#sub!Fem OC

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Maid x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :)

Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Butler (side character) calls reader “Mistress”

Danger level: ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡ ♡

Yandere!Maid who looks at the castle in front of him, then the flier in his hands, then the castle again. Unless there was a typo in the address, the job interview should be here. He hesitantly uses the bat shaped door knocker and waits...This place looks so creepy and ominous, was this a prank ? Was it to scare him? Seriously? Sigh…He has had enough of being treated like a fool. As he continues his descent into frustration, bitterness and self-pity, he doesn’t hear the door opening. Nor does he see the butler standing at the entrance until he hears a: “Sorry for the wait, my kind sir. Are you here for the housekeeper position?”.

Yandere!Maid who thinks the butler is telling him a load of bullshit. According to him, the owner of this place is a vampire in search of additional staff members. He resists the urge to scoff. Whatever, if the “mistress” wants to take part in some weird role-play, then so be it as long as he would get paid. The same guy tells him to “please take a seat” in the living room and that “mistress will come and attend to you in a moment”. Soon after his departure, the air shifts. Black particles float around until it materializes something, or rather someone. The poor boy's shock and confusion quickly turn into enchantment. Fuck, you are totally his type. This is bad, he can feel his face burning. “Shall we go to my office?”, you ask with a smile.

Yandere!Maid who hates you. Who hates the fact that your personality matches your looks. Who hates how much control you have over him. The other day, your...pet sneezed on him, so he needed another uniform. “It seems that I only have a female one left ”, you told him. “There is no way in hell I am wearing that”, he sneered. “But wouldn’t you look cute in it? Besides, it is either that or cleaning with your normal clothes on until your new uniform arrives here-” “Alright, shut up, just give me that”, he abruptly took the offending dress from your hands and went to change. Since that conversation, his work attire has fully transitioned to said maid outfit. Maybe he becomes a bit too proud of himself whenever he catches you staring at him. And maybe, just maybe he wants to give you a nice view by bending down and taking his time “to clean the table” whenever he knows you are behind him. He will never admit that though.

Yandere!Maid who, one day, demands asks you about your eating habits. As soon as you answer, something regarding animal blood, he turns oddly quiet. You are about to ask what is wrong, but then he surprises you by climbing into your lap. You watch him get comfortable and, with trembling hands, undo the first buttons of his dress. The cherry on top is him pulling on its collar a bit to show a silver of his chest. He now avoids eye contact as he waits for you to take the lead…You are still just looking at him, so, with a blush becoming darker, he snaps at you: “A-are you stupid or something ? Do you want me to spell it out-” “I am just enjoying the view”, you respond with a teasing smile. Before he can sputter more insults, you grip his chin and tilt his head to the side, exposing his neck to your hungry gaze. “But if you insist…Thank you for the meal <3”

Yandere!Maid who has his face buried deep in his pillow while he tries to calm his flustered self down. After you finished drinking from him, he hurriedly got up and scurried to his room without so much as a word. The more he recalls the embarrassing noises he made in front of you, the more mortified he becomes. It was not his fault, it just felt really good and you even pulled him closer and tugged on his hair and-He whines and squirms in his bed as he feels his body turning hot again like that time. The action causes him to feel a sharp sting on his neck. He freezes. That is right. You marked him. You marked him. You marked him.

...

Don't drink from anyone else, ok?

[drewswife]

summary — while getting ready for a case with the team your crush spencer walks in with a new haircut and ur a mess

pairings — pining!reader x oblivious!spencer

warnings — fluff, garcia and morgan being a tease, you are pining and being very obvious about ur crush and use of y/n

The bullpen was a familiar hum of activity, a comforting chaos of keyboards clacking, phones ringing, and the low murmur of conversations. You, however, were a hurricane of barely contained panic. Today was the day you were presenting the preliminary findings for the "Silver Serpent" case, a particularly nasty serial killer who left behind cryptic riddles and a trail of victims. And while the case itself was enough to tie your stomach in knots, there was another, far more pressing issue at hand.

You glanced at your reflection in the darkened computer screen. Your hair, usually a cooperative entity, had decided to stage a rebellion this morning, escaping its ponytail in frizzy tendrils around your face. The dark circles under your eyes, a testament to another night spent poring over case files, seemed to have deepened into permanent fixtures. And your shirt, which had seemed perfectly acceptable when you'd stumbled out of bed, now felt… lopsided. You sighed, defeat settling heavy on your shoulders. You were, in short, a mess.

"Rough morning, Y/N?" Garcia's voice, bright and teasing as always, cut through your self-pity. She sauntered over, a mischievous glint in her eyes, a giant, novelty mug clutched in her hand. "Looks like you wrestled a badger and lost."

You grumbled, running a hand through your rebellious hair. "Something like that. This Silver Serpent is really getting to me."

"Or," Morgan chimed in, leaning against the doorframe of your office, a smirk playing on his lips, "is it the anticipation of a certain doctor gracing us with his presence?"

You felt a blush creep up your neck. Garcia giggled, a sound that usually charmed but now felt like a thousand tiny needles. You shot them both a glare that held no real heat. "You two are impossible."

"We just care, Y/N," Garcia said, though her grin betrayed her. "We want you to look your best for… professional reasons, of course."

"Of course," Morgan echoed, winking.

Just then, as if summoned by their teasing, the glass doors to the bullpen swished open. Your breath hitched.

Spencer.

He walked in, head held high, a stack of books precariously balanced in one arm, a steaming mug in the other. He was wearing his usual tweed jacket, a little rumpled but charmingly so. And then you saw it.

His hair.

oh god his hair

It was shorter, neatly trimmed around his ears, the curls still there but more defined, framing his face in a way that highlighted his sharp cheekbones and intelligent eyes. It looked… good. Really, really good. And suddenly, your own disheveled appearance felt even more glaring.

Hotch, who had just entered the bullpen, paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Spencer's new look. A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "Reid," he said, his voice a low rumble that carried across the room, "what? Did you join a boy band?"

A few heads turned, and a couple of agents chuckled. Spencer, however, seemed oblivious, or perhaps chose to ignore it.

Garcia and Morgan exchanged a look, their grins widening impossibly. You could practically hear their silent commentary: Exhibit A: The object of Y/N's affections. Exhibit B: Y/N's immediate meltdown.

Spencer, still oblivious to the silent drama unfolding around him, made his way to his desk, setting down his books with a soft thud. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. A small smile touched his lips. "Good morning, Y/N."

"M-morning, Spencer," you stammered, feeling your cheeks flush even deeper. You busied yourself with shuffling papers on your desk, pretending to be intensely focused on the case files.

"So," Garcia whispered, leaning closer, "new haircut, huh? I wonder who he's trying to impress."

Morgan hummed in agreement. "Definitely trying something new. And it's working."

You ignored them, or at least tried to. Your mind, however, was a whirlwind of self-deprecating thoughts. He probably thinks I look like I slept in a dumpster. He's so put-together, and I'm… this.

The team gathered for the briefing, and you found yourself inexplicably seated across from Spencer. Every time he shifted, every time he ran a hand through his newly shorn hair, you felt a jolt. You tried to concentrate on Hotch's calm, authoritative voice, on the details of the Silver Serpent's latest taunt, but your gaze kept drifting.

"Y/N," Hotch said, his voice cutting through your reverie, "your thoughts on the psychological profile of the unsub?"

You blinked, scrambling to pull your thoughts together. "Right. Uh… the unsub seems to be highly intelligent, meticulous, and derives pleasure from intellectual superiority. The riddles are designed to challenge law enforcement, to showcase his own cleverness." You managed to articulate the points, but your voice felt a little shaky.

Spencer nodded, his eyes on you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I agree. The narcissistic tendencies are quite pronounced. The choice of 'Silver Serpent' suggests a desire for both cunning and a certain refined elegance in his crimes."

Your heart did a little flutter-kick. He agreed with you.

As the briefing wrapped up, Garcia caught your eye and mouthed, 'Good job, Y/N! Even when you're distracted by pretty boys.' You narrowed your eyes at her, but a small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips.

Later, as you were packing up your bag, Spencer approached your desk. Your stomach did another nervous flip.

"Y/N," he began, his voice soft, "I was wondering if you had a moment to discuss something related to the Silver Serpent case?"

"Of course," you said, trying to sound professional and not like your brain had just short-circuited.

"I've been reviewing some of the symbolism in his riddles, and I had a thought about the recurring motif of the ouroboros. I believe it might represent a cyclical nature to his crimes, perhaps tied to a specific date or anniversary." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "I know you've been working tirelessly on the psychological profile, and your insights have been invaluable."

You felt a warmth spread through you. He valued your insights. He'd noticed your hard work. And he was standing so close, his new haircut making him look even more… approachable.

"That's a really interesting theory, Spencer," you managed, your voice a little breathy. "I hadn't considered the ouroboros in that context, but it makes a lot of sense given his desire for intellectual dominance."

He smiled, a genuine, open smile that made your knees feel a little weak. "Perhaps we could go over some of the historical and mythological interpretations of the ouroboros later? I have a few books that might shed some light on it."

"I'd like that," you said, perhaps a little too eagerly.

As Spencer turned to head back to his desk, you saw Garcia and Morgan giving you twin thumbs-ups from across the bullpen. You rolled your eyes, but a genuine smile finally broke through your earlier anxiety.

🏷, @sleepysongbirdsings @spencerreid66 @khxna @raysmayhem-72 @multiversefanfics @starrii-sturns

[bunnis-monsters]

Just find it so cute when a puppy!hybrid does something wrong so they roll onto their back and expose their belly hoping you’ll forgive them by showing submission…

And it’s hard to stay mad at them when they’re making kneading motions in the air and giving you those puppy dog eyes… but fortunately you’re a human, not a hybrid, and those puppy mannerisms only get them so far.

So you get on top and punish them with blowing raspberries on their belly, keeping them pinned under you. They yelp and squeal, kicking their legs and letting out little barks until you pull away, satisfied.

“Stop chewing up my stuff, pup. You know better. Next time, I’ll bite you too.”

But this just makes them all horny, feeling hot and bothered at your asserting yourself…

[meganegatari]

i was busy having a mental breakdown only i saw this art and just about creamed my pj pantaloons so i needed to do something about that!!!!! cait i love you my beautiful princess with a couple disorders but that should be me RAHHH hi vi nation i have something for yall (also written in like 2 seconds be nice)

nsfw drabble—overstimming vi. 18+ content. sub!vi, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, brief mention of masturbation, vi body hair mention (you already KNOWWW) + aftercare.

orgasms climbing high into the double digits—yet you still weren't done with her. actually far from it, you felt like pushing her buttons, both literally and figuratively.

vi is spent, so limp and exhausted laying next to you, powdery blues begging for your mercy. but you didn't falter. you sat on your knees to the fiery haired woman's side, your fingers—coated with her slick from previous rounds—prancing upon her defined abs. you traced from under her ribcage, to each individual muscle on her torso, down to the wispy strands of magenta hair of her happy trail increasing in thickness until you reached the vermillion tangle resting on her mound, but before you could part her swollen lips once more, you heard her wince from above.

“fuck babe— s'too much, im- hahh, i dunno how much more…” she trails off, her whiny voice music to your ears, the sweetest candy to your sadistic soul.

her eyelids fluttered open while her chest heaved and head lolled against the pillow underneath—strings of hair stuck to her forehead. her face was shiny, with sweat or even tears, it made her shimmer. the apples of her cheeks were as crimson as prime picking season, a stark contrast from the vulgar mess between her trembling thighs.

her hips twitch—the smallest jerk upward—paired with a woeful plea from her clenched jaw, she needed you again. enough time had passed, and you were ready to give her everything you had.

“one more?” you quip at her, honeyed voice deepening her blush.

with that, she manages a brisk nod.

and like so, that was your cue to resume your descent.

you watch her like a hawk, grazing her skin with an agonizing feather-light touch, revel in how her breathing visibly quickens—gods this sexual intimacy was otherworldly.

tattooed biceps rise to shield her face, arms crossing and settling atop her eyes, but you still had a good view.

your stare unmoving, you skip down to tease her inner thighs, kneading the flesh lovingly—playing with the webs of essence that decorated her.

a whine fills the air, she was growing impatient.

you comply, finally moving your hand up to where she needs you most, you part her and break your line of sight away from her face to marvel at how she sucks your middle two digits in, her back arching.

she lets out a breathy moan—an unguarded sound that makes your own core ache, and you find her thumping clit and press on the bud with your thumb.

you see her mouth fall open, her shallow heaves quickly turning into animalistic pants, the release was bubbling inside her already.

you begin to circle her bundle of nerves gently, your two digits simultaneously pumping in and out of her quivering walls—her sounds only growing more and more lewd. this was pornographic, but the way she didn't hold back flipped a switch inside you.

you press down harder, then flick her swollen clit up and down until she jolts, your assault on her g-spot inside causing spurts of pearlescent cum to land on your hard at work forearm.

you were so mesmerized, so focused, you could even call it entranced by her. you had to fight the urge to shove your free hand down your own undergarments and soothe the build up there but you resisted, this was about her.

her whimpers and groans came in time with your rhythmic, regular thrusts, you felt her pussy spasming as another orgasm rushed through her, overtaking her entirely.

the sight, the syrupy squelching sounds and the smell of her sex drove you insane.

you continue to fuck her all the way through the high, until her eyes were welling up with tears and her knuckles lost their color from how hard she was gripping at everything around her—her hair, the sheets, you.

when it got too much, she squirmed away from you instinctively, and you obeyed to not hurt her. you'd never do so.

“you're so fucking hot vi, fuck—the things you do to me…” you mutter under your breath, taking in the sight of her fucked out form. she really was ethereal.

you put your fingers in your mouth to clean up, sighing at her sweetness.

she continued to lay there before you, only this time with a faint smile on her pretty lips.

her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful. before she fell asleep you dashed to get a damp washcloth and very gingerly wiped up the remnants of her pleasure from her creamy skin, grinning all the while.

when you were done, you tossed it to the side and joined her horizontally, nuzzling into her embrace.

deciding to make a joke, you try, “what do you say, one more?”

luckily you're met with a belly laugh from your love, and a playful shove to your shoulder.

“not a chance. next time it's your turn, i'll make you cum until you cry.”

taglist: @vifilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @ellabbss @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @imdrowningindespair @spncrrdlvr @cheyisagirlkisser @thatgyalfisher @eroselless @i-dont-know-00 @ithinkimfuckincrazy @liaponderstings @lesbian-useless @slutzandcuckz @finalgirllx

[debonairprincesposts]

well hello! what do you think about jason’s tits (those that he does not assume that are very big titties)?

Well my dear reader! I think that his tiddies don’t get enough attention. Like- imagine this:

Jason and you are just chillin’ on the couch and you wanna lay your head on a soft surface of sorts. And what do you know! His tiddies are just within reach. So, you just plop your head on there and pretend that you don’t know what your actions are doing to him. You can hear his heartbeat speeding up (he told you once before how sensitive his chest is and you just happen to put your head extremely close to his nipple. So your cheek is just moving his shirt where it lays as it just barely grazes his skin and it’s making him shudder and squirm in his seat. You smirk to yourself at his reaction).

Another time is when you feel kinda stressed and wanna just squeeze something. So, you just come up from behind him while he’s minding his business in the kitchen, and just casually cup his pecs and start squeezing and massaging them and playing with his nipples from over his shirt, twisting, pulling, and pinching while he subtly (it’s not subtle to you at all, you can read him like an open book) shakes and lets out little gasps where he stands and starts to lean against the counter for support as if to will himself to not completely submit to you and let you take him right then and there on the kitchen floor.

It’s gotten to the point where every time he spots you in the vicinity, he prepares himself and expects you to just come up from behind him and start your assault on his tits. (he doesn’t hate it, he’d just like a warning when it happens)

Every time you compliment him on having such plush, soft tits while teasing him, he quietly whines saying that they’re not tits or something (it doesn’t take long to convince him otherwise.)

I think it would go something like this:

“Look at how wonderful these are,” you say as you squish them together. You’re sat atop his lap as he lays back on the couch, shirt off. “I could play with these all day. Such pretty tits, don’t you agree, Jason?”

His breaths come out in soft gasps as you continue to twist and pinch at his chest.

“Not tits,” he gasps out while lightly shaking his head, “They’re not.” He’s tightly gripping onto your waist as you unhurriedly grind atop his groin which causes a soft mewl to escape his lips.

You grin at his reaction and grab one of his hands and place it on one of his tiddies and squeeze.

“Yeah, they are.” You say as you use your other hand to guide his chin to make him glance down. “Look at them, Jay. Aren’t they pretty?”

His face is red at he looks down at his chest, his breath catches in his throat as he takes a proper look, full of hickies and bright red bite marks from your previous ministrations. Your grinding isn’t helping at all. He might come in his pants if you keep that up. He moans as you keep up with your actions. Curious if you could get him to cum from just touching his chest and light pressure on his groin.

A reedy sound brings you back to the present (the color on his chest from your attention was distracting.) Lost in your thoughts from admiring your work. He looks mesmerizing. Eyes dilated so much that you can barely spot the teal of his irises, his eyes appearing almost completely black. His face is practically the color of his helmet, it’s almost impressive. Shudders leave his body as he completely sinks back onto the couch.

You use the hand that grasping his chin to point it to the side as you lean in to leave more bruises on his neck, your grinding unfaltering. His moans increase in volume as you bite and suck on his sweet spot right at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

The hand that’s on your waist twitches, his mouth opens in a silent moan as he gasps loudly while throwing his head back on the back of the couch as he gives a full body shiver, cum staining the inside of his pants.

