervention, is that what you seek?” ........yes, bruh. Zeus dont fuck this up, u are decent enough in Homers Odyssey
“To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?” okay i had to google “apprehentions, and apperently it both means “arrest” and “concern/fear”...........to untie the arrest on Ody, and at the same time the concerns of Odysseus THATS GENIUS, Ive heard Homer does a lot of these double meanings of words in his Epics and IM SO HERE FOR IT, also “that Greek”, come on, dont use it as a slur >:)
“You are playing with thunder for a man full of shame”..................NOW WHO PUT THIS SHAME ON HIM YOU MF, YOU WHAT KIND OF SICK GAME IS THIS-
“But if he’s worth the risk of going under, why not make it a game?” Lukes vocal performance in this part is something else, like dude??? hello? youre a tenor SIEJGSEIGJ, its good, also WDYM GOING UNDER??? HUH??? ....yeah of course you make it a game, because everything is a game to you, because really, theres nothing and noone who poses a thread to you
“Convince each of them that he ought to be released, and I’ll release him” the slight echo effect in that voice.......fascinatinggg, wish i knew if the melody in this part had any meaning, gotta look it up
“Who’s them?” Athena god of wisdom asking about details before agreeing to deals *cough* Odysseus, learn from your friend
“Apollo” APPOLO MY GUY ehehehehee
“Hephaestus” okay, fair
“Aphrodite” the wWAY HE PROUNCES HER NAME?? OMG
“Ares”, yea yea imposing yada yada
“Hera” cant exclude his wife
“Or me” OR me, so its ALL of them, or him? bruh
“What do you say?” WHAT IS SHE SUPPOSED TO SAY
“Great” ehehehehe apollo <3
“Very well” just doing it because
“Eh” shes so excited
“Alright” he IS excited
“Groovy”....ok? um...imma move on
“Bring it” of course she would choose all of them over Zeus, its Zeus, he just WANTS you to loose, bc hes the god king
“Apollo!” parrot
“You all know I’m a fan of catchy songs” god of music yada yada HIS VOICE
“so with so many sirens gone, I think Ody’s in the wrong”.........there are so many reasons to dislike Odysseus and you pick the SIRENS? .......did you just join for the fun and had no real reasons or did u get dragged there or-....but its ok, your voice is amazing, also IIRC it should be the melody of suffering??? of different beast??? i forgorrrr norrrr also Lyreeee in the background! ehehehe
“They were trying to do him worse, All he did was reimburse them Now they’ll tread with caution first To live another day and sing another verse” maybe the melody was in this part. also, yeah tell him athena, what kind of argument is that, they tried to kill him he just did what he had to--------admittely he was VERY cruel about it, but athena doesnt have to mention that, and well Ody probably protected even more sailors in the future through his actions
ALSO DONT COME AT ME WITH “but all the sirens are dead” THERE ARE MORE, theyre obviously not talking about the sirens Ody killed, its about all other Sirens out at see that woudlve seen the others dying after being brutally cut down by a human, they WILL be more cautious in the future
“If that’s true, release him”, yeah u really had nothing to argue against, he just shrugs it off LMAO
“Hephaestus!” Hefefuf ehehehe ALSO JORGES DAD YAY adorable, tho when first listened i rly thought it was Jorge with voice changer again THEY SOUND SO SIMILIAR
“Trust is not given, it’s forged”...true, valid argument, Also Scylla melody??? I THink?
“Why should I give him my support? He sacrificed his own cohort”......well....um.....he didnt rly have much of a CHOICE ....but its a more valid concern, the sounds that sound like a hammers in a forge sound cool btw
“Did you forget they failed to listen?”.........yeah literally
“He was betrayed and then imprisoned” IMPRISONED AH ODY, but yeah EXACTLY, the WIND BAG, THE MUTINY AH
“But if you make the right decision He can still build a future with those who miss him” AND BUILD TRUST WITH THEM AGAIN AHHHHHHH yes. Hefefuf choose right.
“Fine, release him” good.
the music making it sound like steps in a game as you level up....fine, it sounds nice
“Aphrodite” seductive, i like it
“Your little high and mighty Odysseus” SHeS pissed, and does not like Ody you can hear the “high and mighty” in her voice :”) ouch
“Claims to love his mother But let her die of a broken heart” LIKE HE HAD A CHOICE IN THE MATTER HE TRIED TO GET HOME SHE DIDNT HAVE TO JUMP
“He was busy fighting”, yeaaah
“More like busy spiting the cyclops”.........yeah okay we can get behin that this was stupid decision but it wasnt a rational decision either he just lost his best friend, THATS LOVE TOO; GIVE HIM SOME SLACK
“Let him feel the pain that his mother felt and rot” WHY U BE SO COLD HEARTED , i love the melody/music in this tho
“Wait, please reconsider this”, athena using quick thought on a goddess, intriguing! also shes begging her :tear: aw man
“Really Athena? These old tricks?” annoyed older brother breaking into quick thought to the rescuse of his lover, makes him likeable somehow, i love the delivery of this line
“Ares!” yeah shes pissed
“What kind of sick coward Holds back his power While his friends get devoured? He didn’t even fight Scylla Didn’t even try to kill her Hides inside a wooden horse to get the job done Never handles things upfront” sorry that he didnt want to DIE dude??? i get your concern with straight forward, open combat but???? is dying on the battle field rly that much worse than wanting to come home COME ON, he wins, he is EFFECTIVE, are you jealous of his stragedies? HE GOT MENTORED BY ATHENA; OFC HE WILL CHOOSE THE SMART WAY OUT NOT THE QUICKEST-WAY-TO-DIE WAY OUT smh
“Pathetic and weak like his son” thats a low blow what is your issue with telemachus bro, the drums for ares makes sense
“Hold your tongue now His son’s my friend” awwww shes calling him a frienddddddd
“And tell your lover that a broken heart can mend” AHAHAH “tell your lover”, true true
“You want more bloodshed? Then set him free To get back to his homestead, he’ll make everybody bleed” SEUHGSOUEGESH “if you let him back he’ll kill everyone” Ares: :D thats what i like to hear, Athenas piano playing again, as she fights Ares is fun too
“Ugh, release him”, what made them change their mind? Esp Aphrodite? was it Athenas concern for Telemachus? and for Ares athenas promise of bloodshed? maybe who knows
“Hey baby”.....okay, flirty? from Hera? alright, lets interpret it as motherly flirting
“Hera” how to hit those high notes
“So many heroes So many tales Give me one good reason why yours should prevail” NOW THAT is intersting, everyone else so far gave a reason NOT to release him, but now Hera asks her to give her one reason WHY he deserves to be released “dont tell me of all the sins he didnt commit, tell me of the virtue he holds” typa thing
“He’s got the mind of a genius”, fair, but there would be others
“Try harder”, encouraging, she doesnt rly want her to loose does she? she support it, she just wants to see if Athena is worth it, i do like this characterization (as long as i ignore the disco animatic, i know its Jorges creative freedom but my brain tries to refuse ANYTHING that would be a reference to modernity, let me live in the bliss of ignorance to pretend its a movie set in ancient greece x)
“He’s pretty skilled with words”, hes a lair, i love him for it
“You can do better than that”, ...yeah
“He’s kind of funny?” running out of reasons athena, also YOU THINK HES FUNNY? LMAO ur right, the odyssey is quite the commedy for anyone but odysseus (and a few others but yk)
“Eh” doesnt sound convinced heh
“Never once has he cheated on his wife” HA HA HAHAHAHAHA HA right thing to say to Hera
[also the whole debate about “did odysseus cheat or not” no. idc what anyone says. if anyone argues he INITALLY consented to Calypso: fine, its blurry in the narrative, anyone can choose how to interpret that as they wish, but Circe was bestowed upon him by Hermes (in the myth at least, in Epic there ofc very clearly refuses her, and she accepts him (hear that calypso? HEAR THAT CALYPSO)) and Calypso, at the very least later on turned VERY unconsensual. FOR SEVEN YEARS., but the “he liked her no more” could also mean she didnt like her as a person anymore after she saved him. its not 100% clear how the relationship started out, we just know how it ends rly, but given the historic context too, it might very well be that it wouldntve been considered as cheating, even if it was consensual, would hera consider it cheating bc she does so with Zeus? maybe, idk, i think the idea of Ody being (one of) the only greek hero(es) that doesnt cheat is one i like, he gets praised enough by homer for all his skills he might as well have the skill of being true to his wife, in EPIC we know that Ody refuses her from the beginning so whatever did or did not remain unnamed in Epic, would NOT be cheating,.........and anyone who mentions Odys proof for cheating being the telegony or any other later versions where suddenly children show up, and he offs penelope for cheating and telemachus marries circe, can kindly, do some more reading into the history of the text and how later authors added their own twists, we dont know if the odyssey from homer was the most well known version, i think, but its the one we consider canon now, and i rly refuse to believe that Ody coming home only to get a new wife]
“Release him” the side glace Zeus mustve gotten LMAO
...ok angry zeus choir again, rly?
“I’ve played your game and won”, she did, fair and square
“Release him” you better
“You dare to defy me?”, what happend to your voice zeus? also....are you pissed that she called you out on cheating? bro, ur just pissed that she choose everyone else over you, grow up zeus
“To make me feel shame?” shame about loosing the game or shame for the humiliation about cheating, mhh
“No one beats me, no one wins my game!”, sounds like my 3rd brother, but hes at least cute when hes throwing a fit about a game having rules
“Thunder, bring her through the wringer Show her I’m the judgement call The one who makes her kingdom fall! ”.your voice is getting worse btw, but...are we talking about pride still? Athenas pride? or is “her” just Athena now? mhhhh, Odysseus DID call her “selfish, prideful and vain”, so maybe it does refer to her pride, she DID Have a character arc tho >:) unlike zeus, hes just an ass, also he gets a choir background for this? intersting,
NOW HE THROWS LIGHTING AT HER??? thats intense, i was gasping when i saw, night sound design
“Is she dead?”, he does sound concerned, is it bc big brother energy or bc athena was zeus favorite child? or do they know how Zeus fucked up just now? hah..ha
the flashes you can hear in the music....aaaah
NOW THIS INSTRUMETAL PART
IS SO BEAUTIFUL ITS SO GOOD THE WAY “WARRIOR OF THE MIND” AND TELEMACHUS LULLABY AND LEGENDARY BLEND TOGETHER AND BECOME “ATHENAS FINIAL STAND” (as its supposedly called) ITS SO GOOD i ah i like this part the most of the song, together with apollos voice aseghsegij Aphrodite is fine too :) and "rly athena; these old tricks"
AlSO her having a flashback to Ody giving her Telemachus to hold after his birth, PLS??? Thats so vulnerableeeeee aaaaaaaaah yeah, yea that was good
“Let him go, please, Let him go”, she reaches out to Zeus, as her light dims and she begs him to let Ody go, nothing left of the selfish and prideful goddess, she was selfless- sacrifcing herself and ler go of her pride to beg to Zeus to let him go, who stops as he grabs to throw another lighting, in shocked realization of what he has done.
