#My very first play through I did not anticipate liking him so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 10 months

Note

can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

2K notes · View notes

harlowhockeystick · 5 months

Text

LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name.

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either.

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity?

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though.

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car.

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away.

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early.

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son.

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby.

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her.

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day.

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs.

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this.

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members.

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her.

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like.

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?”

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it.

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision.

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.”

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind.

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well.

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore.

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good.

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while.

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud.

And he did.

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away.

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while.

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right.

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt.

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her.

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings.

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?”

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps.

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock.

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot.

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.”

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time.

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her.

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it.

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more.

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two.

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers.

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach.

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can.

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began.

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast.

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too.

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks.

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hwangism143 · 2 months

Text

love is embarrassing

synopsis: in which chan shows you that love is so much more than what you believe.

pairing: idol!chan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: jealousy, mentions of eating and rain, suggestive if you squint, small injuries, death of a pet

word count: 852 words

now playing: love is embarrassing - olivia rodrigo

requested: by @15092000volcano (have your own requests? find the prompt list here)

a/n: berry is very much alive, i just had to kill her off for plot purposes (pls don't kill me). also, lmk what you think of this fic!

"my god, love's embarrassing as hell"

You always believed the endeavor of love to be pointless. You had read the classics and watched the movies, distrust seeping into your being. How could love be worth it? How could love be worth death and sacrifice; how could it be worth endless pain and optionally putting oneself through torture?

It wasn't like love was helping pay the bills. Romeo and Juliet wasn't a tragedy due to romance in your eyes, it was a tragedy brought forth by lack of common sense, as simple as that.

That was when a young, elementary school you had finally come up with a hypothesis that would stick around with you longer than you anticipated: love is embarrassing.

And yet, you can never prove a hypothesis without putting it through a test. When you finally did, you realized that love is a startling multitude of other things.

Love is temperamental, like your mood the day you walked out of the movie after yet another rom com your friend had dragged you to watch. It's temperance mimicked that of the weather, rain beating down against the windows of the café that you were stuck in, where a handsome stranger was your lone companion.

"Hi," he said sweetly, "I'm Chan. Need some company?"

Love was ugly, like your tears that flowed down your cheeks and dampened Chan's favorite black hoodie (which you never understood the differentiation behind, a majority of his articles being black). It was ugly like the sweaters Chan had brought your first Christmas together, the same ones you wore when he purposefully dangled a mistletoe over where the two of you stood.

"Where did you even find mistletoe?" you questioned with a laugh.

"I have my sources. Stick around with me long enough and I'll promise to tell you." His lips were soon on yours, sealing the deal.

Love was disgusting, your siblings pretending to gag whenever Chan ran to you and scooped you up from behind, causing an eruption of giggles to emerge from your mouth. It was almost as disgusting as the ramen you once made, giving both of you food poisoning that was no less then unfound agony.

"There is no one else I would rather be vomiting with," Chan declared boldly, as he held your hair while you heaved the contents of your stomach onto the toilet.

Love was green, the way Chan felt after he watched you hit it off with Jisung and Changbin when he invited you to the studio, nearly forgetting about him. It's green like the lettuce you picked when you both went to the grocery store right after, deciding to confront his despaired pout.

"You're jealous."

"Am not!"

"You are jealous, and may I add, you're a terrible liar."

But love was so many things coated in happiness too, right? It wasn't just the bad parts, skipped over in the dictionary and considered as profanity. It was words that made you feel like your were flying in an abyss of harmony.

Love was soft, the way Chan's apologies sounded after an argument, always apologizing first instead of chastising you for your headstrong personality. It smoothed out rough edges, the way you ran your hair through Chan's hair while he fell asleep on your shoulder.

"I love you more than you ever know," he would mumble sleepily into your neck.

Love is healing, the way Chan was when you held him as he grieved over the loss of his childhood pet but slowly picked up the pieces of himself. The small cuts and bruises that you would get from simply doing nothing and the gentle press of a band aid against your skin and Chan tended to you almost instantaneously.

"It's just a tiny cut Chan," you whined.

"Aw come on, let me pamper you," he replied.

Love is comforting, like Chan's sweaters that you wore when you stepped out of the house, his essence melting into yours. It's comfort wove into the silence that hung around you both, never awkward or unwelcoming.

"Is it weird that my favorite sound is you, even when you're quiet?" Chan asked curiously.

"Never," you told him with a laugh.

Love was passionate, the way Chan felt about music and you felt about him. The same passion translated into wandering hands and soft gasps, stolen kisses and rumpled sheets.

"Thank you for loving me," you confessed as his limbs were tangled with yours.

"Thank you for letting me love you," he replied as easily as possible.

Love to you, was an anomaly. But loving Chan and being loved by him showed you that it was the most vivid, chaotic and marvelous tapestry that one could witness in their lifetime. Love was ugly, love was beautiful. Love was disgusting, love was comforting.

Love was damning. Love was everything.

However, you knew one fact about your love that would never change, despite how multifaceted it could be. That one fact was as sure as Chan's encouraging smiles that he sent your way and as steady as his breathing when he laid beside you at night.

Your love would always belong to him.

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#stray kids #skz #chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #- via's fics <3

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miguelsslvt · 10 months

Text

miguel o'hara x goth girl! spider! reader smut drabble

word count: 756

TW: nsfw, smut, overstimulation, y/n gets fucked dumb, creampie, fingering, spanish translated from google translate so it isn't very good i'm so sorry. and also it isn't exactly stated that y/n is 'goth', it's literally just heer style and i hate it sm that i write it like that i'm so sorry.

A/N: so basically i got requested to do a college au! goth girl x reader but i didn’t read the ‘college’ bit and i got a bit carried away so… here’s the shitty goth spider! reader whilst i try writing the college au!! anyways two posts in one night?? ahh! this is severely unedited and not even proofread, so i hope i did okay! i can always rewrite if you don't like it:). also i love doing requests so much, so pls give me more! welcome to the club! ^^

you were a smart girl. well, smart enough to notice the looks miguel gave you everytime you walked around spider society wearing your favourite black dress and fishnets. and you would be lying to yourself if you said the attention didn't make your legs tighten in anticipation.

you had your eyes on miguel since the first time you laid eyes on him when he recruited you. was it your everlasting hunger for male validation? maybe. was it the way his fingers flicked through tab to tab on his platform? most likely. was it the hunger you noticed in his eyes when he trailed his eyes along your figure? absolutely. that's why on the day you were supposed to come to miguel for 'monthly anomaly reports', you made sure to wear the short black skirt and fishnets you knew that would miguel drool. what? just because you were pretty didn't mean you were stupid.

after a beautiful walk around the graveyard near your home, placing some flowers on some empty graves, you decided to go back to the spider HQ, playing your favourite band, 'bauhaus'.

'spider goth. miguel would like you in his office.' your watch alarmed, as your smiled at lyla, nodding. before you walked into the office room, you made sure to fix your eyeliner so it didn't look too 'smoky' but smoky enough. you fixed your silver necklaces in place, as you walked in. 'yes miguel?'

fuck, that voice. miguel thought. he turned around slightly to take in your body. god, he could feel his dick twitch from just the sight of you. was it even normal to feel this way? 'sir? you seem a little.. distracted.' you said, tilting your head slightly. he smirked. if miguel was completely honest, he knew you knew how he felt about you. and the fact that you still continue to wear such provocative clothing around him, and the fact that you always give him that 'innocent' smile of yours was enough for him to know you enjoyed the attention.

'oh i think we both know why i'm distracted, spider goth-' 'y/n.' you cut him off. he seemed a bit taken aback. 'excuse me?' he asked. 'for you, it's y/n, sir.' you replied, walking up to his platform, your skirt riding up slightly as you sat on his desk.

god, he could take you right there. so he did.

✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩

'm-miguel!~' you moaned, eyes rolling back as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. your back was arched against the desk, as his hands held your hips roughly. your eyeliner and makeup was ruined, all over your cheeks as they were filled with tears. your fishnets were ruined, as your skirt was hitched up just above your ass, as miguel groaned in relief.

'god you don't know how long i've wanted this.. mi niña bonita~' he cooed, smirking as you gasped for air, holding onto the desk. (my pretty girl)

you had lost count on how many times miguel made you cum in just one hour, but right now you couldn't care. your legs were numb, mind was fuzzy and you could swear you were seeing stars. you fucked out dizzy expression urged miguel further, chasing both of your highs.

'g-god m-miguel g-gonna c-cum again..!' you moaned loudly, as miguel leaned closer to your ear, moving your jaw so he could see your dumb face.

you were drooling, crying, your hair and makeup was a mess. and mguel didn't think you could get any more prettier then this. god, and the way you clenched and gaped around him made him cum almost instantly. but he would wait. 'cum for me, that's it.. jodido tan tonto que ni siquiera puedes pensar, ¿verdad?' he teased, as he thrusts became sloppy once again. (fucked so dumb you can't even think, right?)

you reached you peak, letting out a loud gasp, as miguel held your jaw,his nose in your neck as he whispered to you. 'thaat's it.. that's my girl.. there you go..' he praised, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible as he let his load in you.

it was alot, as you came down from your high, panting for air. miguel groaned as he pulled out, leaving a string of his cum and your juices out. he just let a deep breath, tutting. 'ay.. no.. mi dulce chica.. you're supposed you keep it inside. looks like i'm gonna have to plug it back in.' miguel said, sticking his finger inside you, making you squeal in overstimulation. (my sweet girl)

'let's take care of the mess you made, yeah?' he cooed, as you nodded mindlessly. there was one thing miguel will never admit, though.

and that's miguel likes it messy.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

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calmcoldevening · 6 months

Note

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

#slashers x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms the doll #brahms heelshire x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #the leatherface #leatherface x reader #leatherface x you

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

Theirs*

Summary: The fourth part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has returned home after being away.

The first thing on his agenda?

Your punishment.

Word Count: 6.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Swallowing a huff, you straighten up from where you’re knelt on the bed. Your innocent doe-like eyes silently pleading with Harry to simply give in.

However, he merely crosses his arms and leans his tall body against the doorframe to the bedroom. “I know you’re getting ready to say something bratty, and I’m gonna tell you right now…don’t.”

You frown. “Har—”

“No.” His tone is cool but firm. His expression is unreadable. And despite the way you’ve attempted to present yourself to him, he remains unfazed.

He doesn’t allow himself to drink in your submissive stance. Or the revealing lingerie you’ve worn just to tease him. Or even the way you've kept your head bowed since the moment he walked in, just to tip the scales in your favor.

In fact, when he first came home and found you here, he’d simply cleared his throat and announced he was back.

And that he was ready for that talk.

You try again. “Har, I just—”

“What did I just say?” he reminds you, brow cocking upward. Your third warning. “I want you silent. You are not to speak until I allow you to do so. Is that understood?”

You push your lips into a wounded pout and nod once.

Pleased with your reaction, he rewards you with the softest of smiles. “S’a good girl. It’s my turn to talk right now. And your turn to listen. And I want you to listen very closely. Okay?”

Another nod.

He straightens up and takes a beat. He allows you to wonder. Allows you to anticipate what he might say.

Anticipate how much trouble you’re in.

“Do you understand why I ask you to do certain things?” he begins. “Do you understand…why I expect your obedience?”

You blink up at him, forcing a captivated expression so he knows you’re listening.

“Because there are only a few things in the world I cannot control,” he continues. “But you…I will always control you."

Your cheeks warm.

“I control your body,” he murmurs, pushing off the wall to step closer. “I control your pleasure…and I control your safety. I will always…control your safety.”