You stop your actions as you take a minute to admire the fucked out look on his face.

You lean your face close his ear as you say, “Think your tits are pretty now, Jay?”

He shivers from the air brushing against his ear. He nods with a quiet whine, sounding out an almost inaudible “uh-huh”, unable to get any more words out.

You grin in victory, “There you go.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

I think I went over board. It was only supposed to be a few sentences long.

Didn’t even know I could write like that.

Anyway! Hope that answers your question!

[stlllle]

I hate when I go read a fanfic and it feels like I’ve already read every single version of that story. Nothing ever feels new anymore, it’s so frustrating 😔

[drytacomeat]

Yandere!Femboy who lowkey plotted on your friendship. You hung out with him almost every single day. On days that you would be busy, he would text you and send you cute pictures of him being so lonely without you! He wanted your attention on him only.

He also was insanely jealous of your other friends, usually glaring at them every interaction they had. He wanted you all to himself! Sue him! He loved you! You just didn’t know it yet.

Yandere!Femboy who noticed that you rarely talked to anyone in a romantic sense. That was amazing for him, of course! You were his! But when you went to go use the bathroom during one of your movie nights and left your phone open, he noticed you were texting some random guy from Uni. He quickly set him straight, stating that you had a boyfriend and that he should absolutely fuck off!

He deleted the messages before you got back, and all you were left with was finding out that the guy had randomly blocked you. You were confused and hurt, but your yandere was right there to comfort you.

That guy was a dick anyways!

Yandere!Femboy who began sending you soft porn basically shortly after that. He had to show you that you were his. You knew he bought lingerie as you usually went shopping for it with him. Oddly…he only ever bought something when you said that you liked it. He’s also bought you copious sets to match his. It would just be cute he claimed!

He would send you pics of him in the cute little panties, fat ass front and center as he pouted at the camera doing a cute little peace sign.

He usually sent ass pics and you always replied with heart eyes and such, but one day, he sent you a picture of him in polka dot boy shorts. Instead of his ass, he was showing the front of the panties. His cock was fucking hard, straining against the fabric.

When you first saw it, your eyes widened because what the actual fuck! He just sent you a dick picture! And his cock was huge! He was a short something, about the same height as you. How was he packing all of that?!

Yandere!Femboy who just became more and more vulgar as time went on. More cock pics in panties, thongs, shirtless. Poor you…it would only get worse.

Yandere!Femboy who was ready to make you his, so his advances became much more noticeable.

It started with the kisses. He went from giving you little pecks to giving you full blown kisses. Your lips glided together, passionately. The kisses didn’t last particularly too long, but you would close your eyes and lean into him when he would stroke your face gently.

He would pull away from the kiss as though it was the most casual thing with a little “Hey!”

At first you thought it was a bit…much, but he continued kissing you like this until it became your new normal. You didn’t mind anyways. He was a great kisser after all.

[oneforthemunny]

living in a material world |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you have a new year's resolution to save money, and eddie is more than willing to help you. based off this no spend prompt idea

contains: minors dni. smut, smut, smut!!! dom/sub themes. everything is consensual. it's kinda soft!dom in a way?? not super bratty or super hard dom. dom!eddie / sub/brat!reader. spanking. alcohol. oral male and fem receiving. aftercare duh. language. shopaholic reader lol. they love each other and they're really kinky and horny.

word count: 8k+

New Years Eve, 1989 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” 

Arms folded over your chest, you stepped out onto the back patio of Steve Harrington’s home, the bitter chill of the night sending your body into a near shock. It was cold, so cold you were surprised it wasn’t snowing; too cold for Eddie to be sitting out in. 

“Hi, baby,” Eddie mumbled, lips wrapped around the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips. A cloud of smoke exhaled with his words, the familiar burning of nicotine filling the air, luring you to him. “Just came out for a smoke.”

“Hm,” You hummed, slinking with careful dragging steps towards the metal lawn chair he was sitting in, hands sliding down his leather jacket, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. The effects of too many plastic flutes of champagne were starting to take their toll on you, leaving your head a little cloudy. 

“Wondered where you went.” You sighed, carefully moving to stand between his legs. 

Eddie’s free hand found your waist, sliding over the velvet of your little party dress- he’d told you that you didn’t have to dress up, that his friends wouldn’t care, but you insisted. It’s New Years Eve, Ed, you told him with an eye roll that had him swooning. He was glad you dressed up anyways, always a little treat for him to see you in pretty things like that. 

“C’mere,” Eddie muttered, cigarette hanging loosely around his fingers, pulling you into his lap, grinning at how you squealed gently. “I know you gotta be freezing, sweetheart.” 

You leaned into the warmth of his chest, head pressed into the crook of his neck, letting his arms wrap around you, holding you close. “How are you not cold?” You muttered, words starting to slur gently, eyelashes fluttering with sleep. 

Eddie snickered around the smoke that rolled out of his nose. Such a lightweight, he’d tease, always poking fun at you for falling asleep the second a drop of alcohol hit your system. 

“No, I’m fine- hey,” Eddie’s leg bounced, shaking you on his lap. “Gotta stay awake, baby, it’s not even midnight yet.” 

“I am awake.” You scowled at him, tossing a glare and a pout his way, brows pinched in frustration. “I was just resting for a second.” 

Eddie snorted, bumming his cigarette in the ashtray. “Right.” He scoffed, hands sliding down your tight clad legs, squeezing your thigh gently with affection. “C’mon, sleepy girl, still got an hour until midnight.” 

Head tipping back to lay on his shoulder, your glazed eyes met Eddie’s, lashes batting up at him sweetly, a lazy smile on your face. Eddie’s heart swelled at the sight, your smile infectious, making his lips curl with you. 

“What?” Eddie said around a smile he tried to swallow. 

“You gonna kiss me at midnight, Munson?” He could smell the champagne on your breath, feel the warmth of it close to his skin.

“No, I think I’ll go for Jeff this year.” Eddie chided sarcastically, eyes rolling big and dramatic for show while his dimples creased in his cheeks. “Was that a real question?” He looked at you playfully. 

“Jeff?” You giggled, sitting up straight. “Jeff’s my replacement?” 

“Yeah, sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged playfully. “He just knows more about D&D, just knows the way to my heart.” 

You shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes with a grin that matched Eddie’s. “Of course I’m gonna kiss you at midnight.” Eddie shook his head lightly, hands finding your waist, pulling you back into his chest, nose pressing into your shoulder, leaving a tiny kiss that had you squealing with silly giggles. 

“Might even take you up to one of Harrington’s guest rooms. Kiss all over you at midnight.”  Eddie’s voice dropped to a low gravel, leaving you shivering with anticipation, his teeth grazing playfully, nipping at your shoulder. 

“Stop,” Your cheeks burned, tingly with heat from the alcohol, from the way Eddie made your body rush with excitement. Eddie’s lips pressed against your shoulder again, hand on your tummy, pushing you back into him so he could kiss his way up your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. 

“Eddie,” Your groan was anything but convincing, teetering on a moan. “Stoooop.” Nasally and whiny, just how Eddie liked it. 

“I’m not doing this out here.” You muttered, willing yourself to pull away, head tilting from his lips. 

“Why not?” Eddie muttered, lips vibrating on your soft skin. “We’ve done it plenty of times outside before.” 

“Yeah, but not when it’s twenty degrees outside.” You scoffed, his warm hand smoothing over your cold, tight clad legs. “Let’s go back inside. I’m freezin’.” 

Eddie groaned when you stood, body absent of your touch, but your hand still in his, tugging him lazily out of the chair. “Fine,” Eddie’s chains jingled from his jeans, standing with a soft grunt. “But, hey, you gotta stay with me, alright?” His hand found yours, fingers intertwined, the metal of his rings cold against your skin. 

“I wanna kiss you right at midnight. Gotta stay by me.” Eddie’s grasp pulled you into his side, squeezing your hip with affection as the two of you stepped back into the warmth of the party. 

“Hey, hey, look, there he is,” Gareth greeted Eddie loudly, a hand thrown at him in emphasis. “See, ask him now- Robin! Ask him now!” 

“Ask me what, Buckley?” Eddie rolled his eyes, reaching for the plastic cup of beer he’d set by the door. 

“We’re talking about our resolutions.” Robin smirked, proudly, a little darkly. “And we wanna know what your resolution will be for this brand new decade? Hopefully a better taste in music?” 

“That should be yours,” Eddie snided with a scoff over Steve’s bark of laughter. “And yours,” A finger jabbed into your shoulder. “Both of you have the worst fuckin’ taste in music I’ve ever heard.” 

“Oh, says you-” 

“-Yeah, Ed, that’s really bold coming from you. All your music is just loud.” You huffed, rolling your eyes big, for show. You didn’t miss the way Eddie’s brow quipped in warning. It made your spine tingle. 

“Loud, yes.” Robin nodded. “That’s the best word to describe it. Just loud.”  

“Well, yours is just bad.” Eddie scoffed. “Madonna?” 

“Oh, please,” You laughed. “You love Madonna.”  

Eddie’s lips tightened, pinks burning gently at the chorus of laughter his friends gave. The statement was a stretch, you knew it. Eddie liked that you liked it, and he especially liked when you’d sing for him in the van, silly and sweet. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough kids.” Steve rolled his eyes, voice raising over Robin’s and Eddie’s. “Let Munson speak.” 

“I don’t have any resolutions.” Eddie shrugged. “I’m already perfect.” 

“Boo!” Robin cupped her hands around her mouth, sound echoing over the music. “Come on!” 

“I’m not participating in one of the stupidest societal pressures that have ever been created just because-” 

“-Here we go,” Jeff muttered, eyes rolling dramatically next to you. 

“-Fuck off, I’m right, alright? And you all know it’s stupid too. Over 90% of New Years resolutions fail, because they’re fucking unrealistic and stupid to begin with! I mean, you pick the middle of winter, after all these holidays to choose to get your life together? Fuck that.” 

“You got him all riled up now, Rob.” You passed her a grin, shoulder bumping hers playfully as you went towards the coffee table for another drink. 

“Hey, what about you?” Robin turned, leaning over the couch. “What’s your resolution?” 

“Hm, I dunno.” Your lips twisted in thought, legs a little wobbly from the liquor, yet you still poured yourself more. “I think I’d like to stop buying so much stuff. Save my money for big purchases.” 

“That was mine too.” Nancy nodded. “Stop buying things just because they’re cute. I have just piles of useless junk in my house because I thought it was cute. Now it just sits there.” 

“Exactly.” You smiled. “I’m the same way with shoes. If I see a pair of shoes, I have to have them. It’s like all my senses leave me, and then I get home and I have an identical pair already there.” 

“See? That’s a good one.” Robin looked over at Eddie pointedly. “Not all resolutions are stupid, Munson, your girl has a great one.” 

“Yeah, can’t argue with that.” Eddie’s tongue ran down the side of his cheek, shrugging lightly, though his eyes stayed dark, rolling over your frame the same way he did when he was thinking of a punishment or a new something to try in the bedroom. You didn’t bring it up and neither did he. 

New Years Day, 1990

The New Year rang in quickly, filled with liquor soaked cheers and a rather sloppy kiss on Steve’s couch from Eddie. His ringed hands cupped around your cheeks, pulling you in, uncaring of the ones around you. It left you giggling, nose brushing his, chest spilling over with heat like a froth of champagne bubbles. 

The night was uneventful after that. You’d said your goodbyes to your friends with silly, well wishes for the New Year. Eddie got you in the van, hand on your thigh as he drove carefully through the backwoods towards the trailer, eyes peeled for any cops. You’d nodded off twice, a gentle shake to your thigh waking you with a frown, giving Eddie a sleepy, drunken growl of, “‘M awake.”   

The next morning, when you woke with a slight headache and an incredibly dry mouth, Eddie had two aspirins already beside your bed with a glass of water. Your makeup had been washed off, your party dress swapped for an old, worn t-shirt, and Eddie next to you, his arm lazily thrown over your waist. 

You thanked him by palming him through his boxers, straddling him and pressing warm, gentle kisses down his neck until he woke up, grinning with sleep lines still creased into his cheeks, eyes half lidded with sleep, but his hands on your waist, bunching up your t-shirt. You started your first day of the New Year in your favorite fashion- pressed to the mattress, nails digging and scratching down Eddie’s shoulders and spine while his hips snapped furiously into yours.  

“Hey,” Eddie muttered, chest still covered in a soft sheen of sweat, propped against the pillows piled on the head board. 

“Hey,” Your giggled floated back towards him, the sun shining through the slotted blinds, illuminating over your features. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said last night.” Eddie hummed. 

Your face fell, blinking blankly at him. Fuck, what had you said last night? The night was a little hazy, liquor soaked, and blurry.

“Nothin’ bad, baby.” Eddie could read you easily, too easily sometimes. “I meant about your resolution.” 

“Oh,” Your shoulders fell gently, relaxing at his words. “Yeah, what about it?” 

“I was just thinking,” Eddie groaned lightly, sitting up. “If you were serious about that, maybe, I dunno, maybe I could help you out with it.” 

“Help me?” You grinned, pulling the crew neck over your head. 

“Yeah, help you.” Eddie’s lips twitched in a grin, eyes trailing your ass as you bent over, shimmying your panties on. “Help you keep it.” 

“How would you do that, hm? Lock my bank card up? Take away my piggy bank?” You teased lightly, rummaging through your drawers for your pants. 

“Somethin’ like that.” Eddie hummed, head lolling to the side lazily. “I was thinkin’ more like, you break your resolution, I get to punish you how I like.” 

Your spine straightened at his words, that familiar icy rigidness flooding your system. “What?” A squeak of a response that left Eddie grinning. 

“Y’know, just as an incentive, or- well, maybe more as a deterrent to keep you from breaking your resolution.” Eddie’s hands twitched under the covers, excitement coursing through his system. “Make it a little fun, don’t you think?” 

“Doesn’t seem all that fun.” You muttered, brows creasing. “Sounds like you get to have all the fun, just waiting for me to mess up.” 

“No, no, hey- c’mon, baby.” Eddie sat up, shaking his head gently. “‘S not like that. I just- I thought it would be fun. Thought you might like that.” 

Your fingers tugged and pulled at the sweatpant strings in your hand. It did sound fun, exciting, at least, but you didn’t want him to know exactly how eager you were. 

“What do I get as a reward?” You countered, eyes narrowing gently, lips twisting and pursing. “I mean, if I break it, I get punished. But what if I don’t break it? What’s in it for me?” 

Eddie snorted lightly, chest rising sharply with a laugh. “Well, I mean, you don’t break your resolution for one.” He said pointedly. “But, fine, for every week you don’t break your resolution, you can decide what you want your reward to be.” 

“Hm, that’s a pretty good deal.” You hummed, lips twisted in exaggerated thought. 

“Yeah? You wanna do it?” Eddie’s eyes lit up, wide with excitement. 

“Before I agree,” You lifted your finger. “I want to clarify a few things.” 

“Go for it.” Eddie nodded. 

“This is only for silly purchases, like the shoes and the trinket things, ok? The impulse buys. If it’s a planned purchase, that doesn’t count.” You crossed your arms gently. 

“Ok, I’ll agree to that, but you have to tell me if it’s a planned purchase ahead of time, alright? Can’t just buy something and go, oh, it’s a planned purchase! That’s not fair.” Eddie mocked your voice, face scrunching in exaggeration. 

“One, I don’t sound like that.” You frowned, leaving Eddie snickering. “Two, fine. I’ll agree to that.” 

“Sound like a deal?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You nodded. “Gotta shake my hand, baby, seal the deal.” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, walking towards the bed, your hand slipping in his extended one, giving it a firm shake, before Eddie’s grasp held on tighter, pulling you towards him and onto the bed. He wrapped his arms tight around you, grinning at your squeals and shrills of giggles, pressing his nose into your cheek, peppering your face with kisses. 

January 16th, 1990

The first week had been a breeze. 

The first two days of the brand new year were spent mostly in bed with Eddie, cleaning around the trailer, revitalized for what opportunities the new year would bring. An exhausting return to work came quicker than both of you would have wanted, mixing with the sun setting at six o’clock, you’d blame your deterrent of spending on the frigid weather and your own exhaustion. 

However, that didn’t stop you from claiming your reward that Sunday. An hour and a half spent sitting on Eddie’s face until you nearly cried from pleasure, collapsing in a boneless pile next to him. Your favorite reward, and one he was more than happy to give you. 

The next week, it was more difficult. Especially when the boutiques around the downtown square, that you’d pass on your way to work, started to put up their winter clearance. When the pair of boots you’d been eyeing forever were finally marked half off. And they were so cute. You told yourself you’d just go by and look when you got off, just a peek. 

Luckily, your size was sold by the time you got there after your shift. Divine intervention, maybe. The universe telling you to stick to your resolution, that you don't need more shoes. 

Your Sunday reward wasn’t as sweet as it was the time before. 

The itch began after that, growing and gnawing at you. The shop windows you used to adore looking in now taunted you, reminded you of what you couldn’t have with every handbag, sweater, scarf, shoe, anything. 

“Hey, you wanna go to the mall when I get off?” Eddie hummed, pulling you away from your magazine. 

You thought flipping through a Vogue might settle some of your desire to buy something, seeing the obnoxiously outrageous prices- so far, it was only making it worse. All you could think about was how Shonda’s Shoes had an identical looking pair of knock off Jimmy Choos that were going to be the rage this spring. 

“Yes,” Your eyes lit up, snapping the glossy pages shut. 

Eddie’s brows lifted playfully, disappearing under his curly bangs. “Wow, that’s pretty eager. You don’t even know what it’s for. What if it’s something terrible?” 