The song fades out. And we are left to wonder if Athena is ded or not
now initially i rly thought Jorge killed a goddess
by now im more hopeful that she isnt dead (im hoping for that, mostly for the fun of sticking to the source material of Athenas help in the last chapter(s) of the story)
but
im still doubting a bit. the chance is there that she is, infact, dead, but i dont know how that would impact the narrative-,...i suppose we’ll see, either in the vengence saga, or at the lastest in the ithica saga x)
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synthshenanigans · 10 months ago
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Really dumb set of messy doodles of Whole meeting Darrell for the first time & being very confused as to why there's a chicken in his head
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more context/the idea I had:
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subsequentibis · 5 months ago
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there's something really, really interesting to me about an omnipotent character or to a lesser extent a character with heightened senses transformed in some way into a human and being keenly, horribly aware of the Lack. no longer being able to sense or know thing, no longer being able to see or feel or hear, being frustrated or scared by the dulling of their senses. it's really fascinating to me.
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m0llygunn · 3 months ago
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a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too
contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k
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“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.
“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 
You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 
You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 
Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 
“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 
“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 
“You never even told me you were taking gym.”
“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”
“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.
“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 
If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 
“Show me what you’re working on.”
“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”
“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 
“I don’t.”
“Eddie, you do.”
Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 
You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.
“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 
“Told me what?”
“Why would you want to help me study that?” 
“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 
Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 
Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.
“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 
“Do what?”
“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.
“I— I’m not… we’re not—“
His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 
“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 
You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 
“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.
“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”
He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”
“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”
You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 
“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 
The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 
“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 
“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.
“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”
“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”
With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”
“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”
“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 
With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”
With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 
One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 
“Okay, and this one is…?”
“The head,” he states. 
“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”
You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 
“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”
“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 
He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.
“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 
He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 
“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.
You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 
“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.
“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —
“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.
Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”
“You’re squirming like one.”
“I’m not!”
“There’s nothing wrong —”
“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 
You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 
“Okay,” you nod.
“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 
“I believe you, Eddie.”
The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 
And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.
“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 
“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”
“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 
“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”
His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.
“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”
“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”
“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 
“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 
“That really sucks. Sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 
“So… Do you have a tactic?”
“Tactic?”
“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”
“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”
“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”
Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 
“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”
Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.
“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.
“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 
You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 
He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…
“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”
“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”
“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 
He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 
“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”
“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”
That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 
“So can I?” you ask. 
“Can you?”
“Ask you questions?”
He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”
You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 
“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 
“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 
“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 
“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 
“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”
He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.
“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 
“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 
His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 
“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.
“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”
“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 
“So it doesn’t feel good?”
“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 
“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”
“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 
“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”
“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 
“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 
The thing is, you’re not done. 
“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”
He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 
“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 
You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.
His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  
“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”
He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 
“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.
“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.
“You know I like you, right?” 
His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.
“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”
You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 
“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”
You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 
“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 
At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 
Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 
“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.
Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.
“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 
“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.
His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”
The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”
“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 
“Should I make a move?” 
“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.
Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.
Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.
Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 
Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 
Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.
You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 
Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 
His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 
You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.
But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.
“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 
“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”
You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”
“No?” 
“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.
“You are?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”
He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.
“I do.”
You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 
“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”
The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 
“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”
“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 
The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 
You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 
Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 
“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 
It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 
Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 
“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 
His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.
This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 
His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 
When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.
You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 
“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 
Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 
And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 
“Too much for you?” you tease.
“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”
He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 
A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.
With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  
“Can I ask you another question?”
“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.
“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”
“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”
“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”
“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 
You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 
“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 
“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 
He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 
“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 
He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 
“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.
Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 
From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 
You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 
Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 
Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  
If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 
“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.
“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”
“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 
Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 
With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.
Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 
Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 
While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 
You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 
But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.
Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.
It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 
“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 
His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 
Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 
You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.
Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.
“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 
His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 
Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.
His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.
“Pretty girl,” he hums. 
You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.
It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.
Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.
“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.
“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.
Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 
This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 
You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 
“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 
With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 
As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 
His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 
You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 
With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.
Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.
“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 
You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.
Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.
His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 
You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 
You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.
“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 
The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 
His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 
Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 
“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 
His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 
“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.
“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”
“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.
You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 
Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 
Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.
The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 
It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.
His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.
“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.
And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.
One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.
Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.
It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.
“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.
His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 
His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 
“Is that —”
“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.
“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.
His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 
You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 
“It’s not.”
You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”
“But you didn’t get to cum.”
True but — “I still had fun.”
He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.
“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.
“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.
“Next time,” you agree.
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pyrrhiccomedy · 8 months ago
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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.
Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.
My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.
Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.
And then the pandemic hit.
And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?
And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."
Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.
And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.
We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.
The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."
I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."
Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"
I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.
"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."
She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.
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eccentricwritingbaby · 17 days ago
Text
baby finn series, reminiscing
lando norris x wife!mom!reader
series masterlist
summary - adjusting to life with a newborn and toddler, you and your husband reminisce on the easier, more fun, and even hotter times.  
masterlist 
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-
you softly stroked the light hair on top of baby lola’s head as she laid in your arms, the quiet hum of your tv in the background, and the distant domestic sounds of lando in your en suite readying himself for bed casting a sweet lullaby onto your peaceful state. you were sitting tucked into your bed, rocking lola gently back to sleep after she’d eaten, preparing to transfer her into the bassinet that stood next to you. you didn’t move her just yet, knowing her father would want a few baby cuddles before you both called it a night. 
finn had gone down easy tonight, something that shifted since eleanor was born as he never enjoyed bedtime, but your husband and you joked that he was just as exhausted by her as you two were. and even though the tiredness flooded the house, the adoration and appreciation of your new addition was even stronger. 
finn absolutely loved being a big brother, excitedly shouting out to anyone he could that his baby sister was the best baby in the world. you and lando took that as a parenting win, definitely easing your doubts that he wouldn’t enjoy the shared attention, yet you were raising a patient and well-mannered boy. you were constantly giving him gentle reminders of sharing and kindness, something that he for sure carried with him. 
“she’s not down yet?” lando whispers to you, leaving the bathroom and clicking the light off as he softly climbs into the bed.
“she is,” you respond, “just thought you’d want some lola love before i put her down,” you giggle.
“you know me too well, baby, it’s almost scary,” he replies, reaching over to take the one month old from your hold. 
“me? scary?” you whisper to him in mock offense, “i could never,”
“hmm, what about when i came home that one night so drunk i could barely stand?”
“well i was seven months pregnant with finn and at an emotional high so don’t blame me, blame the hormones,”
“your hormones are off the charts when you’re pregnant,” he chuckles with a light, playful jab to your side. 
“well you act like you’ve got pregnancy hormones when you’re not happy after a race,” you joke back in playful banter. 
“touche, my love, touche,”
“it was a different time when i was pregnant with finn, wasn’t it?” you slowly admit, now leaning on your husband next to you, head tucked onto his shoulder.
“it really was, far different than with lola,” he agrees, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of your head, “quieter for sure,”
“much,” you laugh, “i feel like we were just so young back then,”
“that’s because we were,” he laughs with you, “we were twenty-two and only six months married,”
“and everyone had already told us we were too young to have been married-”
“then we popped out a kid barely a year in,” he swiftly finished your thought with another giggle. 
“i wouldn’t change it for the world,” you sigh, bringing your hand up to caress eleanor’s soft cheek.
“neither would i,” lando sighs, “but i do miss the constant sex,”
“lando!” you quietly scold, gesturing towards the sleeping baby in his arms.
“what? she’s asleep! and i do miss it!” he bites back in defense.
“yeah i guess i do too,” you chuckle, “we used to be like bunnies while we were dating and before finn,”
“do you remember that time at the hotel in brazil? we were freshly engaged and i had done well in quali?”
“how could i forget?”
-
your back was up against the outside of your hotel door, lando assaulting your neck with his lips as his hands kept attempting to retrieve his key.
“baby, just use mine,” you let out in a breathy moan, gesturing to the purse on your shoulder.
“n-no, i’ve got it here somewhere,” he grunts out, letting you go and taking a closer look through his wallet, “ah, here it is,” he holds it up as if its a trophy of its own, swiping it over the lock and pushing you both through.
your lips meet his feverishly, as if they were what you needed to survive, and his own were taking dominance quickly. you both were love drunk on each other, hands repeatedly roaming one another, constantly moving to bring each other closer.
a small but quick tap to your ass signals you to jump, lando catching you with ease as he walks the both of you over to the bed. he lays you down gently, crawling over you with purpose as his lips land back onto your neck.
“fuck, lan,” you let out, wrapping your legs around his waist, eagerly pulling him closer.
“someone’s needy,” he teases, yet complies, rocking his clothed hips over your own in order to settle you just a bit. 
“always for you,” you sigh, causing him to groan and grasp at the bottom of your shirt.
“take this off,” he grunts out in his husky, strong voice, the voice reserved for moments like these. you do as he says, whipping off your shirt in one swift motion, and allowing him to unclasp your bra quickly. 
“your turn,” you tut, pulling on the hem of his own shirt, aiding him in the removal of it. his hands cascade down your body, knowing every crook and crevice like the back of his own hand. he kneads, pushes, and massages each part of your delicate frame, always knowing exactly what makes you tick. 
“fuck, baby,”  you sigh, pushing your chest up into his own.
“ya like that, y/n? like when i touch you like that, baby?”
“fuck, yes, lan,”
-
“that was a night for sure,” lando sighs at the memory, “i had you wrapped around my finger,”
“you did,” you hum, “you still do,” 
“i know i do,”
“don’t let your head get too big baby, remember that night after mclaren’s christmas party?”
“well how could i forget that?” 
-
“shit- y/n, feels so good baby,” lando squeaks out, his hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail as your entire throat closed around his dick. he was sitting on the edge of your bed, you on your knees right in front of him, “don’t stop baby- please, i-i’m close,”
with that you popped your mouth off of him, hearing his whimper at the loss of contact. 
“y/n, baby i was-”
“so close, i know,” you finish for him, climbing up his body, your legs land on either side of his as you bring your dress up to your hips and push your panties to the side, “but tonight, you finish inside of my pussy, not my mouth,” you whisper into his ear.
“fuck, y/n, you’re going to be the death of me,” he swallows deeply and lets out a guttural moan as you begin to push your entrance down onto the tip of his cock. 
“shh, lan,” you kiss his lips, “i’m in control here, remember?”
“yes, baby,” he whimpers out as you continue your journey to the base, reaching around behind you, your fingers find his balls, giving them gentle squeezes as he tries his best not to make a sound. 
“good job, lan,” you whisper, kissing his neck as you watch him squeeze his eyes shut, “nuh uh,” you tsk, “eyes on me, baby,” his eyes open swiftly, bloodshot and hungry as he watches you bounce, his release coming quickly.
“i-i’m gonna cum,”
“not yet, lan, you can hold it for me,”
“i-i c-can’t,”
“you can, baby, you can,”
-
“shit, that was amazing, y/n,” lando laughed as you both recounted the night.