He reaches the edge of the mattress and takes your chin between his fingers. With a firm squeeze, he looks down, and your heart races inside your chest at his touch.

You haven’t felt it in days.

And it sets your entire body alight.

“I will always protect you, sweet girl,” he says, and despite the dominant edge, his vulnerability manages to slip through. “I will always take care of you. You…are my number one priority. Whether I’m here or there. And I need you to know that.”

His thumb brushes down your bottom lip, and he plays with it as he gazes at you. In a way so loving, and so devoted…you feel yourself clench.

“I expect your obedience because it’s the only way I can know I’m keeping you safe,” he whispers. “That I’m keeping you cared for. That you’re okay even if I’m not here. So when you go against my direct instructions…it scares me. And do you want to scare me, mama?”

Your head shakes quickly as a whimper gets caught in your throat.

“No. I didn’t think so,” he just about coos, smiling softly. “So you understand why I have to punish you now?”

Your lashes flutter like butterfly wings and you nod, practically reeling as your thighs squeeze a bit tighter together.

“Good,” he hums proudly, hand dropping from your face. You just about pout. “And you’ll take it, won’t you? Take it like the good girl I know you are. Until you learn…not to do it again.”

You nod again, fingers curling into your palm as you resist the urge to reach for him. You understand why he’s doing this. And you appreciate it more than that. This is one of your favorite scenes with him and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

But…you also wish you could hug him. At least greet him properly and welcome him back before jumping into everything else. Kiss him tenderly and tell him how much you missed him. How happy you are that he’s safe.

That he’s come home.

You imagine this is why he’s refusing to let you do just that. He has to know how much you want it and is instead using this cold, distant demeanor to aid in your punishment.

It’s rather smart.

Pleased with your response, he smirks. “I know you will. Gonna be so good for both of us, aren’t you?”

Both.

Your eyes widen while the flip in your stomach turns into a full-blown circus as you look up at him.

However, he merely glances over his shoulder toward the hallway. “Grab her.”

You don’t have the chance to fully process his instruction before Asher is slipping out of the shadows and making his way into the room.

You thought he’d left after Harry got home but you suppose it makes sense why he didn’t.

And you aren’t about to complain.

You watch him stride toward the bed, and he shoots you that gentle and playful grin of his as he begins to crawl behind you on the mattress.

Your breathing becomes rather sporadic as he loops his hands under your arms and guides you onto his lap. Then, he turns you around until your face is buried in the duvet and your ass is in the air.

And he keeps you there, strewn across his legs, and vulnerable to Harry’s hungry eyes as the room falls silent.

You hear the sound of a belt. The familiar but chilling clanging of metal and brushing of fabric as it’s pulled from Harry’s body.

And you know what happens next.

“You ready, sweetheart?” you hear Asher whisper, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear as he dips down.

You shiver, whining slightly as you nod.

You don’t see him, but you hear Harry slowly walk around the edge of the bed. He’s trying to tease you. Make you squirm. And it works because you’ve never felt so needy and pathetic in your life.

Rough fingers find your skin. Dancing up the backs of your legs and toward the cheap, skimpy thong around your hips.

You’d hoped him seeing you in such suggestive clothing would lighten his mood.

Apparently…you were wrong.

But it seems to still be working in your favor as Harry’s large palm smooths over your ass in an almost tender fashion. It’s warm, and slow, and tantalizing. The simplest of touches and yet…with him? It’s everything.

You relax at the feel, mewling thankfully at the relief you find in his touch.

This makes him chuckle under his breath. “Miss me that much, mama?”

You nod quickly, eyes squeezing shut as he moves for the material disappearing between your cheeks.

“Wrapped yourself up all nice and pretty for me, hm?” he continues before he finds the ribbon of your corset and begins tugging it playfully. “Are you my welcome home present, sugar?”

You whimper.

“You are,” he decides in a gentle purr. “And you do look so pretty. Doesn’t she?”

“Very,” Asher says, and you feel him slide his hand across your back so he can hook it onto your hip and keep you cemented to his thighs.

You’re almost thankful you can’t see them. Their voices alone are about to ruin you and you know their faces absolutely would.

“Tell me, sweet girl…” Harry calls before his finger wraps around the thong and he guides it away from your body, “…did you think this would work? Think I’d forget about your punishment just because you got all dolled up?”

Yes. “Mm-mm,” you mumble quietly, head shaking as you try to obey his rule about staying silent.

“No?” His grip on the fabric gets tighter as he continues to pull. “Then you wore this for yourself? Or for Asher?”

You resist the temptation grind against Asher’s leg as you exhale shakily.

“Speak,” Harry commands, and you glance to the side.

“Wore it for you,” you admit sheepishly to the two men awaiting your reply. “Wasn’t trying to be sneaky…just missed you and wanted to do something to show you that.”

He considers this for a very brief moment. “Are you being honest with me?”

Your lashes flutter and the silence in the room is deafening. “…no.”

You can practically hear them smirk to themselves as Harry hisses, “Didn’t fucking think so.”

With that, he snaps the panties off, forcing you to gasp as you squirm from the sudden force.

God, you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could watch the muscles in his throat constrict from the anger you’re sure he’s trying hard to tame.

He’s always beautiful, but perhaps he's the most beautiful when he’s outraged. And every feature on his face is twisted into a malicious sneer as he inflicts his displeasure on anyone unlucky enough to witness it.

Maybe this is why you enjoy your punishments so much. Because his pain is always worth it.

The leather of his belt slides down your cheeks before traveling along your leg. He’s warning you. Giving you a moment to prepare. Something that almost seems thoughtful, but you know is only intended to worsen your apprehension.

And it works beautifully.

“What are you gonna do?” he asks as he continues gliding the material across your backside.

“I’m…I’m gonna count,” you recite in a small voice. “And…apologize.”

“That’s right,” he agrees. “And who…are you going to apologize to?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply before you think his question all the way through.

“Both of you,” you finally answer, and he hums.

“Good.” He pulls the belt away from you. “I think eleven strikes should suffice. Three…for each day you disobeyed me. Three…for each day you disobeyed him. Four…for the fact that you thought you could get away with it by wearing this…”

He falls silent, and your thighs clench.

“And an extra…” he murmurs, “…because Asher deserves to see how pretty you look when you cry.”

Your eyes just about roll back and before you have the chance to feel thrilled…the belt cracks through the air and lands on your ass.

The sharp contact makes you jolt as you choke on a whine and lurch forward.

And the subtle sting is quick to trickle beneath your skin as he leans back, and you can't help sighing contently.

God, you've missed this.

“One,” you whisper, eyes locking onto the wall across from you. “I’m sorry.”

Another strike.

“Two.” Your fingers curl around the duvet as you steel yourself. “I’m sorry.”

Another strike.

With each additional whip of his belt against your skin, you’re forced into the light of pain and pleasure.

He gives you about fifteen seconds between each one. He wants you to feel it. Wants you to pray for it to be over.

And you do want it to be over. Only because that means he’ll finally be through with your punishment, and he’ll actually touch you. Hold you, kiss you, be with you in the way he hasn’t since he left.

You continue counting down, and as you do, the pain begins to linger. Not just from the spanking, but from the way your clit viciously grazes Asher’s leg whenever you jerk forward. And you try not to squirm, you really do, but the emptiness you feel between your thighs overwhelms you.

You’re sure Harry can tell. You’re sure Asher can tell. And he attempts to help you by squeezing your hip as you whimper from the forceful contact and apologize for the fifth time.

And then…everything changes.

Harry’s aim lowers and the firm leather meets the place where your thigh and butt connect. It lands there, right across the dip with a loud smack, and your ears start to ring.

You gasp louder than you have before. It’s hard, and it hurts, and the tears instantly pool in your eyes.

Your voice shakes as you say, “Six…I’m…I’m sorry.”

Harry pauses, and you assume he’s assessing your reaction before he does it again. Right in the same spot.

You yelp as your lip quivers, and the water begins to run freely down your cheeks.

God, it hurts. He always makes sure to make it hurt, and you have to appreciate him for it. After all, he promised punishment.

This is it.

“Seven,” you just about sob, your knuckles going white from how hard you’ve begun to grip the blanket. “I’m…I’m…”

You can’t get the word out. Can’t seem to force the syllables from your tongue as Harry tsks disapprovingly.

“Come on, sugar,” he tuts. “You were doing so good. Don’t make Daddy angry now.”

Your head shakes quickly as your eyes squeeze shut. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

He makes another noise, this time of appreciation before you hear the belt cut through the air.

Again lands the strike to the same abused spot, and you cry out as you seize up, writhing over Asher’s lap.

You feel Asher’s hand leave your hip before it’s suddenly ghosting across your face. His fingers quickly slip under your chin, and you sniffle as he guides your head toward him.

You can see the hesitation in his expression as he studies you, his thumb brushing across your soaked cheek as he looks back to Harry.

“Boss…” he calls quietly, almost as if in warning.

But Harry simply clicks his tongue. “No, she’s fine. She can take it. She’ll take it. Know she will. Gonna be our good girl.”

You attempt to nod, despite Asher’s hold, and when you hear Harry get ready to go again, your features twist into an apprehensive wince.

Asher frowns.

The belt slaps across your skin as you whimper and brace yourself against Asher’s body, almost as if trying to escape.

In turn, he tightens his hold as you cry a bit harder and nuzzle your face into his arm in an attempt to catch your breath.

“Count, mama,” Harry reminds you, and you swallow a pitiful whine as you begin blubbering the number.

“Har,” Asher tries again, interrupting your apology.

“She’s all right. And she’s gonna count. Just like I asked,” Harry replies, and you hear him run the leather through his hand.

Your bottom burns from the harsh whips, and despite how hard you’re trying to obey, your body seems to have other plans.

You’re overstimulated. Emotionally, physically, mentally. The pain from the spanking, the pain from the grinding against your cunt, the pain from knowing Harry’s keeping himself from you.

And you know he loves this. Know he loves to watch you weep for him. Because of him. After all, these are the only tears of yours he permits.

If you cry for any other reason outside of his attempts to pleasure you…all hell breaks loose.

So you allow yourself to cry. You allow yourself to get even further worked up as the tears pour, exactly the way he loves.

You sniffle once more as you stutter out the apology and curl yourself as close to Asher as you can, completely settling into the submissive roll.

To this, Harry hums before you hear him ready the next crack of his belt.

Your muscles instantly recoil when you hear the way it slices through the air, face scrunching up as you prepare for the contact.

Then, suddenly…something changes in Asher’s touch.

“Harry,” he snaps loudly, in a tone you’re sure you’ve never heard him use before.

The strike never comes.

The room falls silent.

Your soft sobs begin to subside.

You hear something hit the floor, and you wonder for only a moment what it was before a pair of hands are gripping onto your waist and gently turning you around.

You’re pulled from Asher’s lap as Harry scoops you into his arms, one palm coming up to cup your cheek to guide your attention to him.

“Okay, all right,” he murmurs softly. Soothingly. “It’s okay. Do you need to use your safe word?”

You take a minute to find your voice, frowning some as your bottom continues to radiate heat and soreness from the way you’ve been sat on it.

But Harry doesn’t rush you. He keeps you secure against his body, eyes soft and words comforting.

After a moment, you swipe your fingers through the stains on your face and shake your head. “No. No, I don't need to use it.”

“Are you sure?” Harry’s voice is stern but full of compassion. “Mama, you know I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” you whisper, offering a small smile. “You didn’t. I mean…not in a bad way.”

His eyebrows pull together, almost in disbelief. “Are you being honest with me?”

“Yes,” you say truthfully. “I promise. I don’t need to use it. I’m okay. You know I always take it for you.”