“At the mall?” You snorted lightly. “What’s terrible at the mall?” 

Eddie shrugged lightly, slurping down the last of his coffee, putting the mug in the sink. “I dunno, I’m sure there’s somethin’ shitty in there, but I need to go to the music store. Get a couple more guitar picks. I keep losin’ them.” 

“You keep throwing them after your shows.” You gave him a pointed look. It was true, the more popular Eddie’s shows had become at the small town dive bars, the more daring and eager he got on stage, really putting on a performance, and always tossing his guitar picks towards the drunken, middle aged women who danced by the stage his entire set. 

“Aw, don’t be jealous, baby.” Eddie cooed mockingly, arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest. “I’ll throw one to you next time.” His lips buzzed against your cheek, stubble tickling your skin as you squealed with giggles. 

Four o’clock couldn’t come quick enough. Eddie had only worked a half shift, much to your pleasure. 

“You’re already ready?” Eddie grinned, dropping his keys on the entryway table when he walked in. 

“Yeah, you said four.” You twisted your watch band around, looking at the face. “It’s four-fifteen.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just messin’ with ya.” Eddie’s brows furrowed, quipped with questioning, eyes flickering back over to yours. “‘M just gonna shower real quick. Change my clothes and we can go.” 

Your shoulders tightened, annoyance rolling over your frame that you tried to contain. “Alright.” You muttered, trudging behind Eddie towards the living room, plopping on the couch while he started down the hallway. 

A ringed hand caught on the doorframe, Eddie leaning back to look at you fully. Your lips pressed out in a pout, arms crossed over your sweater, staring boredly at the television that wasn’t turned on. 

“Hey,” Your head snapped, turning towards Eddie. “You alright?” He frowned, head tilting the side gently. 

“I’m good.” You replied, too monotone for Eddie to get a real read, though it felt off. You felt off.

Did he forget something? Say something? It wasn’t an anniversary, and it was just a Tuesday- not typical for a date night. Why were you being weird? 

Eddie decided against asking you that, when he emerged from the shower with clean, non-work clothes on, ready to go. Your mood had changed, entirely, bright eyed and bubbly from the moment he grabbed his keys. 

It was such a one-eighty that it left Eddie’s head spinning a little. Maybe he’d looked too much into it, maybe he was off. It had to be him, strolling through the mall with you, hand in hand, while you chatted aimlessly about your day, and meaningless gossip you’d heard from your friends. 

“Oh, look,” You gawked, hand tugging Eddie’s, pulling him off his path and jolting him to where you’d stopped. “Bakers are having a sale.” 

“Baby,” Eddie laughed lightly, lips curling gently. “C’mon.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking over at him. 

Eddie blinked, a scoff of a laugh leaving his lips. “Sweetheart, c’mon,” His hand tugged at yours, stepping away. “You know our agreement.” 

“What agreement?” You snapped much louder than he would have liked, pulling the attention of a couple passing by when you yanked your hand out of his grasp. “I can’t go to the store I want to go to?” 

“Stop it,” Eddie hissed, cheeks burning at your sudden change of mood. “You know what I’m talkin’ about, alright? It’s your resolution, and you know our deal.” His voice dropped, crowding in close to you. 

“So I-I can’t even look?” Your lips were beginning to tighten, to fall in a straight line that Eddie knew far too well. 

“If you want to look and torture yourself, fine,” Eddie huffed. “But I know you’re going to want to buy something.” 

“No, I’m not.” You grumbled, stubbornly, glaring at him. “I just want to look.” 

“Fine,” Eddie shrugged, his shoulders loosening but his jaw still clenched tight. “Let’s go look. Just look.” 

“I know, Ed,” You snapped, shrugging the hand he placed on your shoulder off with a huff. “You don’t have to be such an ass about it.” 

Eddie didn’t respond, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek instead. You looked back, eyes rounded gently in question, the same look you always gave him when you were testing his limits, pushing him to see if you’d accidentally pushed too far this time. 

After the third look back, Eddie relented, his hand finding the small of your back, hesitantly at first, closing in the space. “Hey, look at me for a second,” Eddie muttered, his hand sliding over your cheek, your eyes rolling up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not trying to be an ass. I’m just tryna help you out.” 

“I know,” You muttered, your own shoulders flailing in defeat. “I just- I just wanted to look.” 

“Alright,” Eddie nodded, thumb swiping over your cheek bone gently. “Look as much as you want. Just- Let’s not fight. I don’t wanna fight with you tonight. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” 

“Me too.” You admitted, though you felt you both had slightly different reasonings for the excitement. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t trying to be a controlling dick.” 

“I know.” You hummed, chin ducking forward, stealing a quick kiss that had Eddie’s cheeks pinkening. 

Your hand found his again, squeezing it gently. “Let me just look one more place, and we can go. I just want to see if they got in anything new.” 

Eddie followed you wordlessly, contently letting you drag him down the next aisle. He didn’t say anything, no protests when you picked up the newest arrival, a red leather, pointed toe heel that was sure to be the next big thing, or so the sales associate told you. 

He didn’t say a word even when you tried it on, modeling it in the mirror for yourself, lip tucking between your teeth, twisting your foot around to look at it through every angle. Even when the sales associate was schmoozing you, telling you how they were made just for you, and Eddie could see you swaying. 

He sat wordlessly, watching you through the mirror. 

Eddie didn’t say a word, not even when you gave him your best, sweetest, pleading eyes. 

When the two of you left the store, empty handed, it was your turn to sit wordlessly, a little sulky and petulantly while you followed Eddie to the music store. 

January 19th, 1990

“So you’ll meet me there?” Eddie’s voice rang through the other end of the line, the phone cradled to your ear. 

“Yes, baby,” You hummed sweetly. “I just gotta change when I get off, and Robin’s gonna pick me up. I’ll be there before you go on. Promise.” 

“Alright, sorry, I just- I’m excited.” Eddie admitted over the phone, and you could practically see his knee bouncing. “We’re playing Friday and Saturday night? It’s fuckin’ amazing.” 

“Yeah, it is.” You giggled gently. “I’m proud of you, Ed, you’ve worked hard for it.”

“Thanks.” Eddie muttered, nearly boyishly. “I can’t wait to see you.” 

“I can’t wait to see you either.” You whispered, hand cupping the receiver close to you. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tonight.” 

“See you tonight, sweetheart. Love you.” 

“Love you, Ed.” You muttered, a familiar tingly rush of heat swelling in your chest, phone clicking on the connection point, your nails drumming over the hard shell of the phone in thought. 

The guilt settled in your stomach, heavier than it was this morning when you’d left. Kissing Eddie goodbye, muttering something about having to be at work an hour early, the lie smoothly falling from your lips and he was none the wiser. 

Since Tuesday, you’d developed something worse than buyer’s remorse- not buying remorse, maybe? Regret? Complete and utter irritation and infatuation with the shoes that you couldn’t buy. And why couldn’t you buy them? Because of some stupid resolution? Eddie was right, New Year's resolutions were stupid. 

You’d thought about it, at least, waited and really thought about it. You had even looked through your closet and you didn’t have any like those shoes- sure, you had leather, and red shoes, but not leather, red heels. These were different, you didn’t buy them on an impulse, so in a way, you’d followed through a little on your resolution. Right? 

That’s what you told yourself anyways, swiping your card with an adrenaline rush far too heavy for just buying shoes. Your eyes lighting with excitement, clutching the bag with a white knuckled grip and giving the cashier a wild and wide smile. 

You’d gotten what you wanted, held it tight on the walk back to work, but the feeling in your stomach didn’t settle. There was no instant satisfaction, no momentary happiness like what usually came with your small meaningless purchases. This time, you still felt… unsettled. Even more guilty when you slipped them on later that night, the finishing touch to your planned outfit. 

“Hey,” Robin greeted, waving through the open window of the passenger’s seat in her date’s car. “Look who’s actually on time.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling at the door handle. “You and Ed act like I’m always late.” You snorted, sliding into the leather seats. 

“You are always late.” Robin laughed. 

“Now you really sound like Ed.” You muttered, setting your small clutch beside you while Robin laughed. 

The Hideout was already beginning to crowd when you arrived, filling with familiar and new faces, all gathered around the bar and tables, drinks in hand, waiting for the band to start up. You were shocked to see your table at the front was still available, heart swelling when you saw a small sign placed there that read, ‘Reserved for the Band’ in Eddie’s handwriting. 

“Here you go,” Robin passed you a plastic cup, sliding into the high top chair next to you. “Vodka cran for the number one groupie.” 

You scoffed, muttering a thank you, lips wrapping around the small black straw. “I love your shoes.” Samantha, Robin’s date, smiled, passing by you to sit by Robin. 

Your heart skipped, dropping in slight fear, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Thank you.” You nodded. 

Robin looked under the table, examining your shoes for herself. “Those are cute. Are they new?” 

“No,” You lied easily, a little too rigid for your own liking, but they seemed to buy it. “I got them last summer.” You waved lightly. 

“They’re so cute.” Samantha smiled. “They look just like some I saw at Baker’s, and I almost got them but they didn’t have my size-” 

“-Hey,” You jumped at the ringed hand on your shoulder, a flash of curls in your peripheral before Eddie was in front of you. 

“Hey.” You swallowed, grinning up at him. “What are you doing-” 

“- We’re about to go on, but I saw you and just wanted to say hi.” Eddie admitted, a little boyishness in his tone, in his smile, that made you swoon. 

“Hi,” You giggled, leaning towards him. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s lips found yours, capturing you in a kiss, his fingertips pressed lightly under your jaw. 

“Ed!” 

Gareth’s annoyed bark pulled both of you apart, Eddie rolling his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll see you after the show.” His eyes rolled over your frame as you stilled, bracing yourself for that furious look of shock in his eyes when he looked at your feet. It never came. 

“You look good, baby.” Eddie winked playfully, nodding at Robin and her date before he ran back onto the small wooden stage. 

You could feel your shoulders relax, ducking your feet back under the bar table with satisfaction. He hadn’t noticed, you knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t believe he actually didn’t. You felt smug, sipping on your drink, downing the liquor with the guilt finally being replaced with satisfaction. 

***

“You sounded sooo good.” Arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck, the two of you swayed next to the bar chairs while Eddie waited for his beer. 

“Thank you, baby.” Eddie laughed through a dimpled grin, his hand on your waist, holding you against him in case you fell- again. 

“Everyone loved it.” You hummed, running a manicured finger down the side of his face, over his damp hair line. “They fucking loved you.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie grinned, brows lifting in humor. He liked when you’d get drunk and silly like this, overly and smothering with affection. “How’d you like it though, hm? I only care about what you think. You’re the most important one, you know that.” 

Your giggly smile made his heart swell, leaning back to look at him, lips twisting dramatically in thought. “Hmm, what did I think?” You tapped a finger playfully to your chin. 

“I think-” 

“-Watch out.” Eddie grabbed at your wrist, trying to still you as you took a wobbly, wide step backwards into the path of the bus boy, stumbling into them, the empty drink he was trying to return falling from between his stacked fingers and right onto your shoes. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh no.” You frowned gently, chin dropping to your chest, looking at the melted ice and liquor that darkened the leather of your shoes. 

 “Sorry, man, she didn’t see you. I got it.” Eddie apologized quickly, picking the plastic cup up, shooting the teenager a look of apology. “I’ll clean it up. Sorry.” 

Eddie snatched the stack of napkins off the bar, dropping to mop up the small puddle by your feet. “‘M sorry. I didn’t even see him, Ed.” You mumbled, voice starting to shake with emotions, a warning of tears, drunk and emotional. 

“It’s alright. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Shit gets dropped here all the time.” Eddie’s hand rubbed over your calf gently, squeezing it to soothe you. “Did it get in your shoe? Or just the outside?” 

“No, they’re gonna be ruined.” Your slurred whine made him cringe, ducking back just in time to miss your swinging foot raise up, snatching the shoe off. 

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, pulling at your dress to keep it down. “Hey, c’mon, don’t cry. Just let me close out-” 

“-No, they’re ruined.” You sniffled, eyes shining with tears, scrubbing and dabbing with the cheap paper napkins at the soaked leather. “I just bought these and they’re already stained, and it's not gonna come out.” 

Eddie stilled, eyes flickering from you to the shoe in your hand, narrowing when he realized what exactly was in your hand. It was the same heels from earlier this week, red and leather and with a pointed toe, and now in your possession. He knew he recognized them, knew something about them looked familiar when he saw you in them- when he saw how good your legs looked in them. 

“Ed-Eddie,” You sniffled wetly around a hiccup, lip jutted in a far pout, looking up at him with glazed eyes. 

“C’mon,” Eddie nodded, grabbing your coat off the back of the bar stool. “I’ll fix them back at home.” His heavy arms were around your frame, guiding you carefully through the broken pavement back to the van while you babbled and sniffled, teary eyed and turned into his chest. 

Back at the trailer, he’d managed to get you into the bed before you’d collapsed, drunk and exhausted. The routine was nearly identical to the one just a few days before on New Years Eve; taking off your makeup, swapping out your little party dress for one of his tee shirts, two Advils and a large glass of water on the bedside table. 

Only this time, he didn’t toss your shoes in the closet, onto the piles under your clothes with the others. No, this time, he sat them right on the dining room table. He had managed to find the receipt in the trash, skillfully placed under a wad of paper towels that you’d tried to use to mask it. Eddie placed it next to the shoes, leaving them both for you to find in the morning. 

January 20th, 1990

“Ed,” Your groggy voice made its way into the kitchen before you did, hoarse from the liquor and singing from the night before. “Did you make any coffee? Please tell me you made some.” 

“It’s in the kitchen, baby.” Eddie replied smoothly, eyes still on the screen of the TV. “I kept the pot on for you. Should still be warm.” 

Your feet shuffled over the carpet, knuckling at your eyes. The muffled screech of guitars left you wincing, even at the low volume Eddie had the TV on while he watched his Saturday morning MTV show.

“Did you eat, Ed?” Your heart swelled, seeing the mug he’d left out for you next to the pot- your favorite mug. 

“Hm?” Eddie grunted back. 

“Did you eat?” Your head strained with an ache at the rise in your tone, thumb pressing between your brows to alleviate the pressure. “Or do you want me to make you something? Or we could-” 

Words strangled in your throat, you nearly dropped the mug onto the tiled floor of the kitchen when you turned. There on the kitchen table, your new shoes next to a neatly laid out receipt. 

“Could what?” Eddie said lightly, standing from the couch and turning to see you, wide eyed when your gaze met his. 

“Oh, yeah, forgot about those.” Eddie reached for the remote, muting the volume. “You know, when you told me they were new shoes, I thought maybe you were just a little confused and drunk.” 

His footsteps seemed heavier, louder and more menacing, sending a shockwave of adrenaline and ache right to your core the closer he got. “Then when I got you home, I realized those were the shoes from the mall.” Eddie stopped in front of you, hands resting on the back of the kitchen chair, looking down at you from the slope of his nose. 

“I thought there was no way, no possible way, you went back and bought those, but then, I looked in the trash and you know what I found?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, mockingly. You could only blink, tongue too thick in your own mouth to reply. 

Eddie’s pointer and middle finger fell onto the receipt, pushing it towards you, sliding it across the wood table. “Read the date on there for me, baby.” 

“Ed-”

“-Read it for me.” Eddie’s voice boomed, oozing with authority that had you pulsing between the legs, heart skipping at the same beat. 

Eyes cutting down, your teeth pulled at your bottom lip, eyeing the date printed boldly under the store’s name. “January nineteenth.” It was mumbled, nearly inaudible, and you refused to meet his gaze. You couldn’t, but you knew how he was looking at you. Eyes narrowed with a hard glare that felt nearly challenging. 

“January nineteenth,” Eddie repeated slowly. “Yesterday. You- hey, look at me- You went back to the store and got them?” 

The intensity of his gaze left you feeling vulnerable, like you were see through, squirming and shifting from foot to foot. “I-I just- I just wanted them.” 

“You wanted them?” Eddie lifted a brow. “Baby, you agreed to the resolution thing-” 

“-I know I did, Ed.” You snapped with a huff that teetered on bratty, throwing in an eye roll that had Eddie’s grip tightening on the back of the chair. 

“But, I didn’t, I didn’t buy them right then! I went home and made sure I didn’t have any like them, and I didn’t, so that’s not really breaking it entirely.” You countered, lip jutted lightly in a pout, eyes rounding up at him sweetly- hopefully sweet enough that you’d melt his heart, get him to agree with you. 

“We had an agreement,” Eddie’s fingers tapped on the wood of the chair. “If you wanted them, you could’ve told me, baby. Not snuck around and bought them. You knew what you were doing.” 

Your shoulders fell with a sharp sigh of defeat. “It’s stupid.” You muttered. “You were right. Resolutions are so pointless.”

“I know,” Eddie snorted with a laugh. “But we still had a deal, baby, and you broke your deal.” 

“Ed, come on-” 

“-No, no, no, you were more than happy to accept your rewards. Now you gotta face the music, baby. Gotta take your punishment.” Eddie shrugged lightly, giving you a big sigh for show, like there was nothing he could do about it. It made you furious, even more so when you could feel your tummy erupting in thrilling butterflied. 

The wood chair screeched across the linoleum floors when Eddie tugged it back, wide enough for him to slip in it, legs spread wide. “Come on over,” His hand patted his right thigh. “I won’t go too hard on you, I promise.” 

Your cheeks burned, hot with embarrassed heat- embarrassed at the punishment or the fact that you were so excited to be punished, you weren’t sure. Hesitantly, you folded over his thigh, hands bracing yourself on his thigh, grabbing at the wooden leg of the chair while Eddie guided you over his knee. 