“it was,” you laughed with him, reaching over to take lola out of his arms and place her into the bassinet, “we’ve had plenty of fantastic nights like that,”
“such as making this one,” lando nods over to little eleanor, as you crawl back into his embrace, “now that was a good night,” he emphasizes as his hands roam down to your hips, pulling you into him tighter as you both get comfortable in bed.
“that was an unforgettable night,”
-
“thanks, mate, again for letting him sleepover tonight,” lando says to max fewtrell, nodding down to little finn and his suitcase - who was jumping with excitement to spend a night with his godfather.
“of course, mate, y’know i love the little guy,” he laughs, “plus you and y/n need some time together, you’ve been too uptight recently,”
“oh shut it,” lando laughs off, heading back a few steps to his and yours apartment, across the hall from max’s.
“just don’t be too loud making a second, your first is only a wall away,” he jokes and lando just sticks his tongue out and shuts your apartment door. 
“baby?” lando calls out to you throughout the now quiet home, “finn’s all set over at max’s”
“in here!” you call back to your husband. 
the two of you had planned a special night in, opting for a quiet dinner at your place in order to avoid paparazzi and enjoy the ability to act on the drowning desire you had for each other. as lando stepped into the kitchen, his eyes raked over your body shamelessly, watching you finish plating up the food, “here you are, lan,” you sigh, handing him his fixed plate and nodding towards the table, “fancy a seat?”
“would prefer you on my lap as we eat, my love,” he chuckles out, “you look amazing,” 
you had decided to still dress up, wanting to wear something other than the travel clothes or work clothes that had been adorning your body the past few weeks - needing your own boost of self-confidence in your best dress. 
“thank you, baby,” you waltz over to him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips, “you don’t look too bad yourself,” lando was in an easy white button up and dark trousers, taking your breath away regardless of what he wore - and he felt the same about you. 
“mm, thank you,” his hold was firm on your hips, the one hand that held his plate now had discarded it onto the counter before him and traded it for your waist as he furthered the kiss, “i can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight,” he whispered into your lips, your fingers lacing themselves around his neck.
“maybe we should just skip the dinner,” you hum, continuing to softly kiss your husband, “take ourselves to the bedroom,” lando groans at the thought, but quickly tenses up.
“but, love, you spent all this time on the food-”
“fuck the food,” you cut him off, lips now traveling to his neck, “i want something else for dinner,”
“fuck baby,” he grunts, not a second later you are hoisted up into his hold, the both of you heading back into your bedroom. he lays you onto the bed, fast to remove his shirt as your dress followed a close second on your bedroom floor, “ya make me crazy, y/n,” lando speaks into your neck as he trails his kisses lower, “absolutely mad,”
your moan is the only response able to muster out as his kisses reach the waistband of your panties, his fingers already beginning their dance along your clothed slit.
“already so wet for me, baby,” you feel his hot breath along your body at his words and your back begins to arch off the bed. 
“please, lan,” you whimper out as he continues to stroke and kiss your already squirming body.
“mm, please what baby?” he chooses to tease in return, your panties now off and his lips begin their track down to your sensitive bud.
“please do something, lando,” with that direction from you, his lips are connected to your heat in a split second, your hands grasping at the bedsheets to find some sort of stability, “need you inside me baby,” you whimper out, bucking your hips up into his mouth. 
“but i’m just getting started, love,” lando breathes out before venturing back to your pussy.
“we have all night, lan,” you remind him, softly grabbing at his head as a glistening smirk appears on your husband's face, “all night,” you emphasize, bringing his lips down to your own as his hands work to remove his pants. 
“mm, i love you so much, y/n,” he speaks into your lips, his pants and briefs now flown across the room as his rock hard member is pushing against your inner thigh.
“i love you too, lando, so much,” your breathe out, a hand of yours coming down to stroke him a few times before he aids you in lining up to your entrance.
“ready, love?” he asks gently, hovering over your body as his left hand comes to push some strands of hair away from your face.
“always, baby,” you reply, letting out a deep moan as he pushes into your soft folds and through your entrance. lando moans with you, one of his hands holding himself up while the other reaches to wrap around your neck.
“‘s beautiful,” he grunts out as his pace quickens and he watches your face of pleasure under him. 
“‘s good,” you reply, your hands wrapping around his broad back in an attempt to pull him closer and deeper than he already is. 
“fuck, y/n, ‘m not gonna last long,” he whines out, feeling your own release coming as your walls continue to clench around his cock. 
“me neither,” you moan, your lower tummy getting hot as you try your best to hold on, “we’ve got all night, remember?”
“all night, baby,” lando replies, “ya gonna cum with me, hmm?”
“fuck, lan, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you pant, your nails now beginning to scrape down his back at your need.
“f-fuck, cum with me, y/n,” his pace gets sloppier and his face contorts, letting you know you can let go. you’re a writhing mess underneath him as he grunts in your ear, feeling his seed begin it’s warm travel into your body as your own coats his dick. his body collapses on top of you and you feel his sweet kisses on your neck as you both nurse your comedown. 
-
“i can’t believe max was right about that night,” lando chuckles at the memory and realization.
you laugh with him before replying, “how did he even find out?”
“oh, he did the math,” 
“only fewtrell,” you giggle with your husband, bodies tangled together and beautiful memories replaying in both of your minds. if anyone doubted your love, even after two little pieces of evidence had crawled their way out of your body, you would tell them about these nights. the nights where everything and everyone was quiet - except you two. tangled in cozy sheets, making each other relentlessly laugh, and soft kisses proving your adoration for the other. 
“how about a recreation of that night, baby?” lando nudges his nose against your face, silently asking for a kiss, and you comply with ease. your lips mold together as they were made for each other - and part of you believes they were - as his hands trail down and around your body. 
your own hands begin to make their way up his neck and to his hair, soft tugs to indicate just how good he always made you feel. his own gentle squeezes to your ass are his own indication and praise to your work. just as lando rolls to be on top of you, a quick pitter patter of tiny feet down the hall and towards your door alert the both of you that company would be arriving.
your husband drops one last kiss down to your lips with a small eye roll and a quiet, “i really miss the constant sex,” before he makes his way over to the door, opening it to find finn at his feet, “and what are you doing here, mister?”
“can’t sweep, dada,” finn says with a yawn, while rubbing his eyes as he looks up at his father.
“c’mere,” lando sighs, picking up the small boy and bringing him over to you, “just for tonight, bubs,”
“you said that last night,” you remind your husband with a giggle, pulling finn into your hold under the blankets as he proceeds to get comfortable. 
“whatever,” lando lets out in a playful groan, wrapping his arms around you and finn. 
even though you both did miss the constant sex, you wouldn’t trade this for the world. going to sleep on a peaceful night, with your two babies snug right in your arms.
-
808 notes · View notes
recklesssezon · 3 months ago
Text
𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗶
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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | alessia and ella find themselves in chaos of trouble and you have to go save them.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, violence, slurs, misogyny, i suck at warnings
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | just gonna silently drop this here and dip. thank you to the anon that requested this!
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“I knew I shoulda drove. Now look at what you've done. You gotten us lost.” 
Alessia sighed, turning the wheel down an unknown neighborhood. “The map said turn left, Less!” she groaned, dropping her head on the steering wheel, halting the car in the middle of the road. That was the second wrong turn she had took, they’ve only been down three blocks. 
Ella made the absolute mistake of letting Alessia drive. She should have manned up and drove with her tweaked ankle that surely would have gotten them to dinner faster. 
“I swear it said turn right!” Alessia exclaimed, peering around the neighborhood for some familiarity. Ella gasped in disbelief, snatching the phone out its holder, shoving it right into Alessia’s face. 
“Left! It said left!”
Alessia grinned sheepishly, the clear displayment of a left turn route proved Ella’s point. “We’ve all mistaken our left for our right.” Alessia flinched back when Ella reached over the console, threatening to strangle her. Alessia released her foot off the petal backing herself far from Ella as much as she could. Momentarily forgetting to put the car in park. 
The car rolled forward, the two girls were far too busy fighting to notice the sudden movement. They jerked, Ella frozed mid-climb, Alessia had stopped screaming. Blue eyes staring into one another as stunned as they can be. Both too scared to look at the situation they found themselves in. 
“What did we just do?” 
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you look?.”
“Why don’t you?” 
“You’re the driver.”
“You’re the idiot that attacked the driver!”
“Okay. Let’s both look on the count of three.” Alessia nod, she grabbed Ella’s hands interlacing them for the worst to come. One…Two…Thr-” 
“Hey!” Their heads snapped to the booming voice, a man furiously marching towards them. Hurling slander at the top of his lungs. Terror surged, and Ella repeatedly slapped Alessia to take action. “Drive! Drive!” 
Alessia stammered, fumbling the gear between reverse and drive, “I can’t! The road’s too fucking small!” The attempt to make an escape was useless, giving up, Alessia scrambled out the car. “Sir! Sir, I’m sorry I didn’t mean-” She stumbled back startled by the closing proximity as he continued his march, no sign of stopping. 
“You think I care what you mean! You hit my fucking car!” He screamed, inches away from Alessia’s face. She turned her head, shielding herself from the strong aggression. Ella instantly went to Alessia’s side, yanking her back. “I paid pounds for it! Only for some two stupid girls to wreck it!” 
Ella scrunched her nose in disgust, spit flying everywhere from his yellow jagged teeth. Smart mouth as ever, Ella said, “Technically, we didn’t wreck it. A little bump to the side is more like it. So don’t go get your teeth in a twist.” His face grew beet red by the second, Alessia pushed her best friend behind her. There was no way they were going to get out of this alive if Ella kept talking. 
“I understand you’re angry but we’ll pay for the damages.” Alessia pleads, hoping that by taking responsibility they’ll be good to go. “We?!” Ella cried, wincing when Alessia stomped on her foot. She threw a stern look, silently warning Ella to shut her mouth. “Yes, we. We’ll take full responsibility and pay for all expenses needed.” Alessia forced a smile, praying that what she said was enough to settle the tension.
He chuckled, “You think I’m going to trust two whores to have that kind of money?! Do you take me for a fool?! This is a vintage Rolls Royce, your family's generational wealth couldn’t pay for this!” He slammed his fist onto the hood of Alessia’s car, pointing a threatening finger at her. “I’m going to call the police, don’t go anywhere!” 
Alessia gulped, her stomach tightened as storms of emotions winded her. She felt stupid for being distracted, stupid for not putting the car in park. She wishes that things will be handled privately, no need for the media or you to hear about this, especially you. But, while Alessia was preoccupied, Ella had made a call. 
“Hello, mate? I think it’s best you get down here, Alessia’s a bit in a situation…Yeah, we’re nearing that pond you threw Lucy in last month. Alright, see ya. “ 
Ella tucked her phone in her pocket, just catching the man walking away. “Don’t stress too much, I’ve got it handled.” Alessia looked at her with red eyes, hot tears brimming slightly over the edge. Ella pulled Alessia to her side, wrapping an arm around while they waited. It didn’t take long for you to arrive, two minutes after the call to be exact. It’s a good thing they didn’t make it far with Alessia’s poor driving skills. 