It’s his turn to smile, and he does so with a quiet chuckle. “I know, sweet girl. But what did I say? You always come first. And I won’t tolerate you allowing me to hurt you past what we’ve agreed on. I would never forgive myself.”

“I know,” you echo, leaning closer to brush your nose against his. He sighs gratefully as his lashes flutter. “I promise. I don’t need to use it. I’m okay. You’d never hurt me. I promise.”

For a moment, he simply internalizes this vow. Allows you to snuggle into his chest as he wraps himself around you and helps you calm down.

The two of you have only ever struggled with something like this once before.

You had slipped into your subspace after a particularly overstimulating session. Harry was intent on working out some of his frustration with you and you had been more than happy to oblige.

But soon, he lost himself in the punishment. In the way your body bent to his will. And you were too far gone to stop him. Unable to use your safe word despite the fact that you might have needed to. You just wanted to make him happy. So you allowed him to continue and didn't give it a second thought.

Once the activities had ended and you pulled yourself from the submissive state, you told him. Told him what you had almost told him before you floated away.

And it fucking ruined him.

He was guilt-stricken. He’d sunk to his knees and begged for your forgiveness. The first time he'd ever gotten onto his knees for you outside of sex. He kissed your hands, and hips, and stomach as he whispered his remorse into your skin. As he pleaded with you to allow him to make it better.

And you held no ill-thoughts or feelings. It certainly wasn't his fault. He had absolutely no way of knowing and you know he'd never do it on purpose.

But things changed after that. Agreements and understandings were made. Harry knows your limits and rules just as you know his. He keeps a close eye on you. Always. Looking for any signs that you're depleting yourself for his pleasure.

Thankfully, today this is not the case.

Today…this is everything you want.

When you’ve finally managed to relax your muscles, you lean back, and Harry smirks before running his thumb under your eye.

“My precious girl,” he whispers, and your skin warms. “Told you you’re beautiful when you cry.”

You glance down at your lap as you grin before your attention drifts to the left, where Asher still waits.

His expression is hard and filled with concern. It’s a look you’ve seen before, but only ever in the context of their work.

Today, this is a direct result of what happened only moments ago, and your heart aches when you see how worried he looks.

“You’re okay?” he repeats, and the sound of his voice is rather coarse as he looks between you.

“I’m okay,” you repeat as Harry’s hand drops back down to your hip. “Promise. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His lips purse. He seems to be struggling to vocalize his unease and you shift in Harry’s lap so you can fully face the man beside you.

“I’ve never seen you get that angry with her before,” he tells his boss, and Harry nods. “Never seen her cry like that before. Felt…felt wrong to see her in that kind of pain and not do something.”

You feel a rush of adoration for your protector as Harry hums his understanding and squeezes your waist.

“I know,” Harry agrees. “I should have warned you earlier. But I’m glad your first instinct is to protect her. Even from me.”

Asher’s eyes fall to his hands.

You frown. “It’s okay,” you murmur again, crawling a bit closer. “This is just…what we do. It’s what we agreed on. We have a safe word and a system in place so I can always communicate with him.”

And while you’d hoped this would help, it seems as though it does absolutely nothing to comfort him as you settle onto your knees in front of his legs.

He keeps his focus down, almost as if punishing himself, so you slip your fingers beneath his jaw to guide his face to yours. Exactly like he had done to you earlier.

When you finally see him, you feel gutted by the weary pull of his expression.

“Ash,” you murmur, and he chews on the inside of his lip. “I’m okay. I like it when he makes me cry. Like it when he hurts me.”

You imagine he’ll be a little put off by such an admission, and for a moment, he simply blinks at you.

And then…his gaze darkens, and his teeth scrape together. Almost as if restraining himself from thinking about it.

You smirk to yourself. His reaction is quite telling, and you swallow a chuckle as you turn to glance over your shoulder at Harry.

He seems to be thinking the same thing you are, and he grins smugly before nodding his chin at you.

With this permission, you scoot a bit closer to Asher and tighten your hold on his cheeks.

“I’m okay,” you whisper again, and he releases a deep breath. “More than okay.”

He relaxes in your hold, and you use this as encouragement to move in. Your lips ghost down his neck. Hovering over a prominent vein before they finally make contact, and you feel him stiffen.

You press your mouth to his skin, and you can feel the pounding of his pulse as you linger there. As you let him realize what you’re doing.

Your kisses travel down. Soft and slow and rather innocent.

“I’m okay,” you repeat quietly between each one. “So okay.”

You’re simultaneously calming him down and working him up. You can feel the way he begins to unwind, subtly leaning into you as you let one hand travel to his chest.

It’s strong. Broad. Firm. Even through his dark t-shirt, you can feel the quick breaths he’s taking. The way he’s beginning to succumb to your intentions.

You smile.

He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t rush you. He lets you explore whatever you’d like as you scratch down his pecs and lick just below his jaw.

It makes him shiver and you feel rather proud of the way you can ease his upset through such a simple touch.

Then, Harry clears his throat, and calls you back, forcing you to break away from the right-hand man.

Asher’s expression is hazy when you finally see it. Lashes fluttering as he swallows a sigh, and you offer a soft grin before turning back to your boyfriend.

“You like taking care of him, don’t you, mama?” Harry murmurs, hand coming out to smooth up your thigh.

You nod bashfully.

“Mm. I know,” he coos, hooking his fingers under your knees to help guide you back onto your ass. “But we’re not done with your punishment, are we?”

Your head shakes.

“No,” he agrees, glancing behind you toward Asher. “And I don’t think we’ve quite forgiven you yet.”

Asher clears his throat and slips his fingers around your upper arms to tug you down until your back meets the mattress.

Your head is laid between his thighs as Harry crawls down your legs, slowly pulling them apart so he can settle there.

And you know exactly what happens next. Know exactly what Harry expects of you, and there’s a catch in your throat as you glance up toward Asher.

In turn, he looks down at you with his familiar, teasing smile before brushing his knuckles across your cheek. “Say your prayers, sweetheart.”

The muscles in your stomach quiver beneath your corset at the salacious tone of voice just as Harry is lifting your hips and bringing you to his mouth.

You stumble over a moan and your eyes roll back as your nails scratch down the blanket beneath you. He’s wasting no time, instantly nipping and licking at your cunt as if he’s been deprived of it for weeks.

And for the two of you, three days feels about the same.

It’s all a blur from here. You can’t focus on anything else but him.

Them.

The way your boyfriend groans into your pussy as he licks you clean while his right-hand man keeps you glued to the bed.

And every time you squirm, Harry leans back to smack his hand against your clit, forcing you to cry out as you writhe away.

But Asher is there to make sure you don’t get very far, instantly bringing his hand to your jaw as he tuts, “Uh-uh.”

You’re already so worked up that it only takes a couple more minutes of sucking and teasing for you to reach your first orgasm.

And it’s everything. Overpowering and complete, despite the fact that what you really want…Harry hasn’t given you yet.

You hope he does. Hope he fucks you into oblivion but something tells you…that’s not in the cards tonight.

Once you manage to blink the stars from your eyes, Harry glances up at you, and you flush when you see the mess on his chin.

“Say it,” he hisses, curling his hands around your hips in warning.

You swallow and work to find your voice. “One…I’m sorry.”

“Good,” he growls before bringing two fingers closer. “Again.”

He slips in without warning, pumping himself through just to shove you back up the precipice of pleasure.

And it works. It so fucking works. You arch off the bed and struggle in his hold as you whisper his name.

He curls when he knows you can’t take it anymore. Strokes and thrusts and sucks on your clit until your muscles begin to ache. Until the tears have returned and the pain has slipped in beside the euphoric bliss.

The coil shatters moments later and Harry slaps his hand down your cunt when you come without warning him first.

“Two,” you blubber, throwing your arms over your face to hide. “I’m sorry.”

“Again,” he orders, even though he gives you no choice in the matter before diving back in.

And it hurts.

It hurts exactly the way you both love. You’re raw and sore and so overly sensitive but you revel in it as you cry once more. As you gasp for air and drag your nails down Asher’s thighs to ground yourself.

You hear him chuckle before he takes hold of your wrists and tugs them above your head.

Now, you really have no choice but to take it.

Harry adds a third finger, and the stretch makes you buck up. He responds to this disobedience by pinching your clit until you just about scream from the agonizing sensation.

But it pushes you into your third and you barely stammer out the number and apology before he’s slipping in a fourth finger and flattening his tongue against you.

And the sounds he makes. The sounds you make for him. The sounds of everything.

But then he spits, and you decide then that you’re never going to disobey him again.

You try to keep your eyes open but it’s so hard. So hard to do anything else but think of the feeling in your belly. Between your thighs. In your head.

It’s only when Asher reaches out to brush his thumb down your lip that you peer up.

“There she is,” he murmurs, and you whimper at the salty taste of his finger. “So sweet when you apologize.”

You’d likely respond if you could but you’re coming for the fourth time before you quite get the chance.

Now, it’s harder to catch your breath. Chest heaving and body trembling as Harry’s incessant teasing begins to slow.

“Four,” you finally sough through gentle sobs and hiccups. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Harry eases himself out, quickly lifting to his knees so he can crawl up the length of your body and bring his face to yours.

He dips down and kisses you. Slow and gentle. A stark contrast to his previous forcefulness and you instantly melt beneath his mouth.

God, the way he tastes. His tongue is coated with your arousal and he shares this delicacy without a second thought. He pushes each drop into your mouth before his fingers find your throat, and curl around the delicate base.

His pointed squeeze tells you to swallow, so you do. And you’d swallow everything he ever gave you if that’s what he wanted.

But soon, he stops. He knows you’ve slipped away from him and after he takes his lips from you, he snakes an arm under your back and pulls you up.

His movements are tender. He doesn’t want to startle you or hurt you. He just wants to hold you as you swim through the haze of your submissive headspace.

But keeping his kisses from you feels like the cruelest thing he’s done all day. He must still be upset. You must not have done a good enough job. He must have wanted you to keep going but you didn’t and now he’s sad and hurt.

“M’sorry,” you mumble again, nuzzling your face into his neck the moment you’re sat upright. You can’t look at him. Don’t want to see the disappointment. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he interrupts in a quiet but authoritative hush. “No more of that. You’re okay. Did so fucking good, mama. I’m so proud of you.”

You whimper as you curl into his chest, already half-asleep from the overexertion.

But he keeps speaking to you, lips pressing into your hair as he hums his approval. “Took your punishment so well for us,” he says. “Knew you could.”

His fingers rub against your hip before he moves to the corset. He pops the buttons free and undoes the ribbon until he can pull it from your body.

Now you can breathe a bit better, and the cool air feels good against the sticky sweat coating your stomach.

This is the first time you’ve been truly naked in front of both men, but you don’t have the mental awareness to care right now.

Instead, you cling yourself to Harry’s body as he chuckles and runs his palm up and down your bare spine.

When the throbbing in your cunt has begun to subside, you hesitantly peek out from where you’ve hidden yourself in Harry’s collarbone to look between them.

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, lips already trembling as you ask, “…forgive me?”

Asher and Harry exchange a certain look you can’t read before Harry mumbles, “I forgive you, sweet girl.”

You smile brightly with this before looking to the second man.

He’s fighting a chuckle. “I forgive you, too, sweetheart.”

And you’re so thrilled. So happy to have made them happy that you hum contently and squeeze Harry’s hand in yours.

But this tender moment doesn’t last as long as you’d like before Harry is shifting you from his lap and back into Asher’s.

And after passing you off to his right-hand man, he disappears from the bed altogether, leaving you to watch him go with a curious look.