Eddie’s hand smoothed over your ass, bunching the cotton of your panties between his fingers, grinning when you whined, tensing at the anticipation of the first spank. “Relax, baby,” Eddie hummed, squeezing your left cheek, teasing. “You knew this was coming.” 

“Stooop,” A nasally whine left your throat before you could stop yourself, already beginning to squirm. “Don’t be mean to me.” 

“Mean?” Eddie scoffed playfully, brows lifting. “I’m not being mean. Not yet, anyways.” 

You huffed at his words, the air barely leaving your lips before it was sucked back in, a shocked gasp when Eddie’s hand fell without warning, hard against your left ass cheek. 

“I could have been mean last night,” Eddie’s tone cut, his hand slamming down in sharp, thundering smacks that left you gasping, clawing at the wood of the chair. “Could have let your shoes get ruined.” 

Your face twisted in distortion, the night before hazy. You barely remembered seeing Eddie after his set, the memory of the spilled drink flooding to you in liquor soaked waves. It was difficult to really recall with the assault Eddie’s hand was dishing out on your ass, your core aching with need, throbbing as you tried to wiggle your way to his knee. 

“I cleaned your shoes off,” Three hard smacks that had you raising, pushing off the chair to lift off, Eddie’s hand shoving you back into place, holding you there by the small of your back. 

“I made sure they didn’t stain, even after I found out you’d gone behind my back and bought them.” 

“‘M sorry! Eddie, I-I’m sorry!” A panting cry tore from your chest, nose and throat burning with tears, wiggling to try and escape his assaults that rained down unrelenting. You had managed to wiggle your way onto his kneecap, aching clit pressed down and hips rolling to alleviate the needy throb. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. Or maybe that he would. Maybe then he’d get bored of punishing you and might fuck you instead. 

“If I was really mean,” Eddie gritted, delivering a rather hard smack to the center of your bottom, mouth watering and cock straining with need, tented in his boxers. He knew you had to feel it, the same way he could feel your wetness on his bare thigh, seeping through your panties more and more with every roll of your hips. 

“I’d make you return the shoes.” Eddie’s hand fell hard again to the same space, the pain and vibrations of his hit leaving you dizzy, mind numbing with pleasure, mouth lolling open and choking on cries- of pleasure or pain, you weren’t quite sure. 

“Make you really learn your lesson then, hm?” Eddie growled, his voice gravelly with need, sending shivers of excitement trickling up your spine. 

“Please,” You panted between a moan. “I’ve learned my lesson. I learned it. I’ll be good. I promise, Ed, I swear.” 

Wet sniffles and clenched moans filled the kitchen, your hips still writing, desperate to dull the ache between your legs. Eddie’s finger traced over your puffy, pantie clothed lips, featherlight and teasing down your slit, pressing over the patch of wetness he felt at the front. 

“Eddie, please,” Your whine came, nasally and pathetic. 

“You ready to be good?” Eddie muttered, pad of his index finger pressing into your clit so you squealed. “Ready to be good for me? Do what I say?” 

“Yes,” You nodded, blood rushing to your head, still tipped over his knee. “I’ll be good. I’m gonna be good.” 

“Good.” Eddie clipped, pulling you up. You sat on his lap, just for a moment, blood rushing, head spinning from the mix of that sensation and your overwhelming desire. You barely had a moment to steady yourself before you were being stood up, shoved back to your knees on the kitchen floor.

“You wanna show me you’re sorry?” Eddie looked down at you from the chair, hips lifting to shove his boxers down, revealing his angry cock, leaking at the tip. You swallowed at the sight, thighs pressing together and squirming. 

“Show me how sorry you are.” Eddie stroked himself, nodding at you. 

Tongue running over your lips, your spine straightened, shuffling forward to take his length in your hand. Tongue flattening, your eyes were on Eddie’s, licking a long, wet stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head as you sucked it gently. 

Eddie’s head fell back, hands finding your head, pushing you gently onto his length. It was something he normally didn’t do, he knew you didn’t like it, but when you were being punished, he’d do it. Just to hear you gag, toes curling and hips clenching to keep from bucking at the vibrations from the back of your throat. 

“Thaaaat’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” Eddie groaned, eyes half lidded with ecstasy, watching your head bob up and down, eyes glistening with tears with every deep thrusting gag he’d give. 

“Fuck, just- hold on.” Eddie gritted, abs clenching, pleasure beginning to coil tight, threatening to snap in the pit of his tummy. His hand found the back of your head, tugging at your hair, pulling you off his length. 

“What?” You frowned, the back of your hand wiping at your mouth. “It didn’t- Was it not good?” 

“No, fuck no.” Eddie shook his head. “Felt great, baby, always does. You know you’re so good at that.” He grinned, leaving you beaming under his praise. 

“So good I was about to cum. Don’t wanna do that.” Eddie’s hand cradled around your cheek, pinching the skin lightly. “Wanna cum in you. Stand up f’me.” 

You scrambled to your feet, legs prickly nearly asleep from being on your knees, wobbly with excitement. You ached between your legs, painful with need, bending over the kitchen table, pushing the shoes out of the way. 

Eddie paused, tongue running over his bottom lip. “Wait,” You turned, blinking up at him. “Gimme those.” He nodded towards the shoes. 

You frowned, hesitating when you grabbed them, handing them over to Eddie. His hand caught your wrist, tugging you upwards to stand. “Put them on.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking at the shoes- he really had cleaned them, even the bottoms looked brand new, the sweetheart. Your heart swelled. 

“Put them on,” Eddie nodded, standing, cock slapping against his tummy. His eyes were dark, pulling at your t shirt; his shirt. 

“I want you to wear those, just those.” Eddie growled, stroking his length, eyeing you hungrily while you pulled your shirt off, baring yourself to him. “Want you just in those shoes while I fuck you, you hear me?” 

Your head bobbed, nodding dumbly at his words, slipping the heels on with shaky hands. Eddie’s gaze on you the entire time, hungrily eyeing over your frame as you stood there, naked in your new shoes. 

“Mm, maybe you were onto somethin’, baby.” Eddie hummed, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. “Maybe you did need ‘em. You look fuckin’ amazing in them.” 

Your chin ducked to your chest, shy under his praise, rushes of electric excitement trilling through your body. “Thank you,” You whispered, gaze still on the floor, looking at the red leather heels. 

“Come here,” Eddie motioned you over, his hands finding your hips, pulling you in for a sloppy, hot kiss that left you spinning. 

“Turn around,” Eddie growled, hands still anchored onto your hips, fingertips bruising the skin there. “Lean forward.” 

Your hands found the edge of the counter, nails digging into the tile, crying out in pleasure when Eddie’s fingers slipped between your legs, circling around your clit. 

He fucked you hard, barbarically against the counter. Hips snapping with a fury, deep and fast, sloppily circling your clit. He seemed to go faster, deeper, with every squeak of your heels sliding on the floors, snapping down to find your footing that was slipping away on shaky legs. 

Your cheek pressed to the counter, you felt him fill you, pulling out with his heaving chest laid over your back, both of you starry eyed and spacy with bliss. 

“I like the shoes.” Eddie rasped between heaving breaths. “Think you should wear ‘em again tonight.” 

Your breathy giggles were music to his ears, his own shoulders dropping with relief at the sound. The familiar guilt and uncertainty that always came after you played slowly slipping away, his hands pulling at your sweat soaked skin, pulling you closer to him, lips on your shoulder. 

“I will,” You sighed, cheek pressed to the cool tile of the counter. There was a pause, the two of you skin to skin, feeling each other in the silence of the kitchen. 

“I think I’m ready to call the resolution thing.” You admitted, eyes rounding when you turned to look at Eddie. “I don’t want to do it anymore. It was fun but… I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

Eddie grinned sweetly down at you. “Yeah? Don’t blame you, baby. Told you resolutions are dumb.” He teased gently, hand smoothing down your hip gently. “I did like given’ you your reward every week, though. Can’t lie. That part was pretty great.” 

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, turning in his arms to face him. “We can still do that part. I thought that was pretty fun too.” 

“Ooh, you did, huh?” Eddie cooed sillily, arms wrapping around your frame, pulling you into him with a shrill of giggles. 

“I tell you what, you keep those heels on, and you can sit on my face right now, for as long as you want. How’s that sound?” Eddie tilted his head to the side playfully. 

You found yourself in the bedroom not ten minutes later, the stem of the heels digging into your ass as you rocked, hands braced on the headboard, legs parts on either side of Eddie’s head as he devoured into you. 

The heels were his favorite, Eddie decided. A failed resolution, sure, but one of the best purchases you’d ever made in his eyes. 

[mggslover]

🤓☝️ may i request for your first time series the first time spencer lets reader take control during sex? not too sure how you feel about sub spencer but im horny for it and i’d love to see what you do

edging sub spencer genre: smut 18+ cw: sub!spencer x dom!reader, mentions of spencer being insecure about his masculinity, mentions of p in v sex, tied hands, handjob, edging, breastplay, oral (f receiving), thigh fucking, bit of degradation, religious comparisons wc: 2,4k a/n: am i a sub spencer fan?! pull up in the- yes lol i very much am. i cannot even call these drabbles anymore. if anyone is wondering why your requests are taking so long, this is the reason. my first time exploring this dynamic. i hope you'll enjoy, let me know your thoughts!

“Come on, baby. You’re the one who begged me for this.”

Spencer whimpered underneath you in response. He sat up straight on your shared bed, upper body rested against the headframe, long legs spread over the sheets, as your naked body hovered over his. And most importantly, his hands were tied behind his back with a silk red fabric.

Spencer craned his neck, trying to press his lips to yours, but you simultaneously leaned away from him. You shook your head, tsking. “What did I tell you?”

Twinkling hazel eyes blinked up at you, his eyebrows caught in a slight furrow.

“You can’t tell me you forgot,” you purred, fingertips trailing the curve of his jaw. “What did I tell you, Spencer?” you repeat with more force in your tone.

He visibly swallowed as your nails dragged down his neck. “That I’m not allowed to touch you.”

“And why’s that?” You hummed.

“Because sexual denial will increase the release of dopamine, and—oh…” he closed his eyes in delight as your nails continued their path down his chest.

“—and the release of oxytocin and serotonin. It will… in general… Jesus… make you more sensitive, which will heighten your pleasure.”

He had hurriedly finished his last words, letting out a deep breath of relief once you nodded in confirmation. 

“And all we want is for you to feel good. Isn’t that right, baby?”

He nodded fervently, a deep moan escaping his throat as your fingers grazed the skin of his upper thigh, carefully avoiding his throbbing length.

-`♡´-

It had all started last week, when you came home on a dreary Thursday evening. Immensely frustrated from your day at work. 

Spencer oftentimes suggested sex when you were feeling stressed out. Sexual intercourse is known for lowering blood pressure and boosting happy hormones.

Usually this would result in him leading you to the bedroom where he’d gently press you down onto the mattress. He’d crawl on top of you, lips immediately finding yours, giving gentle pecks as his hands roamed up and down the sides of your body. 

You’d have sensual sex. Sweet. Vanilla. It was the norm, and when it came to sex, Spencer wanted to keep to the norm. Sexuality and masculinity were deeply intertwined for him, and in both of these aspects, he felt like he didn’t fit into the traditional roles of a man, causing him to feel the need to approach sex textbook-wise.

The sex was good for the both of you. You never minded seeing your boyfriend on top of you. His lips slightly agape as he fought back his moans, hair falling into his face with every push of his hips, shoulders shuddering as he came inside of you. And for Spencer, he was always happy to be there. 

So, it was entirely new when you came home that day and tugged him by the collar of his shirt the second you entered the house. Spencer’s mouth was still in a gasp when you hungrily pressed your lips to his, tongue finding his without building the moment up like you’d usually do. 

Your body pulled flush against him. The softness of your breasts pressed against his hard chest. He was able to feel the peaks of your nipples even through the fabric of clothes.

“Are you okay?” Spencer choked out as you cupped him roughly through his pants. 

“I just need you, Spence. I need to use you.”

Those words were almost enough to make him spill in his underwear. And indeed, the second you had moved to the couch and straddled him (an entirely new position), taking his cock in your soft hand as you sunk down onto him, it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to fill you up with his release.

You needed the control and security after having been bossed around at work. Spencer, on the contrary, felt too much in control at his job. Setting a profile and finding evidence and whereabouts on an unsub was very precise work, not even mentioning the huge amount of pressure on saving people’s lives. 

He never realized how good it felt to let go. To trust someone else in taking charge, in taking care of him. At that moment he didn’t think about portraying a certain type of masculinity. Instead of holding back his moans and settling on deep groans, he whimpered against your mouth as you fucked him. Squirming and whining underneath your touch as he begged you for more. 

His reactions didn’t go unnoticed by you. When you both had recovered and were cleaned up, you brought up the subject of this sub-dom dynamic, and it was very easy for Spencer to give in to exploring it more.

-`♡´-

“P-please.”

“What’s that?”

“Please touch me,” Spencer softly cried, fisting the pillow behind his back with the little grip he had.

You leaned in closer. Your breath tickled against his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before you licked a bold stripe up the skin. 

A strangled moan left his throat. You smiled at him, pleased with yourself. It deeply turned you on that you could do whatever you wanted to him, that he’d beg you for anything that you could give him. 

His body responded to every ghost of your touch. Your lips trailed his throat, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Occasionally leaving lingering marks and bites until you made your way up his jaw.

“Is this what you wanted, Spence?” You teased as you put your hand around his thick shaft. 

“Yes,” he moaned, his head falling back against the headboard. “Exactly that.”

You pumped his length in a steady rhythm, flicking your palm to enhance the sensation. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. Such a pretty boy. Your cock is so hard and ready for me.” 

He shivered at your words. He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have you hovering above him, breasts swaying with every movement of your hand. You were so good to him. When his gaze blinked from your breasts to your face, seeing you seductively smile but your eyes radiating a gentle sweetness, he started wondering if there might really be a God. You were too heavenly to be here on Earth, pleasing him like there was no better enjoyment in life.

Your eyes were fixed on his cock, watching his precum gather at the tip. You circled the sensitive skin with a soft stroke of your thumb. Spencer used the momentary distraction to dive in, his lips catching around your nipple. “Oh god,” you gasped in pleasure, the sensation going straight to your core. His tongue made quick work of stimulating the nub. His cheeks were hollowed as he sucked, giving his everything for the mere moments he might get of tasting you.

Spencer was internally grateful when you didn’t stop him. As a matter of fact, your fingers knotted through his hair as you tugged him closer to you. It helped him keep his balance as his still tied hands clenched around the air. 

He continued his kisses to the rest of your breast once he was confident enough that you wouldn’t tell him to stop. He sucked on the soft, full flesh, leaving marks that would remind you of this moment days from now.

“Look at you sucking on my tits. You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Such a little slut for me.”

He moaned around your nipple, a wave of need fluttering through your stomach. You pulled on his hair, sharp enough to leave a pleasurable sting of pain. “Look at me.”

Wide doe eyes met yours. “‘m sorry.”

“Too distracted by having my tits in your face to look me in the eyes, huh?”

“Sorry, you’re just too pretty,” he truthfully muttered, eyes fleetly falling onto your breasts before blinking back up.

He looked so pretty like this. A red flush painting his neck and cheeks. His lips were just as swollen and red as he pouted at you. A smug smile lingered on your face, and you pulled him back in, leaning forward to not have him stretch his neck too far. The kiss was sloppy, hungry. You were not able to tell whether his whimpers were because of the kiss, or because of your touch as your hand had found its way back to his cock.

You fastened the motions of your wrist. His mouth was parted, a pretty song of whines escaping. You sucked down on his bottom lip, mirroring the action he always did when kissing you. 

“Oh, baby.” The moan came out in a gasp. His hips started stuttering, stomach clenching as he neared his release.

“Are you almost there, Spencer?”

“Yes! I’m almost there, I’m almost there baby. Please don’t stop.”

You released your grip on him. His length remained hard, standing upright as if you were still holding him.

The desperate cry that left his lips should have made you feel bad. Instead, you found yourself getting even more turned on. Sure that your thighs were slick with your wetness by now.

“Why—why did you do that?” He whimpered accusingly, as if betrayed. “I was so close.”

“Ah, I know, baby,” you faux pouted. You had to bite your lip to hold back a sadistic smile as you noticed his glossy eyes, looking more green than they usually were.

“I’m just keeping you to your promise,” you reminded him. He tilted his head like a confused puppy. “When you told me you’d always make sure to make me come first.”

“But we weren’t—”

“Uh, uh, uh,” you shushed him, index finger pressed to his lips. “Don’t you want to please me?”

He softly kissed your finger, “Of course I do.”

“Then start using your mouth for better things than complaining,” you cooed at him before carefully standing up on the bed, making your way forward until his face was right below your cunt. Spencer wiggled on the sheets until he lay flat on his back, arms in a bit of an uncomfortable position, but not enough to bother him as he had a perfect view of your dripping pussy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in a prayer. You softly chuckled, bending your legs so that they were spread on either side of his face. Slowly, you lowered yourself until his tongue, which was already sticking out, made contact with your folds. You hissed at the sensation, your clit throbbing in the same way it always did before he ate you out.

He started lapping at your pussy, gathering your sweet slickness and spreading it over the lips. He flicked his tongue over your inner lips before sucking on them. As much as Spencer adored giving you the reins, nothing compared to the shaky, uncontrollable whimpers that left your mouth. Sounds that were made because of him. Sounds that were made for him. 

“Keep making those sounds, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations echoing through your body.