Her eyes grew large at the sight of you racing over, she didn’t expect you to be here. She zeroed in on Ella, knowing she had something to do with your sudden appearance. You had become the team’s go to person whenever they were in trouble, especially if Alessia was an unwilling participant. Then, certainly you’d show up.
“Alessia! Are you okay, love?” 
You engulfed her in your arms, looking over her shoulder, Ella nodded assuring that she was unharmed. Alessia released a breath, the security of your arms brought her comfort more than she could imagine. “I’m okay. But what are you doing here? You can’t be here.” Alessia’s words tremble with worry. You were still under investigation after last year’s incident. Headlines that followed hours later spread like wildfire. 
You became the center focus, your name and photos plastered on every media outlet there is. Your team did some damage control and ceased the fire but that wasn’t enough to call off the rumors and speculation circulating you. 
In terms of Alessia, her name was out of the limelight. Your team along with hers worked overtime to ensure that her and her friend’s association with you wouldn’t be put to questioning. The possibility of your career tanking was on everybody’s mind, the last thing you wanted was for Alessia and her mates to get mixed up in it all. 
You furrowed your brows, assessing your surroundings. Your eyes wandered over Alessia’s car, “I came as soon as Ella called. Said that you were in trouble, and it looks like she wasn't lying. What the hell happened?” 
“Alessia hit another car and then this grumpy old man came out of nowhere and started yelling! He called us stupid and whores! I’m not a whore!” 
Ella kicked the rubble on the road, more comfortable to express her anger now that you were here to ensure that she wouldn’t get hit for talking her smack. You looked for Alessia for confirmation, rest assured, she nodded. You sighed, pressing a kiss to Alessia’s forehead. “It’s alright, Less. I'll go have a little chat, rough him up a bit and then we can go.” 
There was no point in stopping you, she had learned the hard way. You cupped her jaw, the heat radiating from her red cheeks soothed your cold hands. “Stay with Ella until I’m done. I mean it.” Alessia searched for anything else other than the love and determination, you always held. You didn’t let go until she said what you wanted to hear. 
“Yeah, I’ll stay with her until you’re done.” 
You softly smiled, understanding that she didn’t want you fighting her battles for her. Ever since your public outburst, Alessia’s been walking on eggshells with whom she interacted and how she interacted, becoming more reserved to avoid another mishap. “Don’t worry your pretty head. It’ll be quick.” You kissed her lips, smiling when she refused to pull away. You gave her a parting peck. 
“Ella, you mind pointing him out?” Ella pointed an accusatory finger to the flat behind you, confident that you’d be kicking some ass today, and maybe she could jump in, earn some street credits to her name.
Alessia stared at her friend in betrayal, Ella shrugged, “What? If she ends up in prison, at least you know she’ll get your name tattooed on her neck.” Alessia rolled her eyes. Though you assured her multiple times that prison wasn’t in your future, it didn’t stop the possibility from potentially becoming a reality. “Maybe she could be the next Mike Tyson.”
The door opened, revealing a woman in her thirties, a wash cloth in hand. “Hello, darling. What can I do for you?” You gave a charming smile, not expecting a woman to be on the other end. Did the man that just called your girlfriend and friend a whore have a wife? “Um, I’m looking for your husband I presume. I wanted to speak about some problems we've made along the way.”  She smiled politely, seemingly unsuprised that her husband got caught in a web of trouble. 
“Oh, I’ll go get him for you.” 
You gave thanks, rocking on your heels as you waited. A man appeared with a beer in hand, a phone in the other. “What do you want?” His voice gruffed, your nose twitched at the stench of alcohol, body odor and family disappointment. 
"An apology. You see the two girls behind me. Well one of them is my girlfriend and the other is her best friend. And I don't know about you, but I don't take anyone disrespecting my girl lightly." 
He scoffed, the audacity to scoff in your face had your self-control hanging by a thread. He stepped out the door threshold, guzzling his beer before throwing it down on the pavement. Shards flew up a few inches, yet you stood your ground.  
"Yeah? What the hell are you going to do about it, bitch?" 
Instantly, you grabbed him by the collar, throwing him down the small steps to his freshly cut lawn. Groans escaped his mouth, his body curled up withering in pain from the blow to his back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You skipped the steps, kicking his ankle when he tried to stand. “Many things but none that are worth discussing. What’s your name? Because I don’t think hillbilly bob is it.” He pushed himself up to his knee, this time you let him. He glared up at you, grumbling his name. 
“Paul. The name’s Paul.” 
You motioned for Alessia and Ella to walk over, “Girls, I know you already met, but this man here name is Paul. Now, Paul, we're going to try this again. Give the girls the apology they deserve.” You tapped your foot, unfazed by the lasers he shot at you. You’ve dealt with the worst people, all who're skilled in kicking your ass. Baseless men like Paul failed to install fear in you. You were the BloodHouse for crying out loud. You weren’t so easily shaken.
“She hit my car. I'm not apologizing for shit." 
You huffed, your team thought it’d be best for you to lay off matches for a while, you haven’t stepped foot in the cage with another fighter for months. Your body was itching for a fight, a real one, and it looks like you found one. “I really wish you didn't say that.” You pulled your fist back, striking him across the jaw. 
He fell back, and white flash of pain surged from his back to his jaw. Blood flooded his mouth. He gathered up the little strength he had to spit on you. You inspected at the red blob on your shoe, your heart pounding in your ears. Your fingers twitched, feeling the uncontrollable urge to pummel Paul black and blue.
You rushed forward, grabbing Paul by the ear, forcing him up before you tore it off. You inched closer, dropping down to a whisper. “You're lucky that she’s here. If it was just you and me, I would’ve beaten you until you’re tube fed. Now, say you're sorry.” 
Fear striked through him, his doe eyes looking at you like some kind of monster. He turned to the girls, reluctant but nonetheless muttered what you were looking for. You purse your lips, unsatisfied. Grabbing his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. "Louder and make it sincere.”
You weren't a very patient person, never have been, never will be. A trait you honorably gotten from your father, you pushed Paul's arm further as he took his sweet time. 
“Sorry, girls. Seems like he lost his voice, no worries I’ll get your apology.” 
“Babe, I don’t think-”
“Come on, mate. Say it. It’ll be done and over with before you know it.” Alessia threw a look over her shoulder, silently blaming Ella for dragging you into this mess. Ella raised her hands in surrender. She was partially to blame for this she'll admit.
He visibly clenched his jaw, no matter how hard he tried to conjure up his strength he was no match for you. Your stance established the power imbalance between you two. Him barely holding himself up while you stood firm. Ella smiled in triumph, Alessia winced as the man croaked out an apology, a fearful one, but one nevertheless. 
You smiled at Alessia who stood weary behind you, she was still getting used to the extent violence could go, slowly she became immune but time could only tell. "What do you say, love? Do you think he's being genuine?" 
Alessia glanced at you and then to the man down on the ground, her chest filled with a pride. “Yeah, I think he’s fine.” You patted Paul on the shoulder, feeling a hint of glee when he hissed. 
“Told you were lucky.” 
Though you weren’t done as they thought. You dragged Paul, not minding the dead weight as he tried to stop you. You flipped open the bin, readjusting your grip on the back of his shirt before tossing him in. You closed the lid, kicking it to the ground. Smirking when a shout came from the fall. You turned to Alessia, looking for a job well done.
Ella applauds, entertained by the show you provided, disbelieving that this is what she’s been missing. “Can we go now? I’m getting hungry.”
“Gladly. Wait before I forget.” You pulled out a wad of pounds from your pocket, throwing it beside the bin, “For your car!” You gave it an extra nudge, slinging your arm around Alessia as Ella took your spot and continously kicked the bin. 
“Take that you arse!”
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inkedinshadows · 2 months ago
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Truth-Teller
Day 26: Knife play — Azriel x f!reader
Warnings: language, shadow play, use of knives (no cutting or blood involved)
Word count: 1.230
A/N: this one is based on this suggestion
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Your wrists and ankles were tied to the wooden chair by your mate’s shadows, preventing most of your movements as the tip of his dagger traced a line down your cheek.
When Azriel hadn’t come to bed, you had gotten up and found him brooding in the garden, a haunted look in his eyes. It took you some time, but you eventually got him to open up, and he admitted he felt like a monster who did nothing more than cause harm and hurt people with Truth-Teller. Your heart clenched at seeing him like this, but your reassurances didn’t seem to work. Then, you had a sudden idea.
“Use it on me,” you said.
Azriel seemed confused, so you clarified, “Use Truth-Teller on me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, love.”
You chuckled. “Not to hurt me, Az. Fuck me with it.”
It was the only way you could think of to make him change his mind. You convinced him to take you to his dungeon so that every time he went down there to fulfill his spymaster’s duties, he would think of this moment, of you.
And now you were naked in one of the cells, the shadows swirling around his wings and along your body.
Azriel placed the tip of Truth-Teller under your chin to tilt your head up. As your eyes met, anticipation and excitement coursed through you.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked quietly.
You nodded. “I’m sure.”
“And you’re not afraid I will hurt you?”
“You could never hurt me, my love.” You offered him a soft smile. “I trust you. You’re my mate.”
Something seemed to shift in his eyes, and the shadows tightened around you. Some tendrils slipped between your parted legs to tease your clit, eliciting a whimper.
“My mate,” he repeated. His voice was a bit rougher than before, void of his usual warmth. It sent a shiver down your spine.
“Yes,” you breathed. “I’m yours.”
He leaned down until he was a few inches from your face. “You’re mine.”
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded again, holding your breath. His shadows gathered around your thighs, brushing against your slick entrance, and you did your best to keep your eyes on your mate.
Azriel smirked, a wicked gleam entering his eyes. “And you wouldn’t mind me marking you, so you don’t forget it?”
You knew he could get possessive, but you always liked it when he left love bites or small bruises on your body as a reminder. You were his, and he was yours.
“Of course not,” you whispered.
You thought he would bite your neck and give you a hickey, but he pulled back instead. He dragged Truth-Teller down to your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You sucked in a breath as he used the blade to flick your pearled nipple, and then he slid it across your stomach. You winced when he pressed it into your skin, not hard enough to pierce and draw blood but enough to leave a red line.
His shadows swirling around your clit kept your mind occupied, creating an almost overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain as Azriel focused on tracing the dagger over you. He drew line after line, but you couldn’t see what he was doing until he stepped back to admire his work.
You finally looked down, and a sound between a gasp and a laugh escaped you as you realized what he had done. What he had written.
The soft flesh of your belly was now marked by six simple letters. A name.
Azriel.
“That’s… creative,” you chuckled. You had not expected him to come up with something like this, but the idea of having his name carved on your skin, if only for a couple days… the scent of your arousal grew stronger, covering the smell of humidity permeating the cell. “I like it,” you added, warmth spreading through you-
Azriel looked smug, as if he knew you would appreciate it. He knelt between your legs, flipping Truth-Teller in his hand so that he could press the hilt against your clit, drawing a quiet moan from you.
“I thought you might,” he murmured as he kissed your thigh. “You always love it when I leave my sign on you.”