To help ease your confusion, Asher wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you into his chest.

“He’s gonna come back,” he tells you, tucking his chin just over your shoulder. “Gonna hold you till he is, okay?”

You nod quickly and nestle into his embrace.

And Harry does in fact return about a minute later, a washcloth in his hand.

There isn’t really much to clean up, but the warm compress always helps soothe those lingering twinges of pain.

So, he moves onto his stomach as Asher reaches down to pry your thighs apart and make room.

With an abundance of caution and adoration, Harry brings the towel to your swollen pussy, softly stroking the sensitive region.

He goes over your thighs, your stomach, your clit. He doesn’t rub or pull, and anytime you grimace, he stops.

But the warm water helps relax you even further until you eventually sigh as you unwind between Asher’s arms.

And Asher smiles against your temple.

When Harry’s through, he makes a trade. He hands the cloth to Asher while Asher hands you to him.

And once you’re back in Harry’s possession, Asher returns to the bathroom to discard of the towel and grab some lotion.

He then brings it to Harry as Harry gingerly guides you onto your stomach so he can begin.

The next few minutes are quiet but filled with love.

The soothing lotion is massaged over your backside as the sting from the spanking slowly dissipates.

You’re happy he’s not dragging you into the shower like he normally does. Not that you don’t enjoy the soft, lazy kisses under the water as he runs a loofa down your body.

But right now…all you really want is to get under the covers and fall asleep on his chest.

You want to welcome him home.

And a part of you is upset by the way you haven’t been able to show him how much you really missed him. Get a taste for yourself. Take him down your throat as he groans and gives you everything.

But you suppose this is part of your punishment. There will be other times for that.

Today…you had some repenting to do.

Once Harry is through, he flips you back around and kisses you. He tells you everything words never could. He paints his infatuation with you across your tongue and you couldn’t be happier.

After laying down beside you and pulling you into his chest, his fingers stroke delicately through your hair. Effectively lulling you into a blissful reverie.

“Want to talk to you about something, mama,” he mumbles quietly as you roll your head back to look at him. “Would that be okay?”

You nod.

“Both of you…actually,” he corrects before glancing toward Asher, who’s leaned against the wall watching. “Figured now might be a good time.”

Asher’s brow raises.

“You know…” Harry begins, returning his attention to you, “…that all we want to do is protect you and keep you safe…yeah?”

You nod again.

“And you know…we’d do anything for you,” he continues, pressing his palm to your cheek as he cups it lovingly. “Do anything to make you happy. Make you feel good. Yeah?”

Your answer is to turn your face and press your lips into his hand as he smiles.

“Good,” he whispers, stealing another curious glance at Asher. “Then I want to know…if you’ll let us do that. If you’ll let us make you feel good. In a way we maybe haven’t before.”

It takes a moment for you to realize what he means, but once the insinuation finds you, your breath hitches.

“Don’t have to answer right away,” he tells you calmly. “I know I’m asking a lot, sugar. And you know I don’t like to share you.”

A quiet moment passes as he leans down to place a kiss to your forehead.

“But I’ll share you with him,” he whispers. “Because I know he’d take care of you, too. And you’d take care of him, wouldn’t you?”

You nod quickly, heart hammering inside your chest.

“I know,” he smiles. “But you can say no, honey. You can always say no. I just think…you deserve to have all your little holes filled. Deserve to feel so fucking good. In every way you can. And I think that…is worth sharing you for.”

Your nails begin to scratch down his shirt as the image appears like a mural inside of your mind. Already, you can feel yourself clench from the very idea of being filled by them. From the idea of both their hands, and lips, and voices. The idea of getting to touch them, and be with them, and take them.

“And I know how much he wants to,” Harry adds, tossing a rather sadistic smirk across the room at his friend. “He’s told me before that he’d do anything you asked him to. Do fucking anything to feel you.”

Your eyes widen.

“S’that still true?” Harry asks his partner, and you can hear the taunt within the question.

Asher clears his throat quietly and straightens up, seemingly a little hesitant. “…yes.”

Harry chuckles before returning his attention to you. “So, I want you to think about it, okay? No right or wrong answer, sweet girl. Whatever you’re comfortable with, we’ll—”

“Okay.”

He pauses. “Okay?”

You tug your lip between your teeth and nod fervently. “Okay. Yes, I…I want to. I’ll…whatever you want. Do it. I’ll do it.”

He breaks out into a large grin. “Oh, that’s our fucking girl,” he just about growls before surging forward to kiss you.

And you bask under his praise. Under the possessive title you wear proudly.

You love to be his.

And you will always be theirs.

One more part🥹😭

Next Part:

~ Hers* (Final Part)

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~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (4)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, smut, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That evening she could not sleep; she felt anxious, felt that danger lurked all around her, the darkness in her chamber full of chill and tension. She pressed her lips together lying under the thick furs, recalling for the hundredth time the expression on her uncle's face when he recognised her.

Terror, disbelief, rage, disgust.

She knew that she would be facing him in the throne room the next day anyway, that they would be forced to remind each other of their existence.

She sighed quietly, wondering if her letters had reached him at all.

What if his grandfather or his mother simply did not deliver them to him?

What if his rage was because he thought she had abandoned him?

She felt a quick pounding of her heart, a naïve hope, anything she could grab onto in a situation that seemed to her to have no way out.

She thought she had to visit him, she had to see him, speak to him, end this once and for all, explain to him how she felt, how sorry she was that it had all happened this way.

Just like when she was a child, she slipped out of her chamber, walking ahead in the torchlight. She remembered what time the guards on watch at his quarters exchanged and took the opportunity, with her heart pounding fast, to knock on his door.

She swallowed loudly, horrified to hear the cold, sure, rough come in and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She turned and saw his silhouette sitting by the fire, in his hand the dagger he was skilfully playing with between his fingers, his gaze fixed on her, his eye wide open as if he was anticipating this visit.

She didn't know what she should say, where to begin.

She wasn't sure if she was trembling so much from the cold or from fear.

She tried to repeat to herself that even though he looked different, the same man was sitting in front of her, the one who had stroked her hair all night as a child, soothing her this way when she couldn't fall asleep.

Grasping at these memories she finally choked out what she had come for.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in trembling voice, trying to sound soft and calm, to be the opposite of his aggressive attitude, to make him understand that she was coming in peace.

She shuddered when she saw the dangerous glint in his eye, the dagger in his hand spun around its own axis and curled between his fingers again, an involuntary grimace appeared on his face that resembled a smile but showed that he was furious.

"Yes." He answered finally, and she drew in a loud breath, analysing his answer quickly in her head.

He had received her letters, all of them.

She could see it in his face.

Did he despise them? Did he throw them away? Did he burn them?

"Have you read them?" She asked, wrinkling her eyebrows in helplessness, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of her life.

She saw him settle more comfortably in his chair, lifting his chin high as he stabbed the blade of his knife into the armrest, running it over it, making shivers run through her.

She had the feeling that he had just imagined himself ripping her flesh this way.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He muttered, and she felt a jolt of heat, of disbelief, of both humiliation and desire at the same time, because here he was, just admitting that he'd read her letters more than once, yet he'd never written her back.

She thought it was all a punishment he was inflicting on her – even though he wanted her words, his reply would have shown that he had forgiven her, that he was seeking reconciliation, that he was weak.

It all suddenly became so clear to her that she felt lighter, understanding that there was no moment in which she could do anything more to change his mind, that exactly what was supposed to happen had happened.

She looked around his chamber and moved ahead, noticing that where there had been a small cupboard of books now stood three large, tall, oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick tomes.

"Does your mother-whore know you're here?" She heard his cold, indifferent voice and pressed her lips together at the thought that he was doing it on purpose, that he was aware of what would hurt her, that he knew her too well.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when she spotted the familiar name of the philosopher among his collection and stepped closer, pulling out the book she had borrowed from him when she dared to kiss him for the first time.

"My, as you put it, mother-whore, never knew when I visited you, uncle. I was very determined not to be caught." She said lowly, in a way tired of the fact that she seemed to be speaking to stone, a cold marble to which nothing could reach.

She heard him snort, clearly displeased that his question did not elicit the effect he would have expected from her.

"Do you often visit men like this?" He asked perfunctorily, as if there was an answer in his question, as if it was obvious that she was not waiting for him.

Something in the way he said it, in the superiority in his voice made her feel rage; she moved towards his chair and stood in front of him, looking at him with furrowed brows.

Who was he to speak to her this way?

She saw that he lifted his gaze to her, surprised, apparently completely not expecting her to dare come so close to him, the hand with his dagger froze in mid-motion.

"Have you no shame?" She asked with regret and disapproval. She saw that his nostrils quivered dangerously, his healthy eye turned black, his lips pressed into a thin line.

She knew he was about to say something, something that would make her hate him, make her unable to look at him, and she decided that she would be the first to express her opinion, her suffering.

"I don't know who you are, the man who sits now before me, but if there is even a fragment of the boy I was meant to marry in you, let that boy know that he was and will be the only one in my heart. He was my beloved friend and I failed him. It is hard to live with the thought that someone you loved so deeply has died in a way, but there is neither a grave to pray over nor any hope of peace for his soul. What I fear is that the boy I knew has disappeared among the darkness and is dying in it every day."

She muttered, and although she tried to hold them back, tears of helplessness and despair ran down her cheeks as the last sentence left her lips.

She had lost him, lost him forever, this boy who had soothed her fears, who she had looked up to with such pride and joy, who would never speak to her as this man did now.

It seemed to her that she had put him into a state of complete shock, as he looked at her with his mouth parted, his healthy eye wide open – he was breathing faster, completely frozen, as if he didn't know what to make of her words.

She couldn't believe how much he had changed, his white hair long and beautiful, partly tied back, his scar pale, hidden under a black eye patch, his jaw even more sharply defined, his chin pointed, his healthy eye gleamed in the firelight, his leather tunic and breeches framing his well-built body.

He was a handsome man.

She thought about Daemon's words, about how it was better to rip her heart out than to humiliate herself, but she thought she was unable to do that.

That she needed to feel his closeness this one last time.

It seemed to her that her body threw itself towards him on its own, climbing into his lap, pressing her face and hands against his tunic, his familiar warmth, his scent filled her nostrils.

She heard his dagger slide out of his hand straight onto the stone floor with the loud clang of steel.

For some reason, her body relaxed completely and she burst into sobs, as if those years of suffering and separation had poured out of her like a river; she began to babble and apologise to this little boy who certainly felt alone, who couldn't cope with what had happened and with what he had lost.

She shuddered and hopped up, feeling something hard throb between her thighs, then again and again – she looked at him in disbelief, his gaze terrified, his breath heavy.

She thought she was going to hear him say that she should leave, that she was humiliating herself, that he didn't want to know her, that she was pathetic, but he just stared at her, apparently unable to get a word out.

She looked at his lips – they seemed even fuller and softer to her than they were then and she wondered if they would be as pleasurable if she touched them.

Just this once.

"– can I kiss you? –" She asked so quietly that she herself barely heard the words leave her lips. She saw his pupil narrow, his nostrils twitching restlessly.

She felt a throbbing inside her, as well as in his breeches beneath her when he leaned in slightly, exactly as he had done then, wordlessly involuntarily betraying his will and she threw her hands over his shoulders, pressing her warm, thirsty lips to his in a sweet, loud kiss.

It seemed to her that their bodies were moving on their own, his hips rubbing his twitching erection against her from underneath making her feel something like warm tickling between her thighs.

One, slow, tentative kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth, his hands suddenly on her body, clamping down on her hips and neck as if he wanted to make sure she didn't leave his side.