After more worshipping kisses to your cunt, his lips finally settled down on your clit. Your back arched when he started sucking on the sensitive button while simultaneously pressing on it with the tip of his tongue. He truly was your toy, no silicone object giving you the ecstasy that he could give you. 

“Oh God, Spencer. You’re so good at this,” you stated in a heavy breath. The feeling of your orgasm coming up was close to overwhelming, and you were whimpering as your vision hazed.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Oh, fuck, I’m—”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence, instead crying out a moan as your release hit you. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably, your pussy pressed even harder against his mouth as you rode out the aftershocks, muffling his deep moans. The feel of his nose against your overstimulated cunt was dizzying. 

“I need to lie down,” you said, out of breath. Shaky Bambi legs as you climbed off of him. Your body didn’t allow you to move much further. Settling on lying down on top of his body, spreading your legs to give his achingly hard cock room to breathe.

Your cheek rested against his sweaty chest. Spencer reached out to trace your face, huffing in annoyance when he remembered his hands were still tied behind his back. 

He hummed when you pressed a wet kiss to his chest. “Finish for me, baby.”

Then you squeezed your thighs together. Spencer swallowed when he realized what you meant. His cock was enveloped between your plush thighs, and when he experimentally lifted his hips, he discovered how good the act felt. 

“Jesus, that’s nice,” he groaned. 

Wasting no time, he started pumping his hips up, using your thighs as a cocksleeve. The wetness that was gathered on your inner thighs (and was still dripping out of your pussy) working as lube. 

Your fingertips lazily trailed over his chest. “Doing so good for me, baby. Show me how good you can make yourself feel.”

He nodded, a whine leaving his lips as he fastened his speed. His eyes were transfixed on the curve of your ass, craning his neck to get a better look.

He’s never experienced a feeling as sentimental as this. The rough pleasure of the sex mixed with the gentleness of your head resting against him. He couldn’t get closer to Heaven than this.

“You feel so good,” he whined. “You’re not stopping me this time. Right?” He asked for confirmation, his voice shaking in doubt. 

You laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. “That really took a toll on you, huh? I won’t, I promise.”

The slight tension in his body resolved. Making him feel enough at ease to let go. He placed his feet firmly on the bed, using his knees to lift himself up, making you let out a yelp as he fucked your thighs.

The silk wasn’t enough to hold him back, the fabric tearing as he moved his wrists. His hands immediately found your head, holding you against him as his hips stuttered. Your moans were entangled in each other as he spilled his cum all over your ass. 

His stomach clenched underneath you, and you soothingly shushed him. Reassuringly caressing his chest and shoulders as he came down from his height.

-`♡´-

“You okay?” You softly mumbled once his heartbeat had calmed down.

He nodded, a lazy smile displayed on his lips. “I’m okay.”

“I wasn’t too rough with you. Was I?”

“No,” he answered, holding you closely against him. “You were perfect.”

[2neaky]

.⟡ ֺ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘔𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦? 𓂂 ˚.

Part 1

MDNI (seriously) -> dom/sub dynamics, m*sturbation (male), edg*ng, denied/controlled *rgasm(s), minor feet pl*y, p in v s*x, dubious consent, technically forced penetration, rough s*x, mindless f*cking, cr*ampie, talking through it, male sub, female softdom, unnamed female character, descriptive language, use of nicknames (baby, Mama, & Papa)

He’s trying to stay on the right path. Be good for her while she’s gone.

Just before she left, she squeezed a couple more drops out of him. Right in the middle of their kitchen, on her knees, before him.

At the time, only about thirty minutes separated then and the first time she used him, back in the bedroom. Between then, he was sure he could recover. But that last session, before her departure, knocked him off his game. 

It’s been almost forty minutes since she left. It still hasn’t gone down.

He’s tried distractions: making a snack, watching a show, checking his socials. No distraction was distracting enough.

Because no matter what he does, she’s at the back of his mind. She’s always at the back of his mind.

Sunken into the couch, he stares down at his phone, watching her Instagram story. 

She’s at one of those influencer events. It’s far from her first one, the life of a content creator and all.

Her hair pulled back shows off her beautiful face, and how amazing she did her makeup. She’s so good at doing it. It makes him proud that she’s able to get paid off of doing something she loves. 

God, he’s so proud of her.

She’s all dressed up, too. In his humble opinion, this is her best look. It tops every one she’s ever done (but, that’s what he says about every new outfit she puts together). 

A black, lace-y jumpsuit from Outcast is her choice of outfit. It shows off too much, and not enough at the same time.

The top squeezes her boobs together so nicely. She used her favorite body oil tonight—the scent wafts off of her when she’s near—causing the nearest light source to bounce off of her supple skin. 

And her ass—watching her leave was the best and worst thing to see. Her body had him by the throat with every step she took.

For a while, after she left, all he could think about was the last time they had sex; how she had him keep still while she fucked him, reverse cowgirl. Just making him take it.

He wasn’t mad about that at all.

He had perfect memory of the way her ass clapped over him while her pussy swallowed every inch. 

Sensation and sight alike made him feel like he was losing his grip on reality. And even then, he knew he couldn’t finish that way. He had to see her face.

That beautiful face that was just below him almost an hour ago, coaxing a few more drops out of him. All for her lips to shine. He could’ve finished right then and there—busted all over her face, ruin her perfect makeup. 

But he couldn’t do that to her. She wouldn’t allow it. That was the only thing stopping him.

Speaking of allowing … she’s not home. Who’s going to stop him now that she’s gone?

He stares at his phone, thumb holding down on the screen so as to not let the story post end. It’s only her in the Uber ride. The flash bounces off of her beat face, highlighting her lips.

Her glossy lips.

So pretty, he thinks to himself.

The gentle pass of his hand over his front makes his breath hitch. He starts the post over from the beginning.

As he watches, he wipes his hand down his front again, the heel of his palm pressing just a little bit harder.

His grasp on the phone grows shakier by the second. Gentle passes turn into more as he feels on his dick through the thin sweats.

The friction is just what he needed, and it’s making him dumb. His eyes threaten to roll back until the whites of them are all that show.

His lips part, mouth open wide enough for any sound to slip through. He swallows thickly, pushing himself up higher on the couch. 

When his hips stutter or his stomach dips inward out of sensitivity, he keeps going. His heart is beating so fast, he can hardly hear.

What if she comes home soon? What if she walks in on him getting off?

It wouldn’t be the first time. But, it’ll be different. She might get mad, think that he’s trying to finish in secret. Then she’ll give him a real punishment.

Probably deny him of a release for even longer. She might even make him wear the ring. Or … she’ll do what she’s been plotting to do for a while now: sounding—

He twitches in his pants, head falling back against the couch cushions. He squeezes himself harder.

“Mmh—”

Picking his head up, he sees the small wet spot in his sweats. 

“Shit—” He sits up straighter.

He didn’t finish … but he was close. Too close.

Weakly, he pulls himself together. Pocketing his phone and fixing his pants, he makes his way to their bedroom.

Their bed is where he takes his new spot. Without another thought, he tugs his pants down. A wave of relief crashes over him as he finally frees his dick.

The cool air kisses his skin, making him hiss softly. His lower lip is caught between his teeth and he looks down at his “problem” in contemplation.

He’s not even sure what to do. It’s not like he’s trying to actually finish. He just … wants a little bit of relief. He won’t let it get too far, of course not.

But, he’s already so sensitive. 

In the pocket of his sweats, his phone buzzes with a message, cutting his train of thought short. It makes him freeze. Blinking out of his daze, he rushes to pull it from his pocket.

❤️ — I miss you

It’s her, he knew it. 

The message almost makes him breathless. With a quick swallow, he collects himself before typing back.

However, before he can send a message, he receives one instead. It’s an image of her posing in the venue’s bathroom. She’s so fucking cute, so pretty. Her smile is big and joyful, like she’s truly having fun.

And he’s glad, really.

But … he hates that he has to ruin this innocent moment. Because, unfortunately, her joy only turns him on.

You — I miss you so much

You — You’re so pretty

❤️ — Ty Papa <33

There’s the faintest smile on his lips as he stares at her replies. While doing so, his other hand busies itself, rubbing up and down his thigh. 

A message bubble with bouncing ellipses appears on her side of their chat. It doesn’t for stay too long. 

You — I miss you so much

↳ ❤️ — How much do you miss me?

His chest fills with air as he prepares to make a deep sigh. God, why is she doing this to him?

❤️ — How much do you miss me?

↳ You — A lot

You — Thinking abt you since you left

He looks straight past his phone at his dick. It’s heavy against his thigh, pulsing against the warm skin. He wets his lips and looks back at the phone, just in time for another message to come through. 

You — A lot

↳ ❤️ — Show me

He could moan out. She knows him too well.

His hand slides around the underside of his dick. He tries not to squeeze too hard. 

Before getting with his girlfriend, he’s never been too eager to take nudes. Of course, he’s snapped a couple before, but those were an in-the-moment kind of thing. Not much thought was put into them.

However, since being with her, he’s taken more than enough pictures, videos, and audio messages to last a lifetime. 

It’s caused him to pay a bit more attention to the details of things. For instance, the angles he chooses and the lighting. It has to be perfect, damn near artistic—the way she likes it. 

So, when he snaps the photo and sends it, he expects nothing but praise from her. He awaits her response with bated breath. Three dots appear on his screen. 

You — [Attachment] 

↳❤️ — I should be the one calling you pretty

❤️ — Hope you’ve been following the rules

You — Yes

You — I always listen to you

He knows she’ll like that one. As much as she likes to believe that she can read him so well, that she can push his buttons so easily, he can do the same. They’ve been together for too long, now.

The dots disappear and reappear about twice. She’s thinking.

He tries to stifle a smile.

❤️ — So touch yourself

❤️ — I wanna hear it too

Does this woman know how much he loves her? 

He doesn’t think twice about opening his camera.

The soft, warm light of her vanity gives the video perfect lighting. Not too dark or too bright.

At first he only shows himself off, giving her a good view of his dick. After a couple of seconds, his hand slips away.

Without being held up, he’s hangs heavy, too hard to stand freely. Just a little, he makes it slowly bounce for the camera.

He wraps his hand back around it, pulls a shaky exchange from him. She’d have to have the volume all the way up to hear that. The slow pumps start as he drags a loose fist over himself.

“Mmh … Missed you, Mama,” he breathes out.

His eyes fall closed. That picture she sent is clear in his mind.

“You look so good tonight.” A soft groan was interlaced with his words.

His fist tightens as his strokes get harder.

“So pretty … Wish you stayed home with me—“

Thick droplets of precum dribble down his length. They don’t get to linger, as he rubs it into his skin. The creamy sound it makes is surely picked up by his phone’s mic. 

In the camera, his skin is shiny and smooth. The light sheen over it highlights every vein that lines his dick.

“F-fuck,” he whispers with a shiver, eyes barely rolling back. “Shit, I just …” He sniffs. “Just wanna … wanna f-finish in you—“

He stops abruptly to grip himself at the base. His balls jump and his dick twitches as he stops himself before a big orgasm.

“Fuck … augh—fuck,” he pants. Lazily, he slaps his dick, watching it bob stiffly. “Tell me … just tell me you want me to cum.”

He holds himself at the base again, feeling a strong pulse. He can barely keep his head up or his eyes open.

“Tell me … please, baby.”

He’s breathing heavy behind that camera. After he had practically begged for her, he cuts the video off and sends it without another thought.

As he waits for her response, he throws his phone down. He tosses an arm over his eyes, shutting out any light as he tries to calm his racing heart.

His phone buzzes only a minute after.

❤️ — My poor baby💔

❤️ — I think you need the ring 

❤️ — That was too close

He groans out, though he can’t pretend that the idea of it doesn’t make his dick twitch.

❤️ — I think you need the ring 

↳ You — I need you .

He stares at the screen for minutes. Her bubble doesn’t even appear in the chat. The longer he waits, the more disappointment creeps into his heart.

What’s taking her so long?

He wants to groan, whine—double text, even. As he picks up his phone to do so, it buzzes with one last message.

You — I need you . 

↳❤️ — I’ll be home soon

The sound of the door closing is what wakes him up. Lazily he pulls himself out of bed.

The soft clatter of movement in the kitchen teases his ears as he heads towards it. He rubs one of his eyes, shaking himself of sleep.

Pulling his hand away, he finally sees her—the light of his life—at the kitchen island. She must’ve just put down her bags on the counter. She’s half bent over, reaching down for something.

“Hey, baby.” Fatigue is laced with her smile. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

He hums, lids still heavy. “A lil’ bit, yeah. S’cool, though. I was waiting on you.”

“Awe,” she chuckles.

Though, her smile falls shortly after as she blows out a sigh, giving up to stand straight. Both her hands brace the countertop.

“Could you help me take these off?”

She kicks out a leg from behind the island so he can see her heel-clad foot.

He nods. Pushing forward, he moves to the island as she rounds it herself. Just when they meet each other halfway, she throws her arms around his shoulders and pushes up onto her tippy-toes.

He meets her halfway for three-quick smooches, both of them too tired to do anything more than that.

“Missed you,” he mumbles against her lips.

“Mmh, missed you, too,” she smiles.

Finally, she pulls away to sit at the first bar stool in the row. 

“How was the party?” He stands before her, picking up one of her legs.

“It was fun,” she says simply, watching as he holds her gently by the ankle to unbuckle the strap of her heel.

“Yeah?” He’s focused, his big hands unloosing the skinny, delicate material.

“Mhm … but, I wish you were there with me.”

He glances up just to see the playful pout on her lips. He does a half-hearted laugh. “You didn’t invite me.”

Not too long after does he get her shoe off.

“I know, it was no plus-ones allowed.”

He begins to massage the soft, reddened sole of her foot.

“Feels so good,” she groans as he presses his thumb right between the junction of her big toe and the others.

“They give you anything?”

“Yeah, um—“ she hisses, almost pulling her leg back after he had pushed his thumb too deep. It felt so good it almost caught her off guard.

“My bad,” he frowns, voice soft with regret.

But the sound she had made stirred something within him, even through his fatigue.

She gives him an understanding smile. “They gave me some perfume and … m-makeup.” 

The hitch in her breath and the way her face twitches gives him something to live for.

“Show it to me later?”

She nods as he carefully places her leg down to pick up the other foot.

This time when he takes off her shoe, he’s quieter. He pays the thud of her heel against the ground, no mind. He isn’t so quick to massage her foot, either.

Holding it, he takes the time to notice the fine details of it. Like the faint indents the straps made in her skin, and the square-shaped acrylic on her toes. 

The nails are decorated in gemmed French tips, rhinestones glistening underneath the kitchen light. They’re so pretty. He’s always loved how she keeps them done.

This time, when he massages her foot, he’s sure to take his time. He kneads the muscles with care, caressing the back of her foot as he does so.

All the while, she takes in his silence. It’s obvious that he’s focused on the task at hand, too focused. And very likely for his own reasons, too.

Chewing at her bottom lip, she uses her other foot to rub the inner-calf of his left leg.

“What’d you do while I was gone?”

A quick glance at her face is enough to catch the phantom smirk on her lips. He recenters his focus back on her foot, kneading a particularly tough spot.

“Oh—“ 

The tiniest moan slips out of her mouth.

“Y’know what I was doing.”

When she finally looks up, his gaze has her nailed to the seat. She swallows, remaining silent.

He looks back down at her foot and gently raises it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the soft sole. Gently, he puts her foot back down.

“M’done,” he mumbles, looking elsewhere as he weakly adjusts his pants.

Outstretching her arms wide, she wears her best puppy-dog eyes. “Take me to bed?” 

Without an answer, he gently grabs at her thighs, pulling her off the stool and picking her up. Immediately, she wraps her legs around him and throws her arms over his shoulders.

With an ease that has much more of an effect on her than it should, he hoists her up higher on his body. Their noses almost brush as he bounces her. Her lips are parted and her eyes are low as she focuses on his face only.

As he holds her, right above his waist, all he can think about is slamming her down on his dick. It’ll be so easy. If only she’d let him.

God, she doesn’t know what she does to him. She just doesn’t know.

His lower stomach swoops as he stares up into her low eyes. They practically suck him in, consuming all of his attention—he doesn’t even notice the tiny smirk on her lips.

Or maybe she does.

“Bed, Kenny,” she reminds.

He stalls, eyes flicking between hers. And then his senses come back to him and he’s shuffling towards the bedroom. His hands slowly make their way from the underside of her thighs to her ass, gripping soft fat. 

When they finally reach, he rests her gently on the messy sheets, earning a sigh straight from her lips.

She turns onto her stomach. “So glad—to be home,” she stretches, raising her ass as the arch in her back deepens. It’s a smooth, downward slope into to her shoulders. The way her ass spreads, stretching out the lace is just too good of a sight.

She moves slow, like the pull of a bow. Though, the arrow is released quick, and her body collapses like a bag of bricks into the sheets. The soft impact makes the fat of her ass jiggle slightly, and of course he stares.

“Just undress me,” he hears her say, her small chuckle is muffled by her folded arms.

Her legs hang over the edge of the bed, and she makes no attempt to correct herself. And refusing to ruin her peace, he simply moves over them.

A single knee digs into the mattress beside her hip while his next foot remains planted on the hardwood flooring. With a strong arm, he holds himself above her body, hovering as he reaches for the zipper at the top of her back.

Carefully, he plucks up the black metal and drags it down. The back of her jumpsuit is pulled open, parting further and further and the zipper reaches closer to the end of its track.

The smooth, shiny skin of her back is bared to him. With the inked flowers decorating the dark skin and the blur of leftover sleep still in his eyes, he has to concentrate to find the shallow ditches of skin right above her ass.