You nodded, and your breathing became a bit shallow as the hilt slid toward your entrance. Your voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “I do…”
Azriel coated the handle of the dagger with your slick arousal. His eyes locked on yours, and he pushed it inside you. You whimpered, hips bucking, but the shadows tightened around your wrists and ankles, and you stilled.
Once the hilt was fully inside you, he began to slowly pump it in and out. Tendrils of darkness slithered up to your breast to swarm around your nipples, and your moans echoed along the stone walls.
“Is this what you wanted, love?” Azriel drawled. His hand rested on your thigh, squeezing gently. “For me to fuck you with the hilt?”
“Yes…” you murmured, the only thing you managed to get out.
You watched the black hilt disappear inside you, glistening with your wetness every time your mate pulled it out. You had suggested it, but you would have never imagined it would feel so good. And seeing his name written on your stomach… you clenched around the knife, fingers gripping the armrests and head falling back.
“So good…” you mumbled, though the words were a bit slurred.
Azriel smirked. “Yeah? You like having my dagger inside you?”
You nodded frantically. He sped up his rhythm right as the shadows swirled faster on your nipples, and you were already panting by the time his thumb joined in and started to draw circles on your clit.
“Fuck, yes…” you blurted. Your eyes fluttered close, and you were struggling against the shadow restraints, hips rocking to try and take the hilt deeper, though Azriel was careful not to hurt you.
You felt his dark chuckle skitter along your skin. “Show me just how good Truth-Teller can be,” he murmured, voice low and sultry. “Come on my blade, love.”
His fingers moved faster over your clit and with the next thrust of his dagger, you came undone. You shuddered, crying out as you tried to close your thighs, but the shadows kept you spread for Azriel to fuck you through your orgasm.
He slowed down once you came down from your high, leaving you panting and trembling. He pulled the hilt out and you opened your eyes to see him turning the knife to this side and that, watching the way your release was smeared over it. Meeting your gaze, he brought it closer to his lips and licked it clean.
The shadows disappeared, finally allowing you to move again. You traced a finger over the red letters on your stomach, then smiled as Azriel sheathed Truth-Teller at his thigh.
“See?” you said cheerfully, hands coming up to cup his face. “You can do good with it too. And now you can think of me every time you're down here.”
He was relaxed now, that haunting anguish completely gone from his eyes as he nodded with a soft smile.
You drew him in for a gentle kiss before resting your forehead against his. “And you can use it on me whenever you need a reminder.”
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General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings
Kinktober taglist: @thyellablackk @p1nkfluffysocks @maddieboo8 @a-courtof-azriel @whataenginerd @loviseamms @chaconnelatte @okaytrashpanda @scarsandallaz @velarisdusk @olive-main @krispypotato @scorpioriesling @fourthwing4ever @asaucecoveredsomething
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atrirose · 6 months ago
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꒰ 🍮 ꒱ SHUT UP AND KISS ME ! enhypen
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s : kissing them to shut them up ! ᆼᆽᆼ enha x f ! r .. ㅜㅜ warning : kissing duh + FLUFF ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱ seiu : had this for the longest time in draft and now baby is free !! for my srugulla @bywons
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— HEESEUNG LEE
“and he kept looking at you so i had to say something” your boyfriend rambled about how this cashier was checking you out infront of him, and as your boyfriend he took an offense to that “hee, calm down babe” you said still dragging him “no this is not for me to calm down like what is wrong with people? i am clearly there and he thought it is the perfect day to be- mmh”
you pulled him by his collar to reach your height, smacking your lips on his as he barely has the chance to register what is happening, he was shocked but he overcame that fast as he pulled you closer by your waist and deepening the kiss “are you calm now?” you questioned letting his collar go, he takes a deep breath basking in your smell “maybe if i can get couple more”
you smacked his shoulder as he smiled, completely forgetting about the cashier, he is so easily distracted when it comes to you it’s cute.
“babe, your chapstick taste good can i borrow it”
— JONGSEONG PARK
“do you not love me anymore?” jay sat right next to you on the couch as you were doing your assignment, its only been 4 hours since you started doing it and you wouldn’t mind taking a break but this assignment is due today and you have to do it no matter what “babe it’s not that, i just to need to finish this okay”
jay pouts as you continue typing on your laptop, if you told how he acted at home with you, all clingy and cuddly, no one would believe you, jay scoots closer to you making you side eye him “just tell me you don’t love me anymore and i will leave, not that hard” he said with wide eyes trying to tempt you “because i can clearly see you don’t care anymore, i have been pacing around for hours and you-mmmph”
you turned towards him, capturing him in a kiss to shut him up, “i promise just 4 more hours and then we can do anything you want okay” you said whispering against his lips as he smiles “okay”
“you’re mean to use my love against me to shut me up”
— JAEYUN SIM
“babe, he didn’t know stop sulking” you said at your evidently upset boyfriend, sitting in the passenger seat “he tried to ask for your number infront me, your boyfriend? that is insane” he kept on pouting and mumbling “only because he didn’t know, and he apologized too” you said driving into your garage “i don’t care? the damage has been done, my whole mood for today is ruined, because of a scum” he huffed
“hey now let’s calm down” you said holding his hand still in the parked car “no but just think about it” before he could ramble on and on you decided it better not to waste your day on some random stranger and kiss your pretty boyfriend’s lips, he relaxed in your kiss, his lips moving against yours as his hands traveled back of your head to bring you closer, deepening the kiss, you did start the kiss but you have no control over it now.
no matter how much you try, jake’s hands wouldn’t let you break the kiss “oh my gosh jake” you said catching your breath, he giggled, pecking your lips, he got out taking the groceries out, and just like that your boyfriend is happy as a dog who got called a good boy, if he had a tail it would be wagging.
“darling are you not coming? i want more kisses”
— SUNGHOON PARK 
“so you want to tell me something” you side eyed sunghoon “about what?” you asked having no idea what he is talking about “about how and let me sit down when i say this” he sat himself so close to you that he could probably see all the atoms making up your body “what are you talking about” you faced him
“jay asked when can he come to help you cook” you looked at him confused “why are you? wait so i dont understand what is wrong with that?” you asked “what’s wrong that is, you could have asked me, we could have cooked together” he said sulking, head on your shoulder like a slumped puppy “last time we cooked together, we burned jake’s pan” you said smoothing his hair as he grumbled incoherent words muffled on your shoulder “but that’s because we were kissing and i didn’t want to let go” as if that was any better to use it as an excuse. he got up from your shoulder “and anyways tell jay no, we can grill, cook, bake and anything on our own like we don’t need him- mmhm” you kissed him and he wined in defeat because you pulled this illegal move and there is no way he would let even a single kiss go.
his lips moved against yours, he smirked in between your kiss as he let his whole body fall on you due to which you fell back on the sofa, you both were sitting on, with him on top of you, you squirmed but he just kept going, slipping his hands onto your waist, holding you down “don’t use my trick on me doll” he said before kissing you again. at the end you had to canceled on jay as sunghoon never let you off the sofa. “your lips are swollen, sorry” he is not sorry he is clearly smiling a stupid grin. such a loser
“you’re like addiction”
— SUNWOO KIM
“so any particular reason why you haven’t responding to me for the past 30 minutes” you opened to let a very cranky sunoo in your apartment, he looked like he ran from his house to yours, “i’m sorry i was sleeping sun” you moved aside for him to enter, he removed his jacket, his white shirt was sticking to his body because of sweat, it is almost see through “im sorry did you run here?” you questioned still eyeing him.
“yes i did because someone said they would call me 30 minutes ago and then went blank” he said arms crossed, stilling breathing heavily “do you want water, im sorry babe it’s just-” before you could finish he already entered his mom mode.
“you have no idea how worried i was, i thought you got kidnapped gosh yn i actually ran so fast, and for your information i have never ran this fast and this much in my entire life” smack, your lips were on his, you tiptoeing to maintain the kiss, he was shocked at this sudden kiss but gave in, bending down and caging you between the wall and him, he picks you up as your legs looped around his torso “you sneaky little” he said eyeing you with a pout.
“you are very sly for this yn” you hugged him still mid air “it’s sticky sunoo” he hummed “bare with it, it’s all your fault im sweaty anyways” he walked over to your living hall, still carrying you.
“it’s insane how much you mean to me, and what i can do for you”
— JUNGWON YANG
“so?” you looked over your composed boyfriend, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed “so what yn” you are currently stuck on a ferris wheel which you forced your boyfriend to get on “i thought it would be cute, i didn’t know it would stop” you said dropping your head low “yeah well look what happened? it’s been 35 min since we got stuck up here and”
you didn’t know it would happen, come on you didn’t have magical powers to predict future, so you got up angry “what are you doing yn” jungwon looked at you with a confused look “look stay put, you will fall” before he could continue you leaned in for a kiss, falling in process but jungwon caught you still surprised at your kiss, your lips were still attached to his, as he pulled you in his lap to prevent you from falling, his hands traveled to your thighs to have a stronger grip on you “what are you doing? you are going to break bone falling like that” he said face only few centimeters away from yours “maybe i should keep on kissing you until we go down so you can shut up” he smiled.
“why don’t you try that”
— NISHIMURA RIKI
“so funny ha ha ha” riki said sarcastically as you looked at him “what are talking about” he glared at you “thought it was just you and me so why is this thing here” he eyed your friend who decided to join while you were out with your best friend or was it really just that?
“hey now that’s rude” you said as your friend laughed awkwardly “not like you both are dating so i decided it would be fine but if you both are awkward i can leave” your friend got up to go, before you could stop him riki spoke up “no we are leaving, you stay” he grabbed your hands dragging you out of the cafe “that was rude riki” he stopped “guess what i don’t care, i don’t care if it’s rude or not he was annoyingly close to you, you looked uncomfortable, he tried to get with you, he said we are not dating so it wouldn’t be a problem but guess what”
you shut him up by pulling on his jacket to lower him, you kissed his lips as his tensed body relaxed pulling you closer by the waist “shut up dummy, don’t you know there is a better way to keep boys away from me” you looked at his handsome face still confused “one more?” asked as you giggled and kissed him again “one more” you kissed him again “one more?” you stopped moving few inches away from him “wait yn” he tried to pull you back “no ! your free trial is over now” he pouted “so if i ask you out then?”
“then hmmm, i will see about it” you said as he hugged you, you felt a vibration as he giggled “i sure do hope the trail was only for me”
“will you be mine?”
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Shameless
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Warning ⚠️; internalized homophobia, Homelander is his own warning, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, fluff. 🔞
Pairing; Bottom!Homelander/Top!Male!Reader
Summary; John and you are two opposites. He is a comedian and a liar, you are bluntly honest and direct. He cares about his image, you don't. He is ashamed of your relationship while you are shameless.
~~~~~~~~~~~
You sat on the sofa sipping at your drink, eyes staring at John with amusement. Still in his costume, your lover walked in circle while biting his nail. He looked ridiculous in your eyes. All those fake muscles and the cape were too much. He looked always better naked, natural, and not so fake.