She shuddered, looking down at him with slightly parted lips, suppressing a moan when she felt his free hand slip shamelessly under the material of her nightgown and clamp down on her naked buttock, rubbing his hardness against her hidden womanhood with slow, uncertain rocking of his hips.

No one had ever touched her like this before, and she wondered if this was his first time, or if perhaps he had already tasted another woman's body, sinking inside the ladies of the court or the servants.

She felt an overpowering jealousy and pain at the thought, at the thought that he might have desired and taken another, and she thought that this night he would desire only her.

That she would spend the night with him and then leave, surrendering her fate to destiny.

"− uncle −" She mumbled, responding with movements of her hips to his treatments, feeling her insides begin to swell once she had decided what was going to happen.

He waved his hand into her hair and kissed her, greedily, aggressively, quickly, his slick tongue forced it's way deep into her throat.

It had nothing to do with what they had done as children – now their lips teased each other with a loud click of their saliva, his tongue trailing over her palate, licking her encouragingly, inviting her to let their tips touch.

They licked each other like this, panting and moaning into each other's mouths – she let him push her hips closer to him, rubbing his hard cock against her with increasingly intrusive, shameless movements as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his body.

Gods, he wanted this.

She shuddered when she felt his hand pull at the ties of her nightgown, in slow, gentle movement slipping it off her shoulders. He pulled away, panting loudly, to look at the sight of her bare chest, her plump little breasts; she gasped quietly and trembled when his fingers timidly run and squeezed one of them.

She felt something sticky run down her thighs onto the material of his breeches, felt the moisture between her legs.

"− uh − it tickles − here −" She mumbled helplessly, stroking his jaw with her thumb, not knowing completely what she should do next, somehow asking him to spare her the humiliation and take the initiative. She shuddered as his fingers ran over her lust-swollen, puffy lips.

"− it's understandable − you missed your uncle − hm? −" He asked softly, tenderly, startling her completely – she felt the muscles inside her clench around nothing at his words, the tension in her lower abdomen was unbearable.

She didn't know when he took her in his arms and stood up with her, when he laid her down on his bed; she watched as he took off his tunic, commanding her to lie on her back, and she obeyed him.

She squirmed in horror as he suddenly grabbed her thighs and spread them in front of him, lifting the material of her nightgown up, leaning his face between them.

"− Aemond − s-stop, uncle, what are you −" She mumbled in a trembling voice, trying to push him away, to protect herself; she tilted her head back with a sweet, surprised moan when she felt his rough tongue run over her puffy folds, licking what was leaking out of her.

"− o-oh, gods −" She mewled losing immediately the urge to interrupt him, laying obediently on her back and clasping her hands in his wonderfully soft white hair, pushing against him with her hips, listening to the sounds of sucking and licking, whimpering in front of him like a whore, understanding that it was obvious that he wanted to give her pleasure, that he wanted to satisfy her.

"− have you touched yourself here? −" He huffed with some kind of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been dreaming of this moment all his life, of her at his mercy, with her thighs spread wide shamelessly in front of his face.

She swallowed loudly at the memory of the night she had sunk her hand into her heat seeking fulfilment, thinking of him, the way he looked now, the way he still desired her, and helplessly nodded her head.

She knew he would recognise immediately if she lied.

She heard him murmur with satisfaction at this information, as if he was perfectly aware, looking at what was happening to her now, who she was thinking of at the time.

She moaned in pleasure as his nose ran over her puffy bud hidden between her soft folds; she clenched her hands in his hair trying to push him away as he tightened his lips around it, licking and sucking it, making it almost painful. His hand reached for her mouth to silence her, but she clamped her fingers on his wrist, stopping him.

"− please, uncle, too much − too much −" She cried out pleadingly, trying to pull away from him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he released her from between his lips, looking at her in shock, apparently writing down in his mind that this place was extremely sensitive and delicate.

He hummed under his breath, returning to his earlier caresses, tentatively and slowly sliding his tongue into her tight, hot interior. She threw her head back, surprised at how pleasurable it was, her walls throbbing and clenching like crazy around nothing as he licked her shamelessly with a quiet, lewd clicks of his saliva and her moisture.

"− uncle − mghmm −" She babbled desperately, feeling something approaching, the tension and tickling in her lower abdomen unbearable, her hips rocking to the motion of his mouth.

She prayed shamelessly to the gods that he would just keep going.

"− it'll be wonderful to feel it clench around my fat cock one day − don't you think, sweet niece? −" He murmured between the flicks of his tongue, and she felt his words do something to her; she raised herself up on her elbow throwing her head back, feeling the wonderful, throbbing pleasure spill over her body in waves. She moaned some words, probably his name, feeling stunned and hot with fulfilment, her thighs trembling in his hands.

She fell on his cold bed, panting heavily, begging him to stop, but he made sure to lick her dry, as if he took unspeakable pleasure in her state and pleas.

He rose at last, breathing loudly, wiping his face, his eye wide open as if he couldn't believe what had just happened, with a quick, desperate movement he untied his breeches.

"Touch me." He muttered grabbing her hand; she squealed quietly when she saw for the first time what the erection of a man looked like. He tightened her fingers around its thick root, the tip of it pink and glistening, dripping from his own juices.

She breathed loudly, squeezing it with the kind of movements he was forcing on her with his palm, up and down, feeling it pulsing and twitching in her grasp, that it was swelling more and more, his breath erratic and heavy, full of desire.

"− fuck − fuck, come here −" He breathed out, grabbing her by her hair, pressing her lips to his in an aggressive, frantic, sticky kiss, tasting her own wetness on his palate, his hips rocking aggressively to the rhythm of her hand.

"− don't fucking stop − faster − fuck-fuck-fuck −" He hissed and groaned helplessly with some kind of immense relief, clenching his eye, his lips parted in pleasure; she squealed when she felt something wet spill out of him onto her nightgown, startling her completely.

He leaned in to kiss her, to reassure her.

"− easy, it's just me − shhh −" He whispered between one lazy, moist kiss of their lips and another, releasing her at last, her hand all sticky with his warm spend.

He ordered that nothing was to be wasted and that she was to lick it off, so she did so without a word of objection.

His seed was slightly salty and smelled like nothing she had felt before.

Like sin.

He watched her every move with satisfaction.

"− you are going to spend the night with me −" He commanded, and she nodded, not having the strength to oppose him or think about the consequences.

She didn't care.

"Mmm." He hummed contentedly, sighing quietly, pulling her by her arm along with him, laying down on his back, letting her embrace him.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged her face to his chest, to where his heart was – his fingers began to stroke her hair, just as they had then, years ago.

He knew she loved it.

They lay in silence for a long time, their silhouettes surrounded only by the warm light of the fire burning in the distance.

"– I missed you –" She whispered at last and heard his hand freeze in stillness.

She was frightened that she had frustrated him and felt relieved when, a moment later, he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, stroking her further with his warm palm.

It took a long time before he said anything, as if he needed to think it all over, to put it all back together in his head.

"Do you still wish to marry me?" He asked at last, apparently assuming that what the others were planning didn't matter and that he had to have a good understanding of what had happened between them, whether they wanted the same thing.

She lifted her head, looking at him already without fear – even though his gaze was cold and his face stern, she already knew what lurked underneath, that if he had built a wall around himself as a child, it was now a giant fortress separating him from everyone else that could not be taken by storm.

What they had done didn't change the fact that they still didn't know if they could trust each other.

"Yes." She whispered, tracing her fingers over the area underneath where his heart was beating. He looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to make sure she was telling the truth, and then he grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a warm, lingering kiss on it.

"− you have such big hands −" She whispered, looking in awe at the clearly defined lines of his veins. The inside of his palm was rough – she thought it was the fault of his daily holding of the sword.

"− they're not as delicate as yours − your skin feels like it's made of silk −" He murmured with some kind of admiration, gazing at the innocent play of their fingers brushing against each other in the air.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, the elation and pain, thinking of all the years she had dreamed of him coming back for her, of telling her that he still loved her. She felt involuntarily tears under her eyelids and pressed her lips together, trying to hold them back, however to no avail.

They flowed down her cheeks one by one, and she felt her chest begin to vibrate as did her breathing. He glanced at her, hearing this and they looked at each other for a moment in silence.

He lifted his free hand and with a slow, tender movement of his thumb rubbed the moisture from her warm skin.

"Don't cry. Come here." He said lowly, grabbing her waist and pulling her close, his hand slipped into her hair hiding her face in the hollow of his neck, her bare breasts pressed against his chest.

She breathed quietly, focusing on his wonderful, familiar scent and the embrace in which, even though she shouldn't, she felt safe.

It seemed so right.

"Tomorrow, Luke will lose his rights to Driftmark. Justice will be done, and I will announce that our betrothal was never officially called off. We will marry in the tradition of our ancestors, ending at last these years of misery." He said calmly, as if he thought it was the only sensible thing to do – his hand trailed involuntarily through her hair and down her bare shoulder, but his mind was far from her.

She swallowed loudly and tensed all over hearing his words, words concerning her younger brother's inheritance which, after all, Corlys had passed on to him, obviously aware that they bore his name but were not of his blood.

He felt her hesitation immediately and began to breathe louder, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her arm.

"Say something." He muttered in an anxious, trembling voice, but she didn't know what she was supposed to answer, her heart pounding like mad, tears welling up again in the corners of her eyes.

She thought with horror that she had made the mistake of assuming that the fact that he could forgive her meant that he could also forgive Luke.

She had noticed it then, in the courtyard, seeing the way he looked at her brother, but she preferred to push it deep into her consciousness, to pretend that it would all be easily resolved, that they would live together in peace and prosperity.

"What will you do if he doesn't lose his rights to Driftmark?" She asked quietly, feeling her voice tremble with every word she spoke.

This time it was his body that tensed all over; she heard him draw in air loudly, his heart pounding like mad under her hand.

"Is your mother-whore plotting something again? Hm?" He growled, gripping her cheeks painfully tight in his hand, forcing her to look at him in a sharp, aggressive motion.

She felt that familiar terror again, fear at the sight of madness, darkness and hatred lurking in his gaze.

"– n-no, I swear –" She whimpered with difficulty. She saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils quivering restlessly in a quick, laboured breath, his eye opened wide.

"Is she the one who sent you to me? To soften me up, to fucking distract me, to divert my attention?" He hissed with growing anger and a note of desperation, a sense of betrayal that escaped his throat as his fingers dug warningly into her skin.

She thought he had completely lost his mind.

Seeing her state, the way she said the words, his grip on her face softened, his thumb ran tenderly over her soft, tear-wet skin.

"– no, Aemond, she wants me to marry someone else, she doesn't know I'm here –" She cried helplessly, recognising that he could do whatever he wanted with her, beat her or kill her.

Nothing could change the fact that she was heartbroken.

"No. No, don't cry. Don't cry, my love. Don't cry." He whispered drawing her to him again and she burst out into loud sobs, seeking comfort in his arms; he kissed the top of her head again and again repeating that he believed her, that he just had to be sure.

Whatever would happen, the boy she knew had never been violent towards her.

"I would never hurt you." He whispered, and her words burst out of her mouth before she had time to think them through, full of pain and disappointment.

"You have done it now and you will do it again." She muttered lifting herself up, putting the sleeves of her nightgown over her breasts, wanting to lift herself off his bed. His hand clamped on her arm stopped her – he raised himself up on his elbow with her, however this time he was careful with how much force he used.

"No. I didn't mean to. Gods, I swear." He muttered, gripping her cheek in his palm, clearly wanting her to look at him, but she shook her head.