“Mmh—you’re so good t’me, Kenji.” She turns her head, the bottom half of her face still obscured by her arms. But, those siren eyes leer at him, batting at him with luxurious lashes.

He swallows, feeling just a bit of control slipping from him.

In an attempt to reel it back in, he pulls back to stand up, his knee still implanted in the mattress and effectively leaving his leg straddling one of her sides.

Blowing out, she slowly turns her body. Lying on her back, she peers up at him, seemingly oblivious to the way her boobs spill out of the suit now that it’s unzipped and loose.

His eyes immediately fall to her nipples. He’s got no shame about it. He’s dying to get one in his mouth.

“Pull it off,” she says gently.

His hands shake when they pull the lacey garment down her top half. When he gets to her legs, he finds himself gravitating closer to her body. 

That body oil she used earlier wafts off of her as he reveals more of her skin. The material stretches wide around her hips. His face is close to the triangle of skin her panties hide. He pauses, glancing up to see her staring back at him, watching closely.

He licks at his drying lips and continues.

When the jumpsuit is finally off, he throws it down on the floor somewhere behind him. It’s none of his concern anymore.

“Thank you, Kenji.”

He thinks she going to ask him to take her underwear off next. It’s something she’d do. And he’s waiting on it. Silently begging her for it.

She can tell by his demeanor. His body is tightly coiled, waiting for the chance to spring into action.

So she makes him wait, just a little bit. 

His hands press into the sides of his legs, desperate to keep busy. A tiny breath of amusement leaves through her nose.

“You want me to take it off?”

She actually smiles, almost laughing.

“Sure.”

Slowly, she lifts her knees to her chest and he’s moving without hesitation.

The thin fabric is rolled down her hips, up her thighs, and down her calves. When he discards of that too, her legs remain bent, toes pointed on their own accord.

He doesn’t look anywhere else but the plump set of lips squeezed between fat thighs. The pressure pushes her labia out, and he’s never been more entranced.

Without thinking, his hands land on the underside of her thighs. Fingers spread, feeling against smooth, supple skin. He pushes his hands up and up until they hook underneath her knees. He parts her legs. 

Her pussy opens up like a flower to show off a heated pink center. The prettiest flower he’s ever seen, a deep brown on the outside.

“Ken,” she says affectionately.

He blinks slowly. It’s a fight against himself to tear his eyes away from her cunt to look into her eyes. A fight he loses.

“Huh?”

“My clothes,” she reminds.

“A-ahuh…”

He’s still looking, seeing how her pussy winks back at him.

“Kenny…”

He pushes her legs further apart. Another clench. Her clit just barely pokes out from under its hood, waiting for his tongue to drop on its head.

His hips get closer to her. He licks his lips again.

“Kenji.”

Her tone tears his attention away from between her legs. He finally looks her in the eyes.

“You’re just gonna leave me like this?” Her voice is softer now, like she isn’t really all that concerned with such a fate. 

“My bad…” His eyes slowly sink right back to their previous spot. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, not even hearing himself.

“You hungry?”

It takes him a second to catch the joke. But he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t even laugh.

“A little.”

His hands grip the undersides of her knees just a bit tighter. She clenches just from the action.

Her eyes leave his face falling to the real star of the show: the outline of his dick through the pants. It’s too big to be ignored.

And she finds herself regretting this challenge again. Tired isn’t even the word, but she can’t lie, tired sex sounds really good right now.

Maybe they don’t have to really do it. She trusts herself not to mess up, just as long as she keeps him in line.

“Take it out.”

“Mh—what?”

“Take it out.”

He looks into her eyes, her words finally getting through to him. She sees the sobering look pass over his face.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

He snatches a hand out from under her knee to wrestle the hem of his sweats down his hips and thighs.

It’s almost like she watches it happen in slow-motion—how his dick bounces as it’s freed from its cloth-prison. So thick and heavy, it hangs between his legs. 

She almost moans when he grabs himself, doing a weak drag of his fist over it. 

His eyes are on his target. His heart is beating out of his chest with the thought of plunging headfirst into her oasis. It’s been so long, too long.

He shivers, squeezing the tip.

“I don’t want it.”

His gaze cuts to her face. It almost hurt her to lie like that. She had to keep strong.

“Just wanna feel you.” She can see the frustration in the twitch of his brows. But he keeps quiet. “Just don’t put it in.”

Whatever tension was visible on his face seems to melt away.

Dragging her closer, his body lights afire. Her ass is pressed to the front of his thighs. He’s dizzy as he takes himself in hand, giving one last tug before laying his dick against her.

He exhales with relief. She’s so warm, he shivers again. And she can feel his pulse against her clit. Her pussy flutters. He’s so heavy against her, a weight she’s missed. She aches to feel it inside of her.

He does a slow drag of his fist down his length, stopping just before the head. Then, he lifts it, not too far. 

She gasps softly with the light taps against her clit. Her legs twitch. But he leans more weight onto his arm, pushing her leg further back.

The taps get heavier, harder. The pudge of her pussy jiggles as he smacks her with his thickness.

A low hiss leaves him. “Ssshiiit…”

She swallows. “S-stop playing, Kenji.”

He does one last smack, particularly harder than the others. But, he keeps his hold on himself, pressing down as he does a slow, heavy glide through her lips.

Her hips stutter as he rolls over her clit. The entire length slides against her, all the way down to his balls. When he gets that far, he keeps his hips pressed to hers, watching how his dick lays against her tummy. 

Her belly button is hidden from view, and they’re both reminded of how deep he can get whenever he’s in it.

“I still can’t put it in?”

She shakes her head, eyes lower than before. Her chest is frozen as she stops breathing.

“Why?”

“‘Cause…”

“‘Cause what?” He’s staring intently at where they collide.

“‘Cause … I don’t want it.”

He licks his lips. “Mhm.”

He pulls his hips back and she feels like she can finally breathe again. 

“Hold me?” she asks.

He buffers for a moment before ultimately lowering himself. Once again, his dick slides tortuously against her lips as he presses his chest to hers.

Shorter arms fall around his neck and just as he had let go of her leg, both tighten around his waist. His hips are heavy against hers, pressing his dick between her lips.

“Mmh,” she moans out, eyes falling closed as she moves her hips against him.

He’s between her legs, weighing into her pussy and pressed against her stomach. It all leaves her dizzy. She almost tells him to put it in.

Almost.

She keeps her mouth shut…

Until he starts kissing on her neck. 

Her lips part as she starts gulping down air.

His hips starts to move in short, inch-by-inch strokes. They’re weak, but it’s enough for right now.

“K-Kenny—“ She gasps.

“C’mon, baby,” he says against her neck. His hands hook underneath her knees again, holding her open as his strokes get stronger and longer. “C’mon,” he whines. “Just the tip … please?”

She’s breathless as she shakes her head against him.

He kisses his teeth but doesn’t stop nor pull away. “You playin’ … you playin’ and you know it,” he rasps. “I won’t even move. C’mon, please?”

“N-no, Kenji.” Her voice waivers.

“Please, baby. Please—”

She gasps as his tip catches against her hole for the longest second of her life, teasing intrusion.

“Won’t move, I promise,” he moans in her neck. His hands grip her legs tighter. “Just want you to feel it … just the tip.”

His voice is breathy, full of desperation.

As he rests over her clit, he circles his hips and her back arches.

“Ohh, fuck,” she whines softly.

“Won’t even cum, just wanna feel you around me, baby … c’mon.”

His thoughtless babbling is running her crazy. She feels like she can’t breathe.

“Know it’s wet f’me. She misses me.” He drags his hips against her harder now. The collision of their hips is loud as he slams against her. 

She’s getting wetter, he can hear it. He can feel it.

“He misses you, too, baby,” he pants. “Misses you so … so bad—“

His hips freeze. He twitches against her. And she’s quiet as her wetness trickles against him.

“She’s leaking.” His voice is wrecked. “Lemme plug her.”

With a whimper, she shakes her head.

He lifts his head to look at her face. It’s clinched as she tries to hold back. He presses his lips to hers and she goes thoughtless as he kisses her all soft and slow. The soft smacks of their lips gets her wetter.

“Lemme give her what she wants,” he says against her lips. “C’mon.”

Her brain is mush, she can hardly see straight. And he takes advantage of her haze.

Twin gasps leave them, both melting into moans as his tip breaks past her lips and plunges into her walls.

“Ken—“

His hands leave from her legs. They pulls her arms from around his neck to push them onto the bed. He laces his fingers inbetween her own.

“S’good, right?”

She moans.

“Know you missed it,” he groans. His hips tremble as they hold back. “Missed all this dick…”

She flutters around him, desperate to pull more of him in. And she’s so tight, so wet.

“I-I’ma give it to her—“

A loud moan rips from her as he pushes all the way in, hard and sharp.

“K-Kenji!“

“I’m sorry, baby,” he pants. “M’sorry. Can’t stop myself. I can’t … can’t—“

He cuts himself off as he pulls out halfway, just to slide back in. His hands squeeze hers tighter as she tries to pull them away.

All of his weight he puts on her, trapping her beneath him as she drives his hips into her.

“M’sorry,” he moans out, not even pulling out at this point. He only ruts into her, knocking his dick against what feels like her cervix.

“K-ken!”

“Fuck, s’good … it’s s-so good!”

Mindlessly, he fucks into her, only chasing after his own pleasure. His eyes roll back into his head as he gets lost in the way she squeezes him so tight and floods around him.

“W-waaait—I—“

She’s creaming around him. Her pussy’s so sloppy, it squidges. 

“Don’t hold it,” he grunts, knocking into her harder. “Cum on my shit, cum on it, baby. S’yours! All yours…”

Her body trembles with overstimulation. But, he doesn’t stop, still rolling his hips. 

“Oh, fuck… Oh fuck!” His moans get louder as he feels his own orgasm approaching quickly.

Her body withers beneath his, only able to accept what’s being given to it. It overdoses on him, cream becomes squirt. She splashes around him, drowning him. 

And it triggers him; Ribbons of his cum splash against her cervix. All of the buildup from these last few weeks, he empties into her. And it’s so much, he feels like he’s going to pass out. She can only moan out as he fills her.

He’s pulsing in her and she’s clenching around him. They’re both lost in the throes of their orgasms.

Her limbs are heavy with fatigue (and the weight of his body against hers). It takes several minutes for them to return to a state of function.

When he finally pulls out, he watches his cum ooze from her stretched hole. And it just keeps going.

“Fuck,” he groans, so turned on by the sight of her filled with his release. It puts him in a trance, watching his nut decorate her pussy. 

When he can finally pull his attention away, he looks down at himself. His dick and inner thighs are full of their release.

“This shit so messy,” he says, still holding her open.

“Didn’t … listen,” she mumbles, weakly kicking at him.

“I know,” he pants. “I’ll take the punishment … I don’t care.” He swallows, his throat feeling dry.

She doesn’t say anything. Just as long as he knows.

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[hotwritergf]

Spencer had only been in an orgasm denial punishment for 3 days. But such a smart mind seeps away when he’s horny, leaving him nothing but a mindless submissive.

When you walked through the door, he practically jumps at you. Wrapping his arms behind your neck, nuzzling his face into the side of your throat. He breathes in your perfume and that’s when you feel it. His needy boner poking into your thigh, begging to be acknowledged. A smirk plasters over your face and you run your fingers through his unruly curls, your nails scratching softly against his scalp. Letting out a chuckle when you notice the goosebumps appearing on his wrists. Your boyfriend was always so worked up over so little touch.

He whimpers, a noise you’d listen to all day if you could. “Already baby? I’ve only just gotten through the door.” You speak, your words sickly sweet in his ear. “You said three days.” Spencer whines, “please.. I’ve been so good.” Your hand grips onto his thigh, bringing his tutting against yourself to a holt. Sliding your fingers up and over his bulge, tracing your index finger over the tip of his clothed cock. You can only imagine how he’s weeping for you, leaking into his boxers under your manicure.

“If you want me to touch you, you’ll need to beg.” You murmur, your dimples peeking into your skin from your smug, beaming smile. “P-please…” Spencer whines, pulling your shirt down and making light work of your bra. His lips latching onto the flesh of your breast before he swirls his tongue over your hardened nipple. “What’s the magic word Spence?” You tease, your voice full of playfulness and dominance. “Please, Mommy?” He responds like clockwork, feeding into your soft domination.

“There’s my good boy.” You speak before pushing him onto his knees, looking up at you through his already dampened eyelashes. His eyes full of hope and need, ready to be owned and used by his mommy.

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Barista x reader

A/N: If you wanna know more about the levels, check this post : )

Danger level: ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡ ♡

Yandere!Barista who is the “poster boy”of the coffee shop he works at. It is honestly deserved: he has a pretty face, a charming smile and a playful yet sweet attitude. He is especially popular among the girls…who he keeps rejecting. He is just not looking for something casual, you know? He dates to marry, not to be someone’s eye-candy.

Yandere!Barista who, one day, sees you walk into the store. Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt you have on ? He loves that band! This is what he tells you when it is your turn to order. What do you mean he looks too much like a goody two-shoes to be a fan? Alright, Miss “I am so dark and edgy”, what do you want to order? Black coffee? The banter goes on until he has to shoo you away, with an amused smile, as the other people in line are starting to get impatient.

Yandere!Barista who glances your way every chance he gets. Not only are you fun to talk to, but you also look really cute. Sometimes, between orders, he gets to converse with you. He eagerly returns your small wave when it is time for you to leave. As he goes to your table to collect the receipt, he finds your cup still there. On it, there is a small doodle of him along with your number. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he brings a hand to cover the side of his face. He is definitely keeping that cup.

Yandere!Barista who saved your number under “Cutie <3”. The more you text each other, the more you hang out together, the more he becomes obsessed. It is honestly starting to scare him. The other night, he had your cup in his hands to look at the doodle. Next thing he knew, he had his lips where yours had been when you were drinking from it. It flustered him so much, he threw the cup in the trash bin afterwards…only to go get it back five minutes later…He is asking you out on a date for sure next time he sees you.

Yandere!Barista who does your coffee with trembling hands. He really doesn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave him a choice. Today, on your usual table, you are sitting with a man other than him. He can’t possibly lose the only person who took the time to get to know him beyond his looks. The drug should work in about fifteen minutes, five minutes after closing time. This should be perfect, you always wait for him to close the shop and walk home together. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this…You will be happy at his house, you will be happy with him. It is with a heavy mind and painful heart that he gives you your order.

Yandere!Barista who you got pinned against the wall of the storage room, one hand beside his head and the other one holding your cup. He is as white as a ghost. He keeps looking around. He is sweating all over. This couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly know- You firmly grab his jaw and turn his face towards you. “Drink”, you say coldly. What are you gonna do to him after he becomes unconscious? Will you report him to the police? Will you hurt him? He closes his eyes tightly as you bring the cup to his lips. The moment it reaches them, you drop it on the floor and replace it with your lips. His eyes open in shock as you give him a small, tender kiss. “That was my cousin, idiot”, you tell him affectionately. You look at him for a couple more seconds before putting on your bag. He is still frozen in place as you add: “Tomorrow, 6pm, at my house. Alright?”. You leave before he can answer.

Yandere!Barista who slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. All that is left of him is a blushing, quivering mess. With shaky fingers, he touches his lips; a small whimper involuntarily comes out his mouth. He is about to combust. He feels so weak, he can’t get up. You scared the shit out of him, but that was so hot ahh…He didn’t know you could be this assertive. And that kiss…he buries his face in his hands and groans. Kissing you is all he has ever dreamed of, yet he stayed still like a dumbass when it finally happened. He is so lame-you make him so lame. Guess tomorrow would be his chance to redeem himself.

[madammidnightsblog]

Yandere Student x Teacher Darling

WARNING: public setting (classroom), yandere behavior (delusional), exhibition, m! masturbation, self-teasing, student fantasizing about adult (18-19 student, 20-30 adult), sub! male Yandere Student knows it's wrong, he knows it, but he cannot help it. Something about you just drives him insane and he cannot help watching you from the back of the classroom, one hand stuffed into his pants and rubbing himself off while you were busy teaching.

He knows that it's disgusting and deprived but how could he stop when your voice just makes his dick twitch. And those soft and round curves of your body make him want to bury himself against you and hump you like the pathetic boy he is. So, his hand was wrapped around his small dick, pumping it slowly which biting his lip to quiet the whimpers and whine that was threatening to spill from him. His hips twitching up into his hand as the tight restriction of his jeans and boxers making it harder to move his hand without looking obvious.

"Now," You turned around with a pretty smile on your face, your pink lips parting slightly to chuckle at the clueless expressions of your students. The new topic of biology was enough to make them all blink and look at you with pure confusion which made you find your students adorable, "It's time to understand the biology of the cellular structures."

Yandere Student was watching how your body softly jiggles in place when you moved around in front of the white board, writing down the basics of the course. Oh, how he loved the way your turtleneck hugged your soft tummy and those large tits of yours, following the curves with his eyes as his hand moved slower around his base, swiping his thumb along the beads of pre at his purpling tip. A low moan left him when his eyes finally land at those dress pants at your wide hips, and he almost came when he noticed the little tummy pouch that stuck out. Everything was so damn beautiful and sexy on your body, all of those soft curves and fat that was hugging your body. What he would do just to feel on that beautiful body of yours and worship you like the goddess you were.