- “You are going to get yourself dizzy, my love. Just get out of those ridiculous clothes and come sit with me.” You said, waving your hand to show his costume. “We have so little time together, I would prefer having you by my side than whatever you are doing right now.”
John stared at you, eyes glowing red and you just laughed at him. You weren't scared, never was, because John couldn't kill you. No one could. It was part of your power, your curse, but in a moment like this, it was a blessing. Watching your lover get worked up for nothing was funny.
- “How can you laugh in such a situation?” John asked, voice hissing at you as you rolled your eyes. “Its a disaster! I cannot be seen like… like…”
- “Like the man you truly are?” You finished his sentence, sighing. “John, no one cares about that picture. Everyone will call it fake and those who don't, well who cares? Just discredit them and forget about it.”
John said nothing and looked away, his eyes back to normal. You shook your head as he kept walking around the room, trying to find a solution. You didn't understand him. Why come to you when you couldn't help when you were the source of this situation? Well, you weren't fully responsible. It wasn't you who had decided to kiss on a rooftop where anyone could see, that had been John.
And now there was a picture of you two kissing, your hands squeezing Homelander’s ass, circulating around the internet. It was, for you, hilarious. For John? The end of the world was happening.
- “Can't you stop being overly dramatic for five minutes?” You asked, harsher than you wanted.
You gasped in surprise as the back of your head hit the floor, hard, making you see stars. John had pined you down after knocking over the sofa and sat on you. You shivered, licking your lips as you plunged your gaze into his glowing one.
- “And can't you take it seriously for once? Don't you realize how serious the situation is for me? I am supposed to be perfect with no weaknesses and I can not be seen like that with another man.” John spat, his hand grabbing your chin painfully tight.
- “But you are not perfect John and you'll never be!” You replied with a sneer.
It was the wrong answer because next thing you knew John punched you and pain exploded in your jaw. Blood splashed all over your lover and you as your jaw hit the wall and fell onto the ground. From anger, John expression turned to horror as he realized what he had done. From amused, you became enraged.
You didn't gave John any chance and kicked him in the chest, sending the sup flying against the ceiling. You watched your lover fall loudly on the ground as you got up, spilling blood all over the place. You closed your eyes, pain swallowing you up as nerves, bones and everything else slowly regrew. Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you felt like your lower jaw was burning in the fiery pits of Hell.
You heard John begging, swearing he didn't mean to hurt you like that and you didn't care. What mattered was how he still did it.
You opened your eyes staring angrily at the hero still lying on the ground. You walked up to him and saw John tensing and closing on himself before you grabbed the man by the collar. Without a word, you back-slapped like he was a bitch, splitting open his lip before grabbing his jaw like he did to you. You leaned down until your nose brushed his.
- “Listen here you pathetic excuse of a man; you are nothing. You are not a hero, you are not perfect and you are not an inspiration. The only thing you are is a childish man who can't take no for an answer and can't live without the approval of the world.” Your words hit home as you saw tears building up in John’s eyes and you sneered again. “You are pathetic. Truly pathetic. The world loves the fake image of you and would turn on you at the first opportunity. Their love is conditional unlike mine and yet you chose those worms over me. I who had always been here for you no matter what. I who helped you bond with your bastard son and helped you when no one wanted to. I bloodied my hands for you! And after everything that how you thank me?”
Venom filled your words as you stared at your lover. John was silently crying and looked away, not daring to look at you. You felt betrayed, and humiliated. You did so much for that man child and he turned against you so easily. You didn't want to see him anymore, wanted him gone from your sight.
- “Think about it John. Who will take care of you when you are old and your body is betraying you? Who will be there for you when the world cheer for a younger and more attractive hero? Them? Your so-called fans? No. They won't, but I would have.” You said, turning your back to him as you walked away. “Now get out.”
- “I’m sorry! I didn't…” John tried but stopped as you turned your head, eyes filled with anger.
- “GET OUT.” You snarled.
And just like that John was gone. A soft breeze caressed your face after he flew away. Sighing, you cleaned the room and threw away your jaw. The pain still lingered and you massaged your chin before sighing. You hated fighting with John like that, but recently it was every other day. The more time passed the more he became unhinged and impulsive. You could barely recognize the man who sought love and attention, the man who melted under your hands at night seemed gone.
It was late that night when John came back. He didn't call, didn't text. He just showed up. You were in bed reading a book in the light of a candle when you heard your front door opening. Only John had a spare so you knew it was him.
He didn't come up directly and you ignored him. You were still angry at his stunt and, frankly, didn't wish to see him. Not right now, not tomorrow. But there he was, walking into your home as if it was his.
After a few minutes, you heard John walking up the stairs and coming toward your room. You didn't look up when he entered nor when he called your name with a timid and soft voice. Instead you clenched your book harder.
- “I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house, John. What are you doing here?” You asked, voice cold as you turned the page of your book.
Your lover didn't answer. Instead, John approached the bed and put down a mix of things; a gift basket filled with your favorite snacks and drinks and another full of books. Sighing, you closed your book and turned your attention on John.
There he stood in civilian clothes and his head low. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Had you not been angry at him you would have hugged John. But you were still pissed off.
- “I am so sorry for what I did and said.” John whispered, looking away as he sat on the edge of the mattress. “I have no excuses and you are right. You've always been there for me and you didn't deserve any of this, but I did.”
You could see tears in his eyes and the sight was almost pitiful. Of course, John couldn't live up with what he did and would regret his actions. You didn't. The brat had deserved your words and hands.
- “I don't want… I can not lose you…” John whispered so low that you barely heard it.
You sighed and leaned back against your pillows, crossing your arms and studying him. John was clearly remorseful and you knew he had his lesson, for now at least. Shaking your head you gently tapped the mattress next to you and John didn't wait to lay down. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face against your chest. You brushed his blond hair with your fingers, heart almost getting softer as you saw how happy he was now.
- “You are losing me, John. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you, but stop it. I don't have the patience to deal with your childish tantrum just because a picture of us leaked on the internet. We are celebrities, it's going to keep happening.” You said and your lover held you tighter. “Hush now. I forgive you this time, but I might not give you another chance.”
John nodded and didn't let go. You kept brushing his hair and let your fingers down his neck. He was cold, colder than normal and you could feel his heartbeat racing. He was scared and terrified which pleased you. Maybe he wouldn't go against you anymore, maybe he would stop thinking he could do as he wished.
After all, he was your pet, yours to use as you wished and you couldn't have a bad dog by your side. As much as you loved John, you didn't want him if he was to lose his mind and become a liability. But at that moment he looked so small and delicate in your arms, almost broken and you couldn't resist him.
You smiled as you felt his body relax against you as he slowly fell asleep. Maybe you could use his fear and remorse against him. Maybe you could force him to come clean about your relationship. Not now, the fight was still too fresh but soon enough he might give in. And once you were out to the world, John would truly be yours entirely.
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i-cant-sing · 6 months ago
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i was just minding my business like scrolling to find new fics to read since i was so so bored and while i was finding some delicious fics (ahem ahem: yandere big brother bakugou x little sister reader) ur post suddenly idk the word (lumitaw (its a filo word)) and i was screaming and immediately dropped what i was supposed to read to read yours 😭😭😭
i got the worst memory ever to exist because i keep forgetting their names but i think i'll grasp them once the next chapter is out (hopefully) but yeaaah!!! baris reminds me of abbas in a way but ig he's a bit more.. brute yk what im talking about????? ig he's ok..
OH! and i have a theory about the painting, y/n's face getting smudged maybe because baldwin or SALAUDDIN decided to smudged it to forget how they look due to heartbroken (prob not baldwin,, but i feel like salauddin would do that ??) i guess im getting married again 😔😔 i feel like im betraying my pookie salauddin 💔💔💔🙏🙏 BUT ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE SNOW!!!! AMAZING AS ALWAYS!! can't wait for the next one already!! 😭😭😭 i think i'll send more of my thoughts if something crosses over my mind (prob when im in the shower)
ooohh i like your theory(portrait pictures at the end). i like it a lot. expanding on it:
Baldwin would probably cause the painting to be smudged because he's kissing it, kissing your lips, drunk off his mind, tears streaming down his cheek as he spends hours sitting in front of it, talking to the painting as if u still exist, begging u to come back from heaven, even apologising for all he's done, just please- come back, angel...
Meanwhile Salauddin would probably be staring at your portrait angrily. He understands why you had to leave but.... you couldnt have told him where you were goinh? Do you not think he couldve protected you? He wouldve used his whole army, gathered Muslims from all around the world to protect you. Did you... did you not have the least bit faith in him? deep down, he knows u did this to prevent a war between him and baldwin but.... Salauddin wouldve gone to war for you. Happily. This wasnt your decision to make alone. Now, he stands in front of your portrait, he has it in his palace now, and he doesnt say voice it out like baldwin, but he has complaints. HE keeps them inside, mentally talking to you, telling you just how stupid you were for sacrificing yourself, for jumping off that stupid cliff. How u shouldve just- just asked him for help ONCE, and he wouldve fought until his last breath if it meant keeping u safe. In his mind, u sacrificed yourself to protect Baldwin from murdering innocent muslims or anyone else u wouldve seeked help from.
And now? All Salauddin can do is pray for you. He wakes up late into the night and sits on the prayer mat, making dua for you for hours, reading Quran for you, has animals slaughtered on eid on your behalf, even doing charity and hajj (pilgrimage) on your behalf, just so that you can have more good deeds in your name. He still has the chess board u gifted him, but he's stopped playing chess. He never played the game again, it was only a painful reminder of you. The one person who he could never beat.
As for your painting, why it was smudged? Salauddin didnt want anyone to see your beauty, thats why he kept the portrait hidden in his room, but then he feared that one day when he's not around anymore, someone will see you. So, he used a rag soaked in turpentine to smudge your face, but couldnt do more than just the bottom half of your face. He thought that was fine, after all, thats how u did often appear when you were around, wearing a niqaab, a veil that covered your face.
Now that he looks at your eyes, he realises his mistake. He heard the wise tell him-
"Eyes are the windows to the soul."
He now knows it to be true.
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This is what I think the portraits look like:
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Notice that this is the earrings Salauddin gifted Y/n when she was in the market with him:
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How Baldwin's been:
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charlesf1leclerc · 18 days ago
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Summary- one day your whole world turns upside down and where will your lives go from here 
Warnings- teenagers, smut , alcohol mentions, not thoroughly proof read ( so let me know if any major errors )
A/N- please note this story is only for entertainment and not in anyway linked to what real life people mentioned in this story may do or how they may act! 
SERIES MASTERLIST
9 months prior- 13th of November Lando’s birthday 
Lando’s house was buzzing who knew someone could have this many friends. I guess someone whose house is big enough to fit the whole year level will invite the whole year level.  But this was a bit extreme for only a 17th birthday. 
I didn’t really want to be here but in order to not get bullied and love a normal teenage life I had to experience the fun sometimes so here I was surrounded by a bunch of people I don’t like at a snobby boys birthday.
I don’t drink but there had to be some form of non alcoholic drink in this house so I escaped to the kitchen to look. As I stood in front of the open fridge I felt a presence beside me and then I saw him.