"You desire me, but you're not in love with me. You abhor me and whenever you forget that I can give you pleasure, you will hurt me." She choked out between sobs, getting up from his bed; he got up behind her, catching her waist, hugging her back.

She felt his warm, shaky breath on her skin, his hands quivering, his face pressed against her neck.

How could she be so blind, to think that after all this time he would look upon her as an equal?

"I have waited for you for so many years. Don't leave, it won't happen again." He muttered in a trembling, pleading voice.

She knew it was a lie, that he was desperate now, that if only he could be sure she wouldn't escape him, he would do whatever he wanted with her.

"You're right to think I was never worthy of you. Forgive me that you had to endure such humiliation because of me for so many years." She choked out in pain, pulling herself out of his embrace, walking out of his chamber, startling his guards, not caring if they told the Queen of her visit or not.

She returned to her quarters and threw herself on her bed, quivering and sobbing with despair breaking her heart, realising with pain that there was never any hope for them.

He did not love her.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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littlemissayu · 9 months

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TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 1)

TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff

ft. :Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw | pt.2 ; ft. Octavinelle & Scarabia | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia

Riddle Rosehearts-

This man only has 1 kid, maybe 2 but that's kinda pushing it. I think he would be so worried about messing up his child the way his mother messed him up. He'd be strict yet dotting on his children; like he'll make sure their homework is done by a reasonable time and then praise them for doing really well on an assignment, especially if it's a subject they genuinely struggle with. If I'd say a boy dad or girl dad honestly, I think it could go either way, but I'm leaning towards boy dad.

Trey Clover-

I heavily believe he will have a big family anywhere from 4 - 7 kids. And these kids are absolutely close in age because I know the two of you are gonna get very busy, it feels like you're always pregnant with other people. Just imagine Trey with a mini him (or you) helping him crack the eggs in a bowl while they're wearing matching aprons <3. He would be a gentle parent but would put his foot down went he needed to. When it comes to girl dad or boy dad I can only think both!!

Cater Diamond-

At first he wasn't sure he wanted kids bc kids are a lot to take care of, but after the two of you being together and going through so much. He realizes deep down he did want to start a family with you. He would probably want only one or two but your first pregnancy you end up with triples; then you two said that's it until you got pregnant again with twins!!(My headcanon that Cater's special magic makes it more likely to have twins, triplets, etc come for here!!). It wasn't what the two of you anticipated but you couldn't be happier

Your pair of triplets ended up being 2 girls and a boy, then your twins were girls. He's a very fun dad always staying on top of the trends and slang. He has a hard time laying down the law with his kids sometimes, so you have to do it most of the time but when he really has to he does. *Bonus: You guys have 4 family photo shoots a year, and multiple photo albums*

Ace Trappola-

He probably has 3-5 kids, but from time to time it feels like you have 4-6 kids. He's always getting into trouble with them, playing pranks on you and others, even each other. There is no quiet in your household, it doesn't exist til everyone's asleep. Your kids are the most playful and competitive children you've ever seen, but they know to dial it back from time to time; Ace told them "When your mom says it once, she might be joking, if she says it twice she more likely serious so listen, if you make it to three....your the only name going on that tombstone". You guys are the most chaotic adorable family ever.

Deuce Spade-

He has 3 kids and not a single one of them is male, bc this man is %100 a GIRL DAD!! At first he was nervous about messing her up but after your first girl turned 3 and your second is 1, he couldn't imagine having a boy. He is the most proud girl dad you'll ever see. Is so protective of his amazing girls(that includes you btw), would fight off mosquito if it bit one his girls, no matter have stupid he looks. Spoils his little girls in any way he can, luckily you're there to make sure their not TOO spoiled.

Leona Kingscholar-

This man has 2 children and always makes sure one never feels less than the other. He knows what it's like to be stuck in your siblings shadow so he tries to make sure that never happens to his kids. While he won't always be present since he is still part of the royal family and therefore will have certain royal duties to fulfill; he will always do his best to be there for his kids. He does sleep less then he did before since his life is busier, but he always makes sure to take a nap everyday so when he's with his wife and kids he'll be able to be in a better mode to see his beautiful family. He would have one girl and one boy.

Ruggie Bucchi-

3-8 kids. His kids are the rowdiest, sneakiest kids you've ever seen. Although most of the time they're super sweet(to you). The first time you two talked about kids you agreed on only 2, but after having your first 2 rascals. You two got some more baby fever and ended up having only a few more. You did have a good paying job so you could take care of your little pack of children. The Bucchi household never has a boring day because there is always something really exciting or crazy that is happening. Overall he has more girls than he does boys. You first daughter stays a daddy's girl <3, but dw he loves all his kids equally!

Jack Howl-

4 kids, an even amount. He isn't the most expressive Dad but his kids can tell how he feels based on body language and physical acts. While to others it may seem as if he couldn't care less about his kids, it is the complete opposite. Always making sure their ok, celebrating their accomplishments, and always encouraging them to do what they love. His kids can tell through these small acts that he loves them. Your husband loves to take early morning runs, ofc but when your kids are babies he would take them in their stroller so they can get some fresh air to get them in a good mood. He does that so that maybe if their baby is in a better mood you won't have to much stress when trying to figure out what they need; it makes both of your lives easier. At first the two of you though you'd only have boys bc of your first 3 but then low and behold, your last kid was a baby girl<3!!

Heartsabyul Masterlist

Savanaclaw Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

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filthgarbage86 · 1 year

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@xtravrgnoliveoil "I BEG OF YOU TO WRITE MORE OF EDDIE CALLING READER BUNNY IM BEGGING "

Ask and you shall recieve >:)

Context: Eddie had been trying to figure out which nickname to call you for a while and was trying out different ones. He noticed that some did make you blush a bit but recently at a party, he had called you one nickname that elicited an interesting response from you - bunny.

Here is part two, off of my first part here, you don't need to read the first part to enjoy this part!

CW/TW: Heavy Nickname use (bunny, princess, baby, etc but mostly highlighting bunny), lets be real it's just smutty smut smut, fluff so sweet it'll rot your teeth, very angst and a lil cringe, masturbating and getting caught by Eddie (gasp), both receiving, feminine pronoun use (good girl, pretty, sweet pea, etc.), riding d!ck, just general steam if you will or might.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since that party, you've been on edge.

"“hiya bunny, how’s my sweet baby doing?”

you liked it.

"“Ohhh what’s this, bunny? Do you like being called that?”

you don't know why but you need to hear him say that to you again. you had never felt something so deeply before but you wanted nothing more than just to be a good, playful bunny for him. That name made you feel warm and wanted and needed and you had never felt something more desired. You were luckily already at Eddie's trailor waiting for him to come back from band practice, getting fidgety from anticipation. What could you do? You wanted him to call you that again but you didn't want to be too needy or forward about your wants like that. It's embarrassing... isn't it?

You thought about what he said that night at the party. He mentioned "I’ll treat you like a good little bunny too. All you have to do is look at me in the eye, and say so.” you shivered at the thought, the whisper of the memory creating tingling by your ear and neck. You were already so sensitive. You couldn't wait. You needed something.

You went to his room, put on one of his shirts, and laid in his bed with nothing else on. You just laid there and took in Eddie as much as you could in his absence. His room was messy but it wasn't horrible. He was very him. It smelled like old joints and cigarettes, incense, cologne, and something sweet. It was delicious and it was making you high off of the thought of Eddie. Wanting to be good for Eddie. Wanting Eddie.

You found yourself just thinking about him so much you started reaching downwards, slowly playing with yourself and soon enough you are a dirty little mess. you are soaking his sheets already, you know it but you can't help it. You keep thinking about him holding you close and whispering more in your ear. You're thinking abut how strong but gentle his grip on you is, how he can be so kind and firm at once. You were whimpering, moaning, begging for eddie. eddie.

Eddie had walked in about 5 minutes ago and heard some noise coming from his room. He had put down all his stuff and was determined to be as quiet as possible, hoping to god you didn't hear him. He's watching you struggling to get to that one spot deep inside of you, a spot only he could get to. You were near tears and begging under your breathe. "please eddie please please please... wanna be a good bunny. wanna be good. please. please. please."

Eddie growled. Oh my gods, you wanted him to find you like this. This wasn't just accidental, no. you were hoping that he would walk in on you and that he would find you looking like a the dirty, filthy, little bunny you are for him. And there was no way he was going to disappoint you.

"Yes princess, yes baby what is it, what do you need?"

He is on his knees beside the bed, swiveling your body around to the edge so that he was face to face with your cunt. He's pressing sweet, generous kisses into your legs, your knees, your thighs, his grip unrelenting. You're looking at him through hooded lids, your pupils engulfing your eyes, you were completely taken over by lust. You were in another headspace entirely. Normally, you'd be so embarrassed that Eddie found you like this but right now, you just needed him desperately.

"I want you Eddie, I want you so so so badly. Please please please" He places a sweet kiss on your clit before sucking so intently that it ignites you immediately. You're grabbing for his head and grasping handfuls of his hair and he moans into your cunt at the sensation. "Good bunny gooooood girl you're so so good for me holy shit" you moan, obscenely. There was that name again. You needed to hear it again. "wanna be good, wanna be a good... good.. good"

Eddie was sucking and licking like you were ice cream on a hot summer day, acting like you were the most delicious treat and added a finger and was slowly just pumping into you with ease. "You're being so good baby-"

You whine. Nonono, you were not baby. You felt like you were going to cry. Eddie stops. "What is it princess, what's wrong?" you start whining and squirming more. Eddie presses down onto your hips and stills you with one hand and caresses your head with the other. "Speak to me, y/n, what's wrong?" you're blushing and crying and oh you were being such a mess.

"I'm don't want to be baby. I want to be... to be.." "You're safe princess, talk to me. You want to be..."

You sit up on your elbows, look at him for a moment and take a deep breathe. This is Eddie after all, this is the man that is so sweet to you all the time and has never, ever made you feel less than or weird or unaccepted. You knew that you were safe to be this way with him. You take one more breathe before closing your eyes, moving up from the bed, getting on your knees, and placing your hands on his thighs. His breath hitches, then you open your eyes, big, wide, and blown.

"I want to be your good little bunny"

Oh. It's all over. Something inside of Eddie switches immediately. Holy shit, how could he not when you're looking at him like that? So eager to please. So ready to be good for him, filthy for him. He's about to ruin you. He stares back down at you and gives you a wide, toothy grin and lights up with a smirk in his eye again. He's gripping onto your chin and jaw, causing your mouth to gap a little. "Oh bunny, is that what you want? Is that why I found you here? Were you preparing yourself for me to come home and ruin you? You want me to use you? Want me to fuck you like the good little fuck bunny you are? You are so fucking pretty and sexy, holy shit-"

You're stargazed by this, nodding quickly at all his words, already feeling dumbed out a bit. You stick out your tongue just a little bit, trying to lick his sadly still clothed crotch, trying to entice him before he's hissing and forcing you to look up again. "Patience bunny, you still haven't told me what you want to do. How should I ruin you first?"

"Please can I suck your cock? Please, I promise I'll make you feel so good" Good god what did he do to deserve you? "You can suck me bunny, go ahead. Suck me really good and maybe I'll give you a reward"

You are rushing to get his belt unbuckled, zipper down, and you pull down his pants and boxers to reveal him and oh my gods you really were just so needy right now. It was hard and long and pink and just so pretty. Already slightly wet from precum from eating you out and all the dirty talk and you didn't want to make him wait any longer.