Your eyes scanned the room to see the yandere student in the back of the classroom, his eyes glossed over and watching intensely. To you, he looked interested in what you were teaching with how he was staring what you believed to be the board as his right arm seemed to be moving but little did you know he finally just pulled his dick out under his desk. His hand moving quickly as he notice you're glancing his way, and he can't help but think you're away what he's doing, and it was making him all flustered. But unlike normal people in this situation who would think that he should stop because you might notice and be uncomfortable- no, he thinks you're enjoying it and think he looks so cute. I mean, why else do you keep looking back at him? You must like him and find him so cute, knowing he's jerking off like a good boy and not making a mess on the floor. His breathing grows heavier the more his eyes wonder your body and imagining what you could possibly be thinking of when you look around the classroom. You must obviously want class to end and take care of him, after all, he's a good boy that has a bad home and need your attention since his mother died mysteriously a few months ago so, he must still be trying so so hard to be back to normal. You care about your student so much so, it wouldn't be such a bad thing to take care of him- right?

[lavender543]

Longing - Chapter 2

Yandere!Knight x (Evil?)Queen!Reader

Synopsis: You are a queen with a not so great reputation. He is your most trusted, and extremely stoic knight. Lets just say you don't know just how much he would do for you. (he's been secretly pining after you for awhile). Warnings: Dark themes, topic of war, Yandere behavior (mild)

Previous chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1

Almost immediately after the other kingdoms admitted defeat to you, and the war was officially over, you ordered all knights to return to the palace. You hated the idea of them having to stay away from their home even a second longer than they had to.  

Despite the people that believe you to be evil, you still had a heart. And for that, you knew that you had to compensate these warriors for what they fought and sacrificed for your kingdom. It was only fair; you may be a cruel enemy, but you were also a very generous ally. 

So, upon the arrival of the surviving knights, you would bestow them each a title (if they didn't have one already), a plot of land, and enough money to live a comfortable life.  

There would be a grand ball held in honour of the brave knights, and for the victory of your kingdom. Everyone, not just nobles, was invited. You would hold a tremendous feast so that, at least for a night, everyone could eat well, (poverty was no stranger to your kingdom unfortunately).  

In foresight, you dreaded having to clean up after this war, it took a toll on your kingdom's riches, but you were determined to make up for it.  

The ball was not only to celebrate the victory, but to also show your people what was to come. That, and you couldn't help but hope it would cease the protests that have been going on since the war started.  

So, with that, you were neck deep in work and preparations for the celebration, as well as taking care of the aftermath of war. You were swamped with work right up until the day the soldiers arrived at the capital. 

There was a huge parade, and everyone celebrated their return. Families got to see their loved ones once more. It was safe to say that many were happy. You couldn't help but let your cold exterior crack slightly, a smile appearing on your face at the warm displays.  

After the parade, you sat atop your throne, as you announced the payment each knight would be given, as well as their release of contract. Those who wished could continue to serve you as royal knights, or they could live a quiet life with their payment. No one seemed to have an issue with these options, to your relief.   

Then, you dismissed everyone for the rest of the day to rest and prepare for the ball. The crowd cheered with joy as everyone slowly descended. 

You were not oblivious to the Grande knights' accomplishments, or his reputation as the “bloodhound.” You knew of all the rumors about this certain warrior; that he was ruthless, heartless, the list was endless. You weren't one to believe gossip, but it did intrigue you. Who was this man? And was he as cold and despicable as everyone described?  

Besides your curiosity, you had also wanted to reward him personally for his contributions to the war. So, you called a private meeting with him after the parade and waited in your throne room for his arrival.  

--------- 

Everett was beside himself when he was informed you wished to see him in private. Did you possibly know it was him? The boy you met in the garden? But how could you? He had changed so much since that day; he was almost unrecognizable. 

You had changed as well, he thought. When he saw you up there on that pedestal, during the parade, he was breath taken. After his rough journey back to the capital, his tired, baggy eyes felt relief upon the sight of you. You shined so brightly; it looked as if there was a halo above your head.  

You had grown up so beautifully (not that you weren't already beautiful before) and so elegant yet powerful, and he was convinced you were a goddess. He, a filthy dog, felt unworthy to even look upon your divine self. In fact, everyone here was unworthy of even looking at you.  

Before he could think much more about it, your angelic voice rang out, as you informed the soldiers you were to reward them for their services. Gods you were so benevolent, so kind and giving.  

He was so engrossed in staring up at you, that he didn't realize his heart was thundering in his chest at the mere sight of you; It was almost painful, just as it was now, as he stood outside the doors to your throne room.  

---------- 

You were surprised by the sight of the grand knight as he entered the room. You didn't know what you were anticipating, but it definitely wasn't this hulking figure. He was quite tall, and broad with muscle. His hair was as dark as a starless night sky, and long enough to reach his shoulders.  

He walked up to the throne you were sitting on and kneeled in front of you, not once looking at you. His hair covered his face as he bowed, and you couldn't get a good look at it.  

Ok now you definitely needed to know what he looked like; the anticipation was killing you.   

“No need to kneel, you have proven yourself quite enough, honorable knight. Stand up so I can see your face.”  

Your command was strict and confident, that of an experienced ruler, yet it was soft at the same time.  

He followed your command almost instantly, standing tall and stiff. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you couldn't help the feeling of familiarity washing through you, yet you couldn't quite place it.  

Brushing the feeling aside, you spoke: 

“I have called you here today in order to reward you personally for the great effort and success you have achieved in the war. Not only did you rise to the highest position as Grande knight, but you also led your troupes to countless victories and essentially won the war. For that, I am grateful, and with this gratitude, I shall grant you any one wish you so choose.”  

The knight remained stoic throughout your speech, and you wondered if he even cared about this whole thing. There was a moment of silence, where the two of you just looked into each other's eyes......but then it got awkward, and you spoke once more. 

“If it is needed, you may take a few days before deciding on what you would like...” 

You trailed off, not knowing what else to say. The knight was expressionless the whole time. It was a little scary in all honesty, but you were a queen, you were used to these types of interactions.  

Then, almost hesitantly, the knight replied. 

“If I may, your Majesty, I have my wish.” 

There was a beat, “and that is....?” 

You said, intrigued. 

“I would like to be your personal guard, your Highness, that is my wish.” 

He said it confidently, as if he already knew what he wanted beforehand. You couldn't help but gape at his response, not ever would you have guessed this would be his response. Without thinking you blurted: “Are you sure this is what you want? I was thinking you would want something like riches, or.....”  

You trailed off awkwardly. This whole thing was just odd, but he replied quickly so you couldn't dwell. 

“Yes, this is what I want.” 

Still surprised, you replied hesitantly. 

“Very well, I promised you anything, and if this is your wish, you shall be my personal guard. We will discuss matters more in depth later, but for now, go and enjoy the ball.” 

At your dismissal, the Grande knight nodded, turning to leave. 

“Wait!” 

you called out without thinking, quickly composing yourself. 

“I must know, what is your name?” 

He turned back to you and spoke calmly. 

“It is Everett, your majesty, just as you named me.” 

And with that, he turned and left, leaving you to sit there in shock.  

It was him; you finally recognized him. The little boy from your childhood.  

----------- 

As soon as the doors closed, Everett panted heavily, a blush spreading rampant over his face. His heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest (and across the frickin world at this point). His hands shook as he ran them up over his face and then combed through his hair. 

He couldn't believe that had just happened. You would let him—he got to--he would get to spend every day with you now, be by your side, protect you--this was the best day of his life. And the way you commanded him like that—his eyes rolled back recalling the pleasure.  

He’s waited so long for this. He may not be worthy of you, no one could be worthy of you-- you were meant to be worshipped--but he would do his best.  

So, as Everett walked down the large, beautifully adorned hallway, he thought of all the ways he could please you.  

A/N: Another chapter Yayyyy! Hope you guys enjoyed it! Next chapter will be the royal ball! I'll try to get the next chapter out soon :D

[evielmostdefinitely]

hiiii could you please write something about aftercare with young snow? like how in jealous girl it says he babied her afterwards, but a whole fic about it? i just wanna see how sweet a cruel man like snow can be 🤭

tip of my fingers |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, aftercare with snow.

contains: fluff. mentions of dom/sub themes. possessive snow.

Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath from his post orgasm. He always got flushed like this after a night of particularly rough sex. 

“‘M going to the shower, my love.” Corio muttered, curls matted to his forehead, muggy and sweaty. His hand patted the top of your thigh, gentler than before, your skin still raw and sensitive. 

You didn’t move, didn’t utter a word, really didn’t make a sound besides a pathetic whine. Corio’s head snapped around, turning to you in an instant. His eyes narrowed carefully, scanning over you like he was assessing his latest plans. “Are you alright?” 

Your glazed eyes staring off, face turned, smushed into the mattress, a pool of your own drool beneath you. Normally he’d mock you, tease you for being so messy. “My messy girl, look at you.” He’d give you a grin that felt more like a sneer. 

Not this time. 

Coriolanus called your name, softly but firmly, crouching in front of you. His hand rubbed over your clammy forehead, heated cheeks still flushed from your climax. “Look at me, darling.” Corio muttered, fingers tracing over your cheek down the slope of your neck. You shuddered but didn’t turn to him, still lost in your own haze. “Can you hear me?” 

Your own mind was miles away from that very bedroom, lost under roaring waves and a hazy fog that Corio always got you in. Usually you snapped back quicker, a few loving kisses, the shock of a cold rag cleaning you up. Other times, it was more difficult. 

Coriolanus moved to the bathroom, swallowing down the venomous bark of spewing orders that threatened to fall from his lips. He didn’t like this feeling, when he was out of control, especially with you. When something was wrong and he didn’t know an immediate fix. The rational side of himself told him to stay calm, do what he knew to before spiraling into a panic. 

Corio tried to swallow down his beating heart, wringing the cold water out of the cloth, before walking back into the bedroom. The air was still thick and hot, sticky with the lingering musk of sex. He moved beside you, wordlessly, smoothing the cloth over your forehead. 

The icy feeling shocked your system, leaving your shuddering, mind lurching back, vision clearing. Corio was before you, brows pinched with a concerned frown, studying you carefully. Your eyes met his, blinking helplessly before him. He swallowed a groan at how it made his cock lurch, seeing you so weak and needy. 

“My love,” Corio’s hand slid down your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “Are you alright?” 

You blinked, moving into his touch, nearly instinctively. “You’re alright?” Corio pressed, head tilting in a much softer way to look at you. “Yes?” 

You nodded, pushing off the mattress, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch of sore skin on your ass and thighs. Coriolanus had used his belt, your favorite, tonight. 

“Be careful.” Corio clicked, hands wrapping around your biceps, much softer now than before. “You’re going to be sore, darling girl. Careful.” His tone softer now, hushed mumblings as he helped you up. 

You winced when your raw skin brushed the silk of the sheets, the ghosting of a whimper on your lips. Corio shushed you gently, sitting next to you, pulling you into his lap. His hand brushing down your hair, your skin sticky on his own. 

“How are you feeling?” Coriolanus muttered, lips brushing against your scalp, breathing in the sweaty scent mixed with your perfume from before. 

“‘M alright.” You muttered, your cheek against his pec. You could hear his heart rate, how it fluttered and stilled to a steady rhythm. How it would erupt in an excited crescendo when you finally spoke, making your veins fill with ooey gooey rushes of adoration. For all of Coriolanus’ cruelties, his harshness- he did love you. It was evident in moments like these. 

“Do you need the healing ointment? I can get it from the servant’s quarters-” 

“-I’ll be alright, Corio.” You hummed, eyes pulling heavily. The exhaustion washes over you in thick waves. “I just want you to hold me, please.” Your eyes lifted, rounding sweetly. 

He’d be a fool not to, Coriolanus decided, pulling you closer into his chest. He liked you like this, pliant and at his every whim, completely reliant on him. 

Corio moved to the bath after, quieting your whines of protest with a small tut, coaxing kisses to your temples, testing the bath water with great show while you sat on the ledge. 

You stayed pressed to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, like you might float away or dissolve if he let go. Corio let you, ego swelling off the dependency. 

“Did I go too hard?” Corio hummed, a sudsy hand rubbing down your spine. The bath filled with the tonic fresh from District Eleven, dried orange peels, lavender, and rose. Coriolanus brought it to you, after his last visit to the district. You had swooned over it, smothering him sillily in kisses that made him blush. 

“No,” You shook your head, inhaling the scent that was entirely his. “I think it was the teasing and the spanking, at the same time. I just- I wasn’t ready for it.” You knew what he wanted to hear. Coriolanus had always been adamant after your rough play that you debrief him. It felt very professional, which is why you were reluctant, but that type of blunt, straight forward reporting is what Corio responded best to. 

Corio nodded, a low hum vibrating out of his chest, tickling your ear. “I see. I won’t do it as much next time.” He wouldn’t apologize, but you could hear it in his unspoken words. 

“Just not as much at the same time.” You whispered sheepishly, as if he didn’t know every part of you. 

Coriolanus nodded, a wet hand rubbing the base of your neck, scratching your scalp gently. He knew you loved it, knew it would have your head tipping back into his touch so he could kiss you. 

You let him wash you, dry you off- only whimpering when the towel brushes over your ignited skin. He shushed you, a silent apology, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. He put the ointment on anyway, muttering flippantly about how “you had obligations tomorrow, and didn’t need to be squirming the whole time”. You knew it was because it made him feel better. 

Corio dressed you in your nightgown, slipping the powdery blue, soft fabric over your skin, trailing kisses from the back of your shoulder to your ear. 

Underneath the silk of the sheets, you slept in his arms, face to face, whispering in the darkness of the room. It always brought out the vulnerability of Coriolanus in these moments, holding you, feeling you, smelling you- he’d bear his soul to you. 

“I’m unsure about the games.” Corio muttered, arms tightening around you. 

“Unsure in what way, honey?” You hummed, finger raking through his curls, behind his ear- his favorite spot. 

“Unsure that they’ll be as successful as they need to be.” Corio hummed, and even through the dark you could see the concern on his features. “Unsure that people will watch.” 

You paused for a moment. You decided not to tell him how you truly felt, not then, anyways. Selfishly, you didn’t want to ruin the intimacy, the softness of the moment. “I’m sure they’ll be everything you hope for them to be.” You hummed, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Everything always does.” 

Your words, as forced as they were, brought comfort to Coriolanus. His head falling back into your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp. Fingertips brushing skin, hushed words, and soft kisses all exchanged under the twilight of the night. Tomorrow, you’d be prim and proper. You’d stand beside Corio respectfully, hide your grimace at the mention of the upcoming reaping, refrain from rolling your eyes at the suck ups that flocked to Coriolanus in a giddy, exaggerated manner. You two would be the picture of perfection that Panem wanted you to be. For now, you’d be content to lay in each other's arms, being yourself instead.

[ak319]

Yan Socialite Brother x reader x Yan?Hubby

YOUR LITTLE EZZY'S BACK! So I couldn't help but write more about him. I will also write a version with the reader's wife. Enjoy reading ♡ Ezra Headcanon

In the dark hours, the Alvarez estate was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire that danced in the hearth. Shadows stretched across the grand, dimly lit room, adding to the air of peculiar mystery that seemed to cloak the entire estate. Ezra sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the flames that flickered with a restless energy, mirroring the turmoil within him. The news you had shared with him still echoed in his mind, fanning the fire of his emotions, making it burn hotter, fiercer.

"Amir?.." his eyes were fixed on your back as you scrummaged through the bookshelf. You replied back gently. "Yes, Amir. The boy who works on one of the farms."

So a slave huh?

And then you explained everything to Ezra, from how you saw Amir, appreciated his gentle nature, and were now thinking of bringing him here as your groom. Ezra’s rage simmered beneath the surface, though his fake smile and curious eyes never left your face. But your tone didn’t match the word "thinking", it clearly said, "I am bringing him as my groom." He was happy… happy for you. But on the other hand, he wasn’t happy for himself.

This was the day he had dreaded. For his own peace of mind, he sent one of his attendants, Rowan, to inquire about this so-called Amir. The report? Amir was a poor servant with three siblings and parents who also worked on the farm. Amir was the oldest. Hm. Poor, innocent, loyal, and not too bad-looking, though in Ezra's eyes, everyone pales in comparison to Alvarez's. Nobody can ever be good enough for you. He just didn't want his sister to marry a dirt-face. After all, their family has a certain dignity in society. There was something he relished in this situation, Amir’s meekness, bred by his lower status, was something Ezra could use and if his sister were to marry, it should be to someone who knows their place.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Amir couldn’t shake the memory of the way you approached him that day.

“M-my lady-”

“It’s okay, relax. Just came to greet you and see how the work is going.” His hand continued to glide through the horse’s mane, though his gaze, filled with shyness and respect, lingered on you. You loved that. “What’s your name, boy?”

“A-Amir…ma’am.” You asked him more questions, and with each one, his initial fear of you began to fade. Eventually, he even dared to ask some of his own. He didn’t realize that he had backed away to the fence, cornered by your every step forward.

“I don’t think a…” You gently removed a leaf from his silky hair. “A pretty thing like you belongs on a farm.” His quick breaths brushed your face before he turned away. Did you just compliment him?! How could you not? He was so unique with that snowy hair and those pale green eyes. “U-um, but I have to-w-work to earn-for-”

“What if I say, not anymore?”

On that very day, you boldly asked his parents for his hand in marriage, right there on the farm, while Amir stood paralyzed in disbelief. His parents, naturally, agreed without a moment's pause, and his heart raced as he caught your final glance over your shoulder before you rode off with your men. How could a humble servant like him ever be worthy of becoming your husband? The idea felt impossible, undeserved. But as the reality settled in, he came to see it not as a blessing but as a test---a daunting trial between love, loyalty, hate… and obsession.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

'Time to play some games' Ezra smirked in the mirror as he gave himself a once-over. "Nobody can outshine you Ezra or take your place, nobody."