“ you good rummaging through my fridge “ 
“ maybe if you put some actual drinks out not just pure alcohol I wouldn’t have to”
“ you’re at a party sweetheart” he laughed
“I’m 17” I snapped
“Me too” he grinned 
“ none of use are allowed to be drinking and if we are drinking you should have a parental note”
“Ok now you have really brought the mood down”
“ why are you talking to me anyway lando? ” I sighed
“ just doing what I’m supposed to greeting my guests and stopping them from going through my stuff” Lando closed the fridge door and turned to the kitchen counter pouring liquid from a clear jug into a red solo cup.Before he walked over and handed it out to me 
“ what’s that?”
“ trust me, its lemonade” I take the cup and sniff it. It’s actually lemonade.
“ I didn’t forget about people like you” he smiled before walking away and going back to his friends
The night continued after my encounter with Lando Norris. My friends gossiped on the couches outside, we ate lots of food, danced, of course took the famous mirror selfies that would be posted on instagram later and the main event the cake.
The party was winding down and not many people were left anymore, I had to wait for Mad’s to finish her partying before leaving and she was having way too much fun with a particular person to be leaving anytime soon. So her I was sat on the couch in Lando’s living room.
“ your still here , abit pat your bed time I thought” and he was back , this time sitting next to me.
“ I have to wait for my friends otherwise yes I would be in bed” I kept my eyes straight ahead
“ well want to pass the time then” I looked at him confused
“ with what?” I asked
He simply just picked up the Nintendo controller and handed it to me 
“Mario?” He suggested 
“ what is it with you and your karting don’t you ever do anything else?” Still I did take the controller, I didn’t have anything better to do.
“ no I don’t “ he turned the TV on and started up the game. I was not nearly as professional as him, he took Mario kart very seriously but never the less it was still actually really fun, I didn’t know he could be so easy to be around.
I would say we had been playing for a good 30mins before I got bored of Mario Kart because Lando could never got bored of it.
“ what should we do now” he asked. He wasn’t tired? He wasn’t done spending time with me?
“ How about I go find my friend cause it’s getting really late” I laughed 
“ how about I kiss you” my eyebrows shot up, what. Say something , do something.
My ears must be deceiving me because there is no way he just said that to me.
“W-What?” I breathed out
“ you heard me”
“ did I? “ I asked softly
“ you did , I know you did and I also know you didn’t laugh and walk away”
Why didn’t I walk away, maybe I wanted to kiss him, maybe I wanted him to kiss me….
Ok I want him to kiss me!
I just lean in and somehow our lips are touching. They are also doing a lot more than touching, I’m actually kissing Lando Norris.
His left hand comes up to grab my jaw and pull me closer and my arms wrap around his shoulders. There’s no way this is actually happening someone better pinch me because it’s getting to good.
Then he stops. 
“ come to my room” no NO NO walk away this cannot be good. 
But I don’t want to walk away.
“ Or do you like everyone looking at us” he continues. It’s only then that I realise we are still in the living room and even if there is only a handful of guests left it still makes me feel awkward.
“ ok” is all I whisper out before he grabs my hand and takes my upstairs.
His room was surprisingly clean and neat, although it was still cluttered with karting posters , trophies and helmets. It was actually a nice room to be in.
Lando shut the door behind us before turning back around to me
“I’m gonna kiss you again “ he smiled
And I let him. Let’s just say I was about to let him do a lot of things. 
I ended up laying in the middle of his double bed in nothing but my bra and underwear as he hovered over me.
“ you sure this is what you want?” He tucked abit of hair behind my head.
“ I’ve never done this before” I replied
“ that’s why I want you to be sure” he didn’t want to push me and I respected that
“ I’m sure, positive , this is what I want”
He only smiled and then leant down catching my lips before trailing down my body.
This is what I wanted, who knows what would happen after this but I know that this is where I wanted to be and who I wanted to be with.
A/N- just so you know I won’t be going to hard with any sexual or smut scenes until both characters turn 18 which in the story isn’t that far away! But when I do put out more smut scenes please note you can feel free to skip past them as the story can still make sense if you skip them. Anyway hope your enjoying
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draconic-desire · 11 months ago
Text
A Dance With the Dragon II — Mates
Yandere Neuvillette x Reader
[Part I] [Part II — You are here] [Part III] [Part IV]
Neuvillette brings you to your new “home”, which also comes with new challenges.
Warnings: Emotional manipulation, forced imprisonment, Neuvillette accidentally goes a little feral here, brief non-con at the end
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One of the first things Neuvillette did was move you from the apartment at the Palais Mermonia (your prison for the past four centuries) to his personal residence. Securing his palms to your waist, he teleported you directly into the foyer of the massive home.
The interior was splashed with blues and whites that matched the Chief Justice’s own color palette. The upper walls were decorated with friezes depicting various marine creatures, from floating otters (how ironic) to bobbing seahorses. A grand spiral staircase led to the upper floor, while a set of double French doors connected the foyer to a massive living room adorned with plush love seats and armchairs, tasteful artwork of Fontainian landscapes, and enormous windows that overlooked the sea. It appeared the house was set into a cliffside, with the waves battering the rocks far beneath you.
You paced into the living room, running your hand along the blue silk couch cushions. To your left, a door led out to what appeared to be an inclosed courtyard with a miniature fountain. To the right was a closed door, a familiar dragon carved into its exterior. Your arm burned in resonance.
Though you were loathe to admit it, the place was beautiful.
“Do you like it?”
Shifting your gaze to him, it was clear that Neuvillette was desperate for your approval. Ever since he let you outside to discover the true length of your imprisonment, you had rarely spoken a word to him. Clearly, your silence had done a number on him, as the normally composed man was fidgeting nervously.
When you kept quiet, Neuvillette cleared his throat. “I admit, part of why things took so long was due to my insistence that everything be perfect for your arrival. I rearranged our bedroom perhaps a dozen times, and I couldn’t for the life of me decide what your personal room should entail.” When you glanced out towards the fountain, he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, that was a…sentimental addition. It makes me think of how we met.”
You’d never forget that Archons-damned fountain. If only you hadn’t been so naive. Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, go away.
Neuvillette extended his palm towards you in what appeared to be both a peace offering and an order. “Shall I give you a tour?”
Suddenly your feet appeared very interesting. What were you supposed to say? This technically was your home now, like it or not. You’d become painstakingly familiar with it with time. Although you weren’t imprisoned within the Palais as before, your new life still promised shackles nonetheless.
“Could you just show me my personal room?” You sighed. “I’d prefer to just rest after that.”
Neuvillette smiled softly, relishing the sound of your voice. “Of course.”
Twisting his fingers through your own, he led you towards the dragon door. Once again, your hidden tattoo pulsed with energy. It felt like a pull forward, a welcoming embrace. You realized then that there must be some sort of warding spell on this room, likely meaning only you and your captor could enter.
Marvelous.
Pushing the door open, Neuvillette swept his arm gracefully through the entrance. “After you, my love.”
You stepped in and immediately went still.
For in every direction around you was rows upon shelves upon stories of books.
Neuvillette had build you your own personal library.
And not just that. You noticed that entire sections pertained to your personal interests—marine biology, photography, even your personal favorite genres of novels. A separate door labeled Dark Room promised an avenue for you to pick up photography again. Similar couches and chairs as the living room were arranged around a huge coffee table, and a cracking hearth added to the cozy atmosphere.
Your throat bobbed. You had always dreamed of owning a room like this, a place where all your passions converged. But to have it under these circumstances…you didn’t know how to react, torn between frustration and a grateful little voice in the back of your head that you buried at once. No, I didn’t earn this. I don’t want this. It was forced on me.
All you could choke out was, “This is…mine?”
“Down to the last book.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “I spent the most time on this room. Over a century to get it right.”
You startled. A century? Your heart stumbled, but your hands fisted by your sides. So much given, yet what had it cost you?
Shaking your head, you simply said, “I’d like to be alone.” Connecting your eyes with his, you could see his hurt, the expectation of a grand reaction on your part that you refused to indulge.
However, the look was quickly wiped from his face, for he must have seen something broken in your facade. A muscle in his jaw feathered as he approached you, a gloved hand stroking your cheek. “I understand you must be overwhelmed. I’ll leave you to explore,” Neuvillette said, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading for the exit.
“Neuvillette?”
Said man turned back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Why me?” You grabbed your arm where the shadow of your draconic tattoo hid. “Why…all this?”
His gaze immediately softened. “My dear, we have centuries for me to show you.”
~*~
It was times when Neuvillette was vulnerable that it was hardest to hate him.
He had returned home after a long day at court to find you sitting in the courtyard on the edge of the fountain, peering up at the night sky as if the stars held some answers. Moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, and if he didn’t already think you a goddess, he would have pledged himself to you then and there.
You hadn’t noticed him yet, too involved in your own thoughts. True to his word, Neuvillette had given you time and space to enjoy your new (cage) home. You had to admit, it was a major upgrade from the Palais, and you knew the Iudex would continue to let you explore Fontaine, if you tolerated his presence beside you. However, you knew this dance wouldn’t last—it was only a matter of time before Neuvillette expected something in return. It was abundantly clear that he desired your affections, but how far would he go in order to sway you? To fully make you his?
A sea breeze whipped around you, eliciting an involuntary shiver to rip up your spine.
A sudden warmth enveloping your form brought you back to reality. Blinking in surprise, you peered up to see the Chief Justice smiling softly at you, his purple irises sparking with longing and care. His elaborate attire was gone, leaving only his pale undershirt.
He’d given you this coat.
“I…thank you,” you mumbled, averting your eyes from the man.
“Do my ears deceive me? Did my dear (Y/n) actually acknowledge me?”
Your grip on his robes tightened. “Don’t mistake my words for kindness. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”
A sigh. “Despite what you may believe, I’m not a monster.”
You deadpanned. “You’re quite literally the Hydro dragon.”
“Archons above,” Neuvillette whispered, glancing up at the sky as if it held the key to winning your heart. “I was referring to a monster in the definition you humans use.”
“What? You mean like a man who would kidnap and imprison an innocent person—”
“Considering you are not in the Fortress of Meropide, I’d hardly consider this imprisonment.”
“What, have I offended you?” A scoff left escaped you. “If you want to play house, at least own up to your actions. Don’t pretend you’re some sort of gentleman.”
Neuvillette was silent for a beat, his mouth a thin line. Unexpectedly, his muscles relaxed as he released his tension. He lowered his large frame, taking a seat next to you. “You’re right.”
You sketched a brow in surprise.
Neuvillette trained his eyes on his palms, facing upwards in his lap. “I understand neither what it means to be human, nor what it means to be a god. I was given this duty to protect and uphold the laws of Fontaine, and yet I cannot save those who need it most.” His fingers formed fists, and his lids closed solemnly. “Carole, Vautrin…all of the others I have failed…”
You worried your lower lip. Although he had already informed you of his friends’ fate in your absence, it was still a raw wound for the both of you. Yet the anguish in Neuvillette’s eyes twisted your heart. How could a man be so duplicitous, so capable of both justice and blind obsession?