You take his length in one of your hands and start giving open mouth kissing and licking circles over his slit. He is hissing and bucking already, so sensitive. You were both a mess for each other. You take him inch by inch, covering him with saliva to the point where you're drooling. You're sucking him lazily and also with intention, making sure to visit his balls every now and then, sucking, licking, kissing every inch until he can't take it anymore. "Bunny I'm not going to last long if you keep doing this." "Please cum, oh my gods, please please please eddie I really want you to cum for me" "Oh my fuckin god you're so so so good to me, where do you want it" "In my mouth, in my-" He's groaning and shoving his dick back into you and you just brace yourself on his thighs. He isn't holding back anymore, abusing your mouth over and over and over until finally he's cumming hard and warm slick is running down your throat. He pulls out and opens your mouth to see his seed still all over your tongue. He leans in and kisses you intensely, tasting himself on your tongue. "Swallow bunny. Be a good bunny and swallow." You do. You look at him dazed until you're looking below you at the literal puddle you have below you.

"Oh my gods princess, look at you. You're soaked, what's got you so riled up? You just so desperate for me and my cock? You just want to be fucked so good? It's your turn bunny. On the bed. Now."

You stand up immediately and you want to be good, you really do, but you need him right now. You stand up and you push him back onto the bed and have him in a sat position upright. You swing your leg to where you're straddling him and you're hovering over his dick. You both take a moment to quietly moan at the contact, you know you just had him in your mouth but to be sitting on him had you remembering what you came here for. "I'm so sorry but I need you Eddie, I really really really need you. I want to be good but please, I'm going to go nuts if you don't fuck me right now" You're grabbing his half-hard cock and slowly just sitting and taking him in. Inch by inch, you drop further and further down and you're groaning on the way down, you're so full. He's so big that he fills you up just right with the perfect amount of light stretch. Normally it's a big uncomfortable but because you're so wet, you are immediately moving and rocking down into him.

"Holy Shit bunny, you're so fucking filthy and so greedy, you're so cock hungry you just take my cock because you know you're mine and my cock is yours. Take it bunny, take my cock. It's all yours."

You are bouncing and rocking and clinging onto him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and your whimpering and moaning, begging "yes yes yes please please please so good so fucking good oh my god please thank you" into his shoulder while he continues to give praise after praise. He's holding onto you around your waist, hugging you tight into him and giving you kisses on your shoulders, neck, and whispering to you. "Come on princess, I know you can do it, I know you can cum for me. Take me cock and give me your cum, do it. Cum all over me and be a good little bunny. My good filthy, desperate fuck bunny. Come on, bunny"

You are silently screaming, seizing even a bit from the white heated wave that washed over you. He is thrusting into you, holding onto you and talking you through your orgasm, until finally you go limp. He continues to hug you, securing you safely in his arms has he strokes your back lightly until you're back with him. "Hi sweetheart, welcome back to earth. are you okay?" "mmmhmm" you just keep your eyes closed and lean into him fully. You're exhausted, and you cannot believe you just did all of that. "Well you definitely earned your name. Holy shit, baby, you really do fuck like a bunny." You're blushing immediately and trying to hide in his chest. "nonono i didn't mean that in a bad way, princess. I think it's so hot and so so so sexy, you have no idea"

"You don't think it's weird?" "GOD no, holy shit, are you kidding me? I've never seen something more close to heaven than what you just showed me. I love calling you things that make you feel excited like that. You were so good for me, bunny"

You're blushing, you are fully pink and you just smile at him with a hum. You were good. You were his good bunny. And you were hoping to continue that in other ways too.

"What about you?" "Hmm?" "What do you want me to call you?" You barely notice it by the time you look up, but if you weren't mistaken, it was his turn to blush a little bit. "Well sweetheart, you're gonna have to figure that out yourself, just like I had to" Oh, this was going to be fun.

----------------------------------------------------------

Oh my gods that was so much longer than I thought that was going to be but it was worth it because it was SO much fun to write and it definitely got me feeling stuff too. Thank you so much for asking for more and my inbox/ask box is open now! If there are any other requests or ideas, please send them my way! I'm hoping to write a bit more if I can! I hope you enjoyed!

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #softdom!eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n smut #eddie munson angst #submissive!reader #bunny!reader

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huhniebowl · 3 months

Text

French Toast?

dominic fike x reader

warning(s); none!

Listen to 7 hours when reading!:)

a/n: yeah, im whipping these mf's OUT! thank you for this yummy request!

this is short but fun. also calling myself out heavy here...i 100% went through both the justin bieber and bts phase...

*still editing this a bit, so bear with me!*

You don’t obsess.

You’ve never had a One Direction phase. You never had the primal urge to deck your walls with Justin Bieber posters, and you never succumbed to the fanfictions of BTS.

You’re firm on the narrative that obsessing over someone who has no idea who you are, a complete waste of time. So you never indulged.

So why is it that you’re leaning against a barricade, a sign below your feet with, “Dominic, play your unreleased shit!” written in big sparkly bubble letters.

Pierced tits showing nice and pretty under a fitted white t-shirt you made just for the show.

“Fuck me Dominic Fuck!” ironed on the front. His actual last name printed small and in parentheses under the second fuck.

Your wordplay landed perfectly. Other fans coming up to you with laughs and praise.

"You know," Ian, your best friend's boyfriend, begins, giving a playful glance as you slip your phone into your mini purse, "I still can't believe you've succumbed to this."

"Ian's got a point," Aria chimes in, leaning into him.

"You beat the One Direction phase, but this? This is the one you can’t beat?” She raises an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes.

"Fuck off," You start, uncrossing your arms and sliding your manicured nails into the pockets of your low-rise jeans, "This is perfectly normal, thank you very much. Mind your business."

You jut your hip out, and lean your weight to your right leg.

"Besides, I’d rather this than the Larry allegations.” You stick your tongue out.

Aria gasps, "You didn't!"

"Oh, she most certainly did," Ian confirms with a nod, stepping out of the way.

Before you can revel in your victory, Aria launches herself at you, locking you in a loose headlock. Laughter fills the air as she swings you around, and soon, the three of you are engrossed in conversation.

Occasionally pestering Ian to snap some photos of you and Aria as the field begins to fill up.

Amidst the chatter, you lose track of time.

Engaging with a girl behind you who complimented your shirt. You share a laugh with her as you recall having to fight with a 10-year-old for the last pack of sparkly iron-on letters at Michaels.

You’re handing her phone back with your number saved when the lights start to dim, and whip around to your bestfriend, smiling big.

"Oh my fuck, it's time, it's time!" You squeal, grabbing onto her arm.

Your heart races, pounding against your ribs, as adrenaline courses through your veins.

With the rest of the crowd, you scream at the top of your lungs, cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify the sound.

A single bulb illuminates the stage and outsteps Dominic. Bathed in golden light.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes widen at the sight of him so close.

He looks unreal.

Dominic extends his hands in his signature heart as the opening instrumental of "How Much Is Weed" begins to play.

You steal a glance at Aria, both of you screaming the first few lyrics together before dancing. Shaking your heads, and moving your hands as you rap the lyrics bar for bar.

Completely losing yourselves in the moment.

About 30 minutes into his set, Dominic launches into "7 Hours," your favorite off the album.

Aria shouts, and it rings with your own, as you both grasp each other's shoulders in anticipation. She knows you’ve been waiting for this one.

"I just wish that you would move round me, move round me," Dominic's voice fills the air, wisping goosebumps over your body.

You find yourself captivated.

Unable to put into words how hearing the song live feels. There's a rawness to his voice that transcends the studio version and you wish you could forever hear it like this.

Closing your eyes, you give in to the pulsating rhythm, slowly spinning in a circle and moving your hips in a way that's usually reserved for after a few tequila shots.

The new friend you made earlier joins in, hyping you up alongside Aria, while the golden stage lighting envelops you in its warm glow.

It's a sensation you haven't felt in ages, an intoxicating blend of music and friends. You feel comfortable in your skin, like you're hottest here, and you poke your ass out just a bit during your last twirl.

As the chorus returns, you throw your hands up in the air and lean against both girls, belting out the lyrics with all your heart while swaying to the beat.

As you open your eyes, momentarily blinded by the lights, a chill runs through you.

You find yourself locking eyes with Dominic, his gaze piercing and intense as he sings. His eyes linger on your face before trailing down to your body, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his lips as if he's reading the words on your shirt.

Just as quickly as the moment began, Dominic diverts his attention back to the crowd.

You try to shake off the idea that he was actually looking at you. There’s no way, you tell yourself; surely, he was just scanning the audience, his eyes drifting past you to someone else in the sea of fans.

But then, he glances over at you again, and again, and another time after that.

It became clear that he’s singling you out amidst the sea of faces. His eyes, pools of depth and intensity, captivating you with each lingering look.

Entire verses pass with your eyes locked in a silent exchange, a language of longing? Desire? You're not sure, but you know you don't want him to look at anyone else around you like this.

You're in awe by the intensity of his attention.

Sooner than you'd like, his second segment ends. And the world that was created just for you two, shatters.

You let out a breath and try to calm how jittery you feel. Nerves running wild as you get ready to hold up your little sign, and brace yourself for what's to come as Dominic prepares to address the audience.

"There's a girl up here," he laughs, "Who, I swear I locked eyes with for the majority of that set." The crowd erupts into screams.

Glancing over at your best friend, your eyes widen. When you turn back toward the stage, Dominic is indeed looking right at you.

"What's your name?" He asks, bending down on the edge of the stage and holding his mic out to you.

With your stomach in knots, you manage to speak your name into the mic without stuttering, thanks to the grace of whatever god is out there.

Dominic attempts to repeat it but ends up completely butchering it. Seeing your laugh as you shake you head, he places the mic back to your lips, clearly hears your name, and pronounces it correctly.

"That's a beautiful name," He grins, "Not as beautiful as you though." The screams ring louder and your eyebrows raise.

You're not sure if you're still breathing at this point. Dominic backs up towards his mic stand and leans on it.

"Her shirt says 'Fuck me Dominic Fuck,'" He announces with a shake of his head, "My last name in the tinest font possible under the fuck that should be Fike." The crowd roars, and Dom lets out a breathless chuckle.

"I don't know," He drawls out your name, his voice carrying a playful tone as he sways with his mic stand, commanding the stage with effortless charm.

"I'd be down, but at least take me out to dinner first?" He tilts his head with a simper, sending the fans into a frenzy.

Aria curses excitedly, her phone camera poised to capture the entire moment.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you find your voice again and begin shouting something back, prompting Dominic to step forward, thrusting the mic in your direction.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Let's go get french toast after this," You offer. "The thick kind, not the thin shit."

His laughter rings out boyishly and he throws his head back.

It's a sound that makes your stomach flutter, the only sound you ever want to hear.

"I'm not usually like this, I swear," Dominic points, his movements fluid as he untangles himself from his orange mic cord.

"ButImdownmeetmebackstage. Okaynextsongletsgo!" He talks so fast that you almost didn't hear, and your mouth drops before you laugh.

It's loud, and unfiltered, and you just can't believe your life right now.

Especially when one of the stage crew members hands you a backstage lanyard over the barricade. Your ears ring at the amount of screams that comes from the fans around you.

For the umpteenth time tonight, Dominic catches your eye, and with a wink he launches into AntPile.

You blow him kiss, and goofily wink back.

You know he saw it.