The grand staircase of the mansion, lavishly adorned for his sister's wedding, became the stage for Ezra's entrance. As he descended, everyone’s eyes were drawn to him. His gaze landed on you seated beside Amir on the sofa, and his smirk widened at the sight of Amir’s expression. Those doe eyes that have seduced his sister were now filled with embarrassment, as they should be.

Amir was at a loss. His brother-in-law, dressed in an outfit nearly identical to his own--albeit more glamorous and in a different color--had just exposed Ezra's facade. All the sweet words and actions before the wedding had been an act. Ezra settled onto the cushion next to you, casually nibbling on some food from the table, savoring the revelation of his little game.

"Ezra, you should have rested," you said, your tone carrying a hint of concern. Amir was taken aback, noticing your relaxed demeanour. It seemed you hadn’t caught onto Ezra’s stunt. It wasn’t your fault, after all. Maybe you are too tired to notice or don't want to scold your brother, whom you cherish deeply, especially in front of guests—many of whom were now eyeing Ezra with a mix of admiration and curiosity. His display was a calculated reminder that he would always eclipse Amir. Ezra had even missed the official ceremony, claiming illness as his excuse and retreating to his room.

"Nonsense!. How could I have missed my own sister's wedding? And did you forget that I managed all these preparations?. I would never miss it."

'Oh, but you missed the vow ceremony, how convenient and now he's here to remind everyone how he managed all of this and such a good brother-in-law he is by being sweet to me and my family.'

"Do I look good, sister?"

"Of course you do. When have you ever looked bad?" You reached out to pat his head affectionately before pulling a small pouch from your pocket. "This is for you Ezra, a token of appreciation for your efforts, as tradition dictates."

Ezra’s eyes sparkled with delight as he accepted the pouch of gold. "It was nothing. Thank you so much. I just did my duty."

He got up soon to cater to guests including Amir's family probably to show off how humble he is.

The only thing keeping Amir sane and easing his worries was you. Your hand held his gently, and he felt comforted by the ring you put on his finger. He placed his other hand on yours, needing the reassurance that you were there for him.

‘As long as you’re here,’ he kept praying silently.

However, as days passed since the marriage, Ezra's facade toward his brother-in-law began to crumble in your absence. Amir couldn’t understand why Ezra, who had been nothing but nice to him, now seemed to act cold and distant.

The taunts, the disgusted glances, and the deliberate ignoring of Amir had become a painful routine. What troubled him the most was Ezra’s ability to put on a friendly front when you were around. He wondered how a person could even do that? Can he be this deceitful too? His parents always taught him to be kind and true to people. That is why he bared himself to you, he opened his heart to you and gave himself completely. By now he had come to terms with it that Ezra won't ever see him as part of the family much less as an equal. But he remained focused on making sure you were happy with him, that he never made you upset with him because that is what Ezra wants but with Amir's modest and docile nature, it was nearly impossible,

"You know, Amir, since my sister is away on a business trip, you might as well stay with your parents for a while." Amir looked up from his untouched breakfast, confusion and concern etched on his face.

"U-um... why?"

"Why?" Ezra's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Well, your duty is to her, and since she’s not here, you might as well go. It’s not like you’re doing anything important around here."

"But—"

"I’ll have the carriage prepared." And just like that he got up and left, Rowan tailing behind him. And so, Amir found himself spending days with his family. His spirits lifted somewhat in their comforting presence, but his thoughts were always clouded by how much he longed to be in your arms. However...

"You don’t just get up and leave like this. Did you even realize how badly this reflects on me? My spouse just vanished after a few days of marriage. I expected you to be waiting for me at the door, but instead, you were here." Your words felt like sharp needles piercing his heart, making him clutch the carriage’s cushion tighter. His mind was filled with images of Ezra welcoming you back, whispering deceitful tales of how he had left.

'He was bored.'

'He doesn’t like it here. I think he doesn't even want to make an effort to adjust.'

'He didn’t even bother to greet you. What kind of husband is he, sister?'

"(Y/N), I d-didn’t mean to leave. It’s just--" What could he say to avoid further anger? Should he blame Ezra? The thought of making excuses or casting blame only added to his distress.

"I don’t care. Next time, don’t leave like that. And if you feel the need to, ask me first. Got it? Also, you can just call your family to visit there. That’s your home now, you don’t have to keep coming back here." He nodded, biting his lip. 'As if your brother would ever let my family feel welcome there. I would never subject them to that mansion of thorns, to be insulted. That’s something I won’t tolerate.'

"Forgive me?" he asked softly, leaning closer to you. "Please, I missed you with every breath." A tired sigh and a gentle caress on his face were all he received, but even that was more than enough for him.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Time seemed to pass slowly for Amir, each day filled with torment and venomous words from Ezra. He hid his tears, letting them out in some corner of the mansion , so that when you returned, he could greet you with a smile. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't want to stress you by complaining about your brother or involving you in this petty game. He felt like he was going mad as he dwelled on his thoughts. The books offered some solace, but he wished his life were more like a fairytale.

“Well, I thought you should take care of the household budget now, but I think it’s too soon for you to handle this. There are a number of reasons for my distrust, which... I would prefer not to share.”

“It’s alright... I just joined the family, so I think it’s inappropriate for me to take on that responsibility. And brother Ezra is handling it well anyway.”

“Thank you for understanding.” You gently played with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “I love how understanding you are.” He melted under your compliment, the magical touch adding to his contentment.

“Anything for you, wife. You know better than me. Whatever decision you make, I’ll always accept it.” He kissed your finger, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of the ring you wore. The ring his family had bought with whatever they could afford, and yet you wore it. You were the only one who hadn’t looked down on him because of his status. You even cared for his family, sending them provisions and gifts.

Actually, there was another person who hadn't looked down on Amir--your mother, Ms. Grace. She was a woman who preferred solitude, keeping herself busy with her hobbies after her husband's death. Whenever Amir felt alone, he made sure to check on her, offering company and conversation.

“You’re a really good boy. My daughter found a gem.” Amir smiled, but his eyes told a different story. They were seated in Grace’s study, having tea. “Something troubles you, and I know what it is. It’s Ezra, isn’t it?” Damn it, is it that obvious?

“N-no, no, he’s nice. I’m just--”

“Oh, save it. He’s my son, I can smell his shenanigans from miles away. And that daughter of mine—utterly stupid!. She’s the reason he’s like this. Either she’s too aloof or just chooses to ignore it.”

“No, no! She has a lot on her plate. I just don’t want to burden her with such petty problems. She brought me here so that she could find peace, not for me to disrupt it.” Grace’s heart swelled with pity and love at his words. “You are my son too, okay? And I’m just trying to help you understand that you’re the only one who can help yourself.”

“W-what does that mean?”

"It means you have to be strong. You’re not some piece of garbage my daughter picked up. She brought you here, gave you a title, and bestowed you with respect--so honor it, and don’t let anyone take it away just because they think you don’t deserve it. My in-laws were a piece of work too. May their souls rest in peace, but I went through some tough times with them. What kept me firm was my husband. Do you get my point?"

Her in-laws--oh, what a tragedy that befell them on that ferry. The whole town was shaken. Perhaps it was their karma.

“Yes.”

"You love her, right?" His head snapped up to meet her eyes. Was that even a question?

"More than anything! Always."

"Then don’t beat yourself up like this. Just do your part and leave the rest to God. Everything will be alright one day." Amir nodded and took a sip of his remaining tea, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. She was right. Being depressed and crying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Worse, you might even leave him because of his sulky behavior. His fingers tightened around the saucer.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"Sir Ezra has called for you," Rowan informed him as he was putting on his shoes. The two of you were getting ready for dinner. "Me?"

"Yes, you, sir. In his room."

"I'll be there." He glanced at you as you were fastening your coat. "Yeah, go ahead, I'll be waiting downstairs." He nodded and left, but not before helping you with your sleeve buttons and giving you a quick peck.

"You called for me?" His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room, his eyes finding Ezra nestled in his giant bed.

"Oh yes, you two are going out, right? Could you tell (Y/N) to bring back those pastries that I love?" Something felt off.

Amir swallowed the uneasiness and glanced between Ezra and Rowan. "Sure. Anything else?"

"No. That would be all, thank you."

As always, you had chosen a high-end restaurant, and your presence and attention made him forget all his worries. This was what he cherished the most, his time with you. Your care, your love. He felt, no, believed that he was the luckiest man alive. Contrary to Grace's words, you did pick him from the trash and made him your treasure.

When you both entered the mansion hand in hand, your smile immediately faded into a worried frown.

"EZRA!" Amir barely had time to react as he saw you rush up the stairs where Ezra was now slumped against the railing. The bag of pastries had been thrown from your hands and lay at his feet.

"ROWAN! CALL THE DOCTOR! What happened, Ezra?!"

"Di-did you bring the med...?" Ezra's one hand gripped your collar as the other his stomach.

"What medicine?!"

"The one I asked for..." Ezra's weary, hollow gaze turned to Amir, sending a chill through his very core. "Rowan, help me carry him." You shot a sharp glance over your shoulder at Amir as you hurried up the stairs.

'He did it again... God,' Thought Amir as he bent down to collect the crumbles scattered on the carpet. They mirrored his own shattered emotions and the fractured state of his new life.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I swear he asked for pastries... you believe me, don't you!? Please!"

"I said, let it go. Just shut up." You settled onto the bed, sighing as you saw him standing in the corner, emotionless.

"Amir, come here. There is something you should know." Your tone was soft, almost apologetic.

He sat beside the bed, his eyes cast on the floor. "Listen, I feel like you both don't get along, but that needs to change, okay? He is my brother, and you are my husband. Both of you are important to me. And I wanted to tell you that soon after having a talk with him, I will ask Mother to find a suitable bride for him. This family needs an heir."

Wait...

"Heir?"

"Yes, an heir. Even though, as you know, I'm not a fan of children in any shape or form, the line needs to continue. That is Ezra's duty, so he is essential to me. This whole tedious business of having children...ugh." You rubbed your forehead in frustration. "Whatever. But we will also treat them like our own, okay?" You loathed the idea of carrying a child yourself, and Amir was just as opposed to the thought of you experiencing any discomfort. The thought of losing you over that made him shiver. The business was more important to you than anything, and you made that very clear before marriage. Your word was law. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

"C-can't we both... adopt, though?"

"That's for another day and why adopt now when we can have our own? Ezra has to marry someday. It’s completely fair. He needs to grow up now."

Your tone and earlier outburst made him nod frantically, but a new emotion stirred within him , something close to amusement. Oh, how will Ezra react when you make him marry someone. Maybe it’s for the best, 'At least he’ll get off my back, hopefully.'

Yet, he also felt pity for the woman who would be bound to that two-faced bastard. Is your only goal to use your brother as a breeder? That’s even more amusing.

As you lay down, he went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. If Ezra were to provide you with a child one day, wouldn’t that make him more honorable in your eyes?

'No, after today’s stunt, I’ve had enough of this.'

You want a child, an heir--that’s clear, that's fine. But he won’t let Ezra exploit this situation.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I--I mean--" Ezra stammered, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words.

You held his face in your hands, your grip firm yet gentle, your eyes searching his. "It's not like I am asking for something outrageous here," you said, your tone soft but laced with expectation.

Ezra's eyes darted away for a moment, then back to you. "I get you, but isn’t it too soon? I mean-"

"You're of age," you cut him off, your tone now tinged with a bit of annoyance. "You’ve never rejected anything I’ve asked of you before, and now you are?"

"NO! No, absolutely not, sister!" Ezra's voice was a mix of desperation and determination. "How can you even think that? I will do it. I will." Inside, though, his mind rebelled. It’s not the marriage that Ezra hates, it’s the idea of spending his life with some annoying woman. What if she turns out to be a snake too?! Oh, he won't forgive that, ever. His eyes betrayed a flicker of dread before he quickly masked it with a forced smile.

"Great, then. Mother will surely find the most amazing match for you," you said with finality, turning to leave. "Just make sure to tell her what your type is. Remember, she shouldn’t just be a good wife but a perfect mother for my heir too."

Without another word, you exited the room, leaving Ezra alone with his spiraling thoughts. Did Amir put this idea in your head? Sometimes, Ezra just wanted to kill that son of a-

"Deep breaths, Ezra, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the surge of frustration. Yeah, his sister wouldn’t be happy if her husband was torn to pieces. 'This is your life now', seeing Amir’s face in this mansion every single day, and soon enough, a wife’s too. Ugh! He threw a vase at the wall in a fit of irritation. He won't ever be in peace until you divorce Amir.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on that for now. He had to carry out your order, even if he despised the thought of dealing with an annoying woman and whining babies. You had given him a task, a job, and he couldn’t let you down. He would never let you down.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Ezra's bride, Jean Aston, had been chosen--an arrangement made with a family friend. While Ezra couldn't have cared less about the choice, he at least appreciated that Jean stood out with her striking red hair and green eyes. His wife needed to be of some caliber, though in his view, only one person could be the true beauty of the marriage, and that person was unquestionably him. However, he also acknowledged the importance of passing on good genes to the heir you desired.

What he hadn’t expected was Jean’s bubbly demeanor. Wasn't she the one who had been too shy to meet him before the wedding?

"Can you be quiet? Can you be a bit more demure?" Ezra snapped, his patience wearing thin as she chattered incessantly, sitting beside him after their vows. "Look at me--am I being so chattery? Bride and groom are supposed to be graceful, woman."

Jean’s expression soured beneath her veil. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. I’ve been quiet since our engagement, so I’m going to talk now that we’re married. Also when is the food going to served?I am starving, how can-"

'God, just let this ceremony end already.'

Meanwhile, in the far corner of the room, Amir sighed, silently wishing Jean the best. Poor girl didn’t know what she was in for. His mind wandered back to his own wedding, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was hard not to compare the two experiences and feel a twinge of sympathy for her. At least you are way better than Ezra. A lot...no, perfect in his eyes. Always.

Once they retreated to their room, Ezra lifted Jean's veil with a cold, expressionless face, cutting her off before she could utter a word.

"There are some things you need to engrain in that skull of yours. First, always show respect for my sister. Always. You know that, don’t you? Secondly, try talking less and listening more."

"Got it! Now, where’s my wedding gift?" Jean’s cheerful interruption made Ezra’s jaw tighten, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smooth composure.

"No, you tell me first--who advised you to wear a harvest gold veil with such questionable embroidery? Huh? Such a poor fashion choice. I’ve explicitly told your family that gold is my color, I wear it. I don’t want to see you in it again." His fingers traced the material with a disdainful touch. "This abomination definitely needs fixing ." Though the veil was actually quite pretty, he couldn’t accept the fact that she looked good in it-- perhaps more than he did which is a big no.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Months later, the mansion, once quiet and dull, now echoed with the cries of a baby boy whom you named, Joseph. Ezra handed you the baby first which you were hesitant to hold but did anyway, after all you asked for this. It only lasted for a few minutes before he dozed off in Jean's arms.

"Jean," you said, gently patting her head. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, her eyes brightening with anticipation. You took the papers from Amir and handed them to her. "Here's a gift. A plot, in your name and another in dear Joseph's. You’ve earned it."

Jean’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. "Y-you didn’t have to, (Y/N)-"

"Jean," Ezra scolded gently, his tone surprising you. It seemed that your brother had softened a bit since Joseph’s birth.

"Don’t refuse (Y/N)'s gift. Accept it," he added. Jean nodded, her shyness evident, but her gratitude clear as she met your gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"Good, now rest. The nanny will arrive soon," you instructed, leaving with Amir in tow. Ezra shot a disapproving look at Amir as they exited.

"Don’t be rude to Brother Amir like that," Jean reprimanded.

"It’s none of your concern. Stop being his defender, anyway. Focus on the child, his upbringing must be perfect. And take care of yourself too--I don’t want you fainting while feeding him." With that, Ezra stormed out. Jean sighed, finding him as unpredictable as ever--hot one moment, cold the next.

The tragedy that struck when Joseph was just six months old was unexpected. The poor child fell gravely ill, and even the doctors couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with his stomach. But by some blessing, everyone's prayers were answered when Amir's remedy worked, one his mother used to give when they were sick as children and Joseph was saved. Had it been a moment later, who knows what could have happened. Even though Ezra didn't bother to thank Amir, it didn’t matter. Amir did it for you, for your child.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"You know, I think it's been a while since I married you," you murmured, lost in thought.

Amir looked up from his book and chuckled, "Oh, you realized it now? I think it's been more than a while, my dearest."

"I know, I know." You now stood where he was seated, gently caressing his cheek. "I think it's time you start doing your duty here." You handed him the seal, "You're in charge of the household's budget now." Amir's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but brother Ezra--"

"Shush," you interrupted. "I decide how things are run here. And I’m giving you this responsibility. Don’t disappoint me."

He nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Never, I won’t ever dream of it."

From within, his heart was bursting with happiness. At last, he had something--something he wanted, something he could use as leverage against Ezra. His plan had worked flawlessly. His hidden knowledge of botany had made it all possible; plants to make poison, plants to make antidote. A soft giggle escaped him and so did some tears, as you left the room, the seal twirling between his fingers.

Deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him as he saw the pain etched on everyone’s faces over Joseph. His own tears stung with remorse, but he believed it was a good plan--a necessary one to win your trust, your love. He hadn’t wanted to be so heartless, to poison his own child, but he felt he had no choice. Being Ezra’s doormat for so long had worn him down. And for once, watching Ezra in distress was so worth it. Amir couldn’t help but relish every moment.

(AN: OmG, Amir really turned dark, the poor innocent boi. Look how Ezra massacred my boy)