As if sensing your conflict, Neuvillette gently took your face in his hands, tilting your chin so that your eyes locked once again. His eyes danced with silver sparks of emotion, like cracks of lighting across a dark sea. A thumb brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.
“So if I can protect but one thing, one person, I will do it.”
~.~
You often noticed that Neuvillette’s horns got stuck in his robes.
Honestly, it was kind of humorous. In the beginning, watching him struggle gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. You’d take any circumstance that inconvenienced him, however petty that might be.
But today, seeing the Chief Justice pouring over a case regarding the protection of Fontaine’s sea life at an ungodly hour, head propped on a fist to keep him awake, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic when he emitted a low hiss as his horns tangled into the ornamentation of his attire once again. “Damned human attire,” he cursed.
Neuvillette wasn’t an inherently bad man. In fact, your own case aside, he had invoked significant and positive change in Fontaine’s legal system. He judged cases fairly and prudently, working himself ragged each day to ensure the nation’s safety. It would have been admirable to you in any other circumstance.
You didn’t know what possessed you when you stepped behind him and carefully untangled his twin blue horns.
At your touch, Neuvillette immediately froze. His heart rate skyrocketed and his mind went blank because you were touching him.
And not just anywhere, but his horns. Unbeknownst to you, a dragon’s horns were the most sensitive part of its body, only to be handled by itself or its mate. One brush was akin to a lovers embrace, the whisper of a kiss, the hot breath shared between partners in the thralls of passion. Not only was the touch intensely intimate, it was also an acknowledgement—an acceptance of the male’s advances onto his partner.
Oh, if only you knew how many times he had fantasized about this, your acknowledgement of him and his love for you. Although his rational, human side knew your touch as unintentional, the dragon within Neuvillette reared and roared against his skin, demanding to be set free upon its mate.
“Your horns were caught,” was all you said as you settled back into the sofa, flipping to the marked page of your novel.
If you had looked up, you would have witnessed the Iudex gently touching his horns in awe. He swore he could still feel the brush of your palm against him, shivering delightfully at the mere memory of your touch.
Little did you know that your simple act of kindness would unleash the storm.
~*~
The one unfortunate deviation of your current accommodations from the Palais Mermonia was Neuvillette’s unyielding insistence on sharing a bed.
You had foolishly thought escaping him, even if just within the confines of your shared home, would be simple. You believed the library, what he even referred to as your room, would be your bedroom as well. Despite the lack of an actual bed, the plush couches and ever-lit fire provided more than enough comfort to lull you to sleep.
But when you had opened your eyes, you were mere inches away from Neuvillette’s shirtless, sleeping form.
You had assumed it was due to the draconic symbol guarding the room; perhaps it linked you to him more than you had thought. So, the next night, you decided to sleep in the parlor instead.
Only for your hopes to be shattered the next morning when you awoke not only in bed with your captor, but with your limbs entwined.
Anger, shame, and a touch of something you couldn’t quite place—something not entirely unpleasant—flooded you as you tore yourself out of his embrace. How was he doing this? Was it magic, or would he physically carry you to bed each night?
This pattern repeated itself. You would pick various places around the huge house to retire for the night. However, you would wake up in bed next to Neuvillette each morning without fail.
You had even reverted to your previous stubbornness and slept on the ground a few nights, but to no avail. It seemed you were bound to his bed.
Tonight, you decided to face the issue head-on. You stormed up the stairway and into the spacious bedroom, ignoring the pain in your lower back due to all the errant surfaces you had tried to sleep on. The downy pillows and lush, cream comforter practically begged you to surrender to the king-sized bed and its occupant.
Instead, you halted at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms. “You have to stop this.”
Neuvillette immediately looked up from the tome in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. He hadn’t yet changed out of his white dress shirt, and the buttons revealed a hint of his toned chest as he set the book down. “And what exactly are you demanding I stop?”
You huffed a laugh. “I wish I could say all of this,” you waved your hands around, as if that would convey the entirety of the situation, “but I mean putting me in your bed each morning.”
“Our bed,” he corrected, as if that were the issue.
“No, your bed. Are you really telling me that with all this space, you can’t just let me sleep alone?”
He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them on the nightstand. “I could, but I don’t want to.”
You seethed. “Well, I do.”
Neuvillette’s violet gaze pinned you with something like hurt. “Have I truly done something to upset you? It seemed as if you were settling into our new home quite nicely. Our conversation and touches were…” His throat bobbed. “Pleasant.”
You narrowed your eyes and bit out, “Don’t take any of that as complacency. You’re still a monster.”
Neuvillette flinched in response and, for just a moment, you felt a piece your heart falter. That is, until he whispered, “Mates don’t sleep apart.”
The room went utterly still.
Your voice came out as a breath of air, but the words were clear: “I am not your mate.”
It was then that you noticed the claws emerging from his fingertips, piercing into the sheets under his form. His eyes flashed silver, dangerous as knives. You could have sworn you saw a pair of elongated canines as he grit his teeth. “You have no idea how difficult it has been,” he breathed, voice tight, desperate.
On instinct, you took a pace back. You suddenly felt like a cornered animal, unable to avert your gaze from those claws that looked ready to tear into you. Clearly you had misjudged the situation—the Hydro Dragon was a starved, deadly predator, and you were practically served on a silver platter as its next meal.
Icy panic raced through your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, so out of control and inhuman. Trying to mediate the situation, you put your hands up in surrender. “Neuvillette, listen to me. Just calm down.”
You had hoped that saying his name would do just that, but it seemed to only rile him up further. The Chief Justice of Fontaine actually growled in response. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. “You deny your mate, and now you’re telling me to simply calm down?”
Another step back. Just put out the fire and deal with the consequences later. “I apologize for being confrontational. I think it’s best if I just go—”
Before you could react, Neuvillette pounced forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you onto the bed. You released a cry and tried to scramble away, but he spun you around and pinned your back against the mattress with his muscular frame. He loomed above you on all fours, his hands gripping your arms and applying just enough pressure to hold you still without hurting you. The glint in his eyes, however, promised pain that was yet to come. You were the prey about to get its throat torn out.
“Wh-what are you doing?” You struggled, heart skyrocketing at the feel of his arousal pressing against your core.
"Something I’ve needed to do for four hundred years," he growled huskily, his breath fanning your lips moments before they slammed against yours.
The kiss was hungry, predatory. Obsessive. You could feel the release of each year, each century, as his mouth devoured yours. You arched your back in an attempt to get away, but Neuvillette was quicker. He lifted your form easily and slammed your back against the bed once again. At your gasp of shock, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
You fumbled around for something, anything that you could take purchase of. Your arms were pinned, but you were just barely able to grab onto the first thing and tug: his horns.
Neuvillette moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent heat flooding through you.
It was in that moment you realized your mistake. You recalled how some marine animals with horns had millions of nerves within them, making these appendages a source of sensory stimulation. When you had started adjusting his horns after they were getting stuck, it must have been like touching his—
Oh, fuck.
Neuvillette released you arms, grinding against your thigh. “Do that again,” he begged, though it came out as more of a growled order.
“Neuvillette, stop—” An involuntary whine escaped your lips.
Your lewd noises only instigated him. His movements became more erratic as he slid a clawed hand up your leg and to your core, which was protected by only a nightgown. You jerked as his finger pinched your clit, eliciting another whine.
Neuvillette’s eyes sparked with heat, dual purple flames that devoured your form. “That’s it, my dear. Let me take care of you.” He bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out. He was marking you before he took you fully.
“Tonight, you become more than my wife. You become my mate.”
~*~
You laid there limply in Neuvillette’s arms. He peppered you with kisses and whispered words of protecting you and lofty dreams of your future together, but it fell on deaf ears. None of it made you forget about the bites along your neck or your throbbing core.
You couldn’t believe you had let his kindness fool you for even a second.
You had to escape this prison.
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saphig-iawn · 2 months ago
Text
Slipping Through Her Fingers
As readers of my writing will know, I enjoy the word bind.
It holds such a simple and powerful energy.
Today, a doll experienced it for the first time.
After some gentle fractionation, she was nestled softly on my lap, her mind blissfully still.
I brought a spool of green ribbon from my pocket and began thread it between her fingers.
A smile warmed on her face.
I then began to encircle her wrists with it.
Her breath hitched in her throat.
I spoke the spell into the ribbon, and let its silk impart the spell into her skin.
I described to the ribbon all the ways in which it could encircle this doll, bind her, restrain her, control her.
The ribbon whispered its purpose into her as it graced her skin.
After she woke, we started simple; a beautiful escalation of helplessness.
First I tied her wrists together. The spell pulled them together like magnets. She bit her lip in arousal.
Then I tied her feet to the floor. Her body calmed as the spell anchored her in place. Her hips bucked in her chair.
Then I sealed her lips. Her voice restrained like the rest of her body. Her eyes rolled.
I teased and toyed with her, her stifled pleads sounding like music to my ears.
When I released her bonds, she found herself so very worked up, and I told her that she could enjoy herself and work at that pent up pleasure.
But my teasing wasn't done.
I told her to tell me when she was close, and the good doll she was she told me when she was on the blissful edge.
That was when I bound her mind, mummified it in my ribbon.
The grip on her length slackened in an instant and her hand fell to her side. The arousal on her face washed away. She was just a passenger in her body. Trapped behind glass, banging away at it in the hopes to break through. I watched her climax withdraw in every throb of her needy cock.
When I released her mind, her back arched instinctively as she bit her lip and her eyes rolled. Her eyes begged me to let her continue.
So I did, but just as she was close again, I bound something else.
Something deep.
Something intimate.
I spoke my ribbon around her climax and stole it away, but I could see there was an ounce of doubt in her face as she stroked.
But then her pace quickened. She groaned with gritted frustration. Her eyes clenched shut as she began to press her hips in her hands.
Then it hit her. A cold flash of realisation that the climax she had been kept from had just slipped through her fingers. That no matter how much she tried, she would never feel that relief until I said so.
She begged, and she moaned, she wanted it with every fibre of her being.
But I continued to deny, I wanted her so pent up that she'd forget her name when the climax arrived.
I bound and gagged her, asked her again if she wanted to cum, but all she could do was hum and moan. So I began to act as though she didn't want to, that after all of that she was ok with being edged. She squirmed and bucked in her bonds so I ungagged her and let her continue.
Her eyes pouted at me as she gestured with her hands that were bound above her head.
She wasted no time in chasing that which she had been denied after i untied her.
She got closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Almost at the edge and-
Limp.
Mindless.
Thoughts trapped in ribbon as I bound her mind.
All of her arousal was silenced.
But I didn't leave her there for long, she had earned her climax now.
I released her mind and began to encourage my sweet little edge slut, getting her closer, telling her she will cum.
As the orgasm began to build, I started a countdown from 10 with each number extracting the pleasure from her.
She practically ragdolled in her chair when she finally came. Her moans no longer silenced, she gripped her thighs and let loose the moans I had stolen away.
When she finally began to recover, she couldn't help but hide her face. I could feel the joy that was beaming out from her smile even from behind her hands.
Bind is such a powerful word.
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