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03jyh23 · 1 month

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— 2 soon || kim hongjoong part 1

goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

(listen here)

idol!hongjoong x non-idol!reader

synopsis: years after choosing his career over you, hongjoong still finds himself haunted by the memories of you. your relationship is a constant dance of on and off, and you cannot stay away from him.

genre: lovers to strangers to ?, angst, smut

trigger warnings: cussing/mature language, break-ups, toxic relationships, possessiveness, toxic jealousy, sex as a coping mechanism, excessive alcohol usage, emotional manipulation, obsession, verbal aggression, emotional distress, mentions of clubbing, career-related stress, explicit sexual content: making out, protected sex (condom), mentions of using birth control, pet names baby, princess, handjob, blowjob, hair pulling, neck kisses, dirty talk, nipple play (?), missionary

words: 12.8 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! after several intense days of work, it's finally here! the first part of the goes to waste series! while writing 2 soon, i had many negative thoughts and was very self-critical. im still not sure if i did a good job - especially when it comes to smut. smut is the genre where i probably will never feel good enough, but believe me, im really trying. the second part is already in the process of being written. im handing this over to you; thank you very much for such a warm reception of this series, and i hope you'll enjoy it. and please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings for the sexual content!

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

taglist: @skittyneos @kyeos4ng @vcutparis

one

There you were, unexpectedly positioned in a scenario you never once imagined you would find yourself in. It was the middle of the night, the hour when all was quiet and still. Your ordinarily vibrant living room was dimmed, with only a single floor lamp in the corner casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. You were nestled into the corner of the worn-out comfortable sofa, hugging a pillow close as if it were your only lifeline. The only sounds filling the silence were the words from your boyfriend, each one hanging heavy in the cold air. You were painfully aware of what was coming, a gut-wrenching feeling of imminent heartbreak washing over you. The reality of the situation was that there was no escaping this conversation, no possibility of emerging unscathed. The knowledge that Hongjoong was about to shatter your heart into pieces was a bitter pill to swallow. This moment was the beginning of an end you had never anticipated. And it was happening tonight.

"The company believes that you will become a distraction," Hongjoong said, his voice laced with an undercurrent of tension.

"I don't give a damn about your stupid company," you retorted, your hand trembling and your eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. "I wasn't a distraction all these years when you were a trainee, so why am I suddenly one now?" Hongjoong paced nervously across the room, his movements betraying his inner turmoil. He was torn between the company and you, and he didn't know how to navigate this minefield.

"Y/N..." he sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Now that Ateez is gaining more attention after our first prize win and the new album coming soon, the company..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. "They believe I need to remain more focused."

"I don't fucking care about what they think, Hongjoong!" you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of your emotions. "You think I give a damn about their opinion?" you continued, your voice rising with each word. "They don't know us, they don't know what we've been through. All they see is some stupid company policy, but they don't see the love that we share." Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the pain of the situation threatening to consume you whole. You had never felt so helpless, so powerless.

"Please, try to calm down. You're not making this any easier," Hongjoong pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

''I don’t fucking believe that after almost three years they decided I will become a problem...'' Your voice cracked, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Hongjoong looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. It was clear that this conversation was tearing him apart just as much as it was you. "Hongjoong, do you believe what they're saying?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "Do you think they're right?"

He paused, his back still turned towards you. "I... I don't know, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely audible. "What if they are right?" The question hung in the air, a haunting doubt that only added to the heartache. Your heart pounded in your chest, the words echoing in your mind.

"You already believed them…'' you asserted, your voice tinged with a hint of defiance. ''I can't believe that you see me as a distraction now." With a frustrated cry, you grabbed the pillow and hurled it across the room, the action serving as a physical release for the pent-up anger and despair that threatened to consume you. "Fuck it, Hongjoong," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I need you to choose me. I need you to fight for us, for our love. Because if you don't, then what's the point of any of this?"

There was a long silence before he finally spoke. "I...I need to do what's best for my career," he answered softly, sounding utterly defeated. "And if that means that we..." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish the sentence. You felt a lump in your throat and fought back the tears.

''So, you’re going to leave me?'' Hongjoong turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Hongjoong's eyes flickered with pain as he met your gaze, his own turmoil reflected in the depths of his gaze. "I can't lose my career, Y/N! It's everything I've worked for.'' His words cut through you like a knife, searing through your heart. You had always known that his career was important to him, but you had never imagined that he would be willing to sacrifice your relationship for it. ''I’m sorry, Y/N,'' he managed to say, his voice filled with regret. ''I have to do this.''

"Just say it already..." Your voice was shaky, the tension in the room was palpable, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"I want to break up," Hongjoong finally said, his voice barely audible but clear enough for you to hear.

Your voice broke as you responded, "If this is your decision, then I'm not going to fight it. I won't beg you to stay, Hongjoong." The room was filled with a painful silence after your words. The reality of what was happening hit you both, but you stood your ground. "No, I won't beg," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "If this is what you've chosen, then I have no right to stop you. But remember this, Hongjoong, love is not a distraction. It's what keeps us human." He looked at you, his eyes welling up with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, the regret in his voice tangible.

"I need you to leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The room fell silent again. With a heavy sigh, Hongjoong cast a long, lingering glance in your direction, his eyes filled with a sadness he had never felt before. You couldn't meet his gaze, your own eyes fixated on the worn-out fabric of the couch, your hands clenched tightly in your lap.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he repeated, his voice just as quiet as yours. He hovered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else, offering him a way out of this situation. But there was nothing more to be said. The decision had been made.

"I'm sorry too, Hongjoong," you whispered into the silence, your voice trembling. The words echoed in the quiet room, a bitter acknowledgment of the pain that both of you were feeling. Slowly, Hongjoong headed towards the door, his steps heavy and uncertain. Each footstep felt like a punch to your heart, amplifying the emptiness that was beginning to set in. As the front door opened, a shiver went down your spine. With one last look, Hongjoong closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment. The silence was deafening, the absence of his presence felt like a void. You sat there, motionless, the harsh reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Eventually, you rose from the couch, your legs feeling like jelly. You switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. You could still feel the remnants of Hongjoong's presence, the memories of your time together felt almost tangible. But, he was gone. And you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone. Your small apartment never felt lonelier.

two

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting shadows everywhere. Hongjoong sat on the hotel floor, his heart ached like a heavy stone in his chest, echoing the raw, jagged pain of an all-too-fresh wound. Next to him sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey, its strong liquor failing to dull the hollow gnawing pain that gripped him. For the past few months, Hongjoong had been busier than he'd ever been. Recording sessions that kept him up all night, followed by grueling dance practices to perfect choreography. Once ATEEZ’s first studio album was finally out, there was an endless string of fan sign events and meetings. Then, his dreams came true — they announced a world tour. Hongjoong was so busy that eating and sleeping felt like a luxury. He was happy, but not completely. Something was always missing. You were missing. Hongjoong'd become a master at hiding his pain from the world. So good, in fact, that he'd even managed to hide it from himself. But even as busy as Hongjoong was with his career, there were moments when he couldn't help but constantly think about you. And in those small moments every song that he wrote, every dance he choreographed, every performance he gave, you were always on his mind. Hongjoong was haunted by your memories, by the love he had lost. And even if he was being so good at hiding his emotions, his bandmates could see the change in him. They saw the sadness in his eyes, the heaviness in his steps, the emptiness in his laughter. But they said nothing, respecting his silence, knowing that this was a battle he had to fight on his own. Now, it’s been over six months since he broke up with you. Since he had chosen his career over your love, ambition over affection. He believed it was the right decision, but it did not lessen the pain of his heartbreak.

Hongjoong's eyes fell on his phone, lying innocently on the carpet. He had been contemplating it for hours, his heart pounding with apprehension. He longed to reach out to you, to hear your voice again and beg for forgiveness. Everything seemed so pointless without you. His dreams and ambitions felt hollow and meaningless. The fame, the success, the love from fans all over the world — none of it mattered. Because without you by his side, sharing in his joy and success, it all felt empty. All he could think of was the sweet sound of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, the comfort of your presence. And the longer he was without you, the more he realized how much he had lost. Taking a shaky breath, Hongjoong gathered the courage to pick the phone up, dialed your number with unsteady fingers, and pressed the call button. Eight rings echoed in his ears, each one a chance to hang up, to retreat, to save himself from the impending heartache. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"Hello?"

"H-hey," His voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, "How... how you been? How you doing?" His heart pounded against his ribs. The room felt smaller with every passing second as if the walls were closing in on him. Hongjoong gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white as if holding onto it was the only thing keeping him grounded at that moment.

"I've been... okay," your voice was guarded, a stark contrast to the warmth it used to hold when you spoke to him. "Just... keeping busy, you know." Your heart was pounding loudly, so loud you were scared Hongjoong was going to hear it on the other side of the phone. You tried to steady your breathing, focusing on each exhale and inhale. There was silence on the other end. You could almost picture Hongjoong there, sitting in the dimly lit room, phone in hand, as he grappled with your words. The silence stretched on and for a moment.

"I've... I've been drinking," he confessed, a bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Thought I'd be over you by now... but I'm not. I can't be." His voice cracked, raw emotion spilling out. There was a pause again, a silence that seemed to last forever.

"Hongjoong..." you murmured, your voice filled with a detached understanding that was almost more painful than the silence before. "You... You shouldn't be drinking, Hongjoong," you said softly, concern seeping into your voice despite your best efforts to keep it neutral.

"I miss you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I... I know I caused you pain. I know I can't turn back time. But I... I can't imagine a life without you." The line went silent once again, except for his ragged breath and the deafening beat of his heart. Hongjoong held his breath, waiting, knowing that your next words could either set him free or push him further into his torment. Despite the distance, despite the coldness in your voice, he thought he detected a hint of lingering affection for him. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but it was there. A slight hesitation in your voice before you spoke, a soft sigh he barely caught. It gave him a glimmer of hope, but also a sea of despair. Because he knew that even though you might still harbor feelings for him, his choices had wounded you.

"I miss you too," you said, your voice so quiet that he almost missed the words. And in that moment, he knew that you felt the pain just as sharply as he did. Despite the remnants of love between you, you were both trapped in this cycle of regret and longing, both victims of his ambition. He longed to tell you that he loved you, that he was ready to give up everything to be with you. But the words wouldn't come. Because he knew he couldn't. He couldn't let go of his career, but he couldn't let go of you either. And so, he found himself stuck in this self-destructive cycle, driven by his own choices and his inability to let go of the past. The burden of his decisions hung heavy in the silence. His heart ached with unspoken words and the bitter sting of regret.

"I want to see you..." Hongjoong whispered into the phone, as he took another swig of the whiskey, the bitter liquid burning his throat, a fitting punishment for his mistakes. He closed his eyes, the image of your face clear in his mind, the memory of your laughter echoing in his ears. He missed you. He missed you more than he could put into words, more than he could bear. But all he had were his dreams and ambitions, the things he chose over you. ''I don’t know what I’m expecting'' All Hongjoong knew was that he missed you and that no amount of fame or success could fill the void you left in his heart.

"I... I want to see you too," you responded, soft and hesitant, yet filled with a longing that mirrored his own. Since the day Hongjoong left, your world had changed drastically, nothing felt the same. You tried to move on, to heal and rebuild your life without him. But it seemed like every time you made a little progress, something related to ATEEZ would unexpectedly appear, pulling you back into the memories of him. It was as if the universe was conspiring to ensure Hongjoong remained an inescapable part of your life, refusing to let you forget him.

"I don't know if this is a good idea...but, can we meet?" Hongjoong held his breath, waiting for your response, the silence between you two stretching out into a deafening void.

"Okay," you finally whispered back, the single word carrying a world of hope and fear, a promise of a reunion fraught with uncertainties and unspoken feelings. A wave of relief washed over Hongjoong, followed by a pang of anxiety. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, so many apologies to make, so many feelings to confess. But he feared that it might be too late, that the damage he had caused was irreparable. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult for him to speak.

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. "I'll be back home in a few weeks, I’ll see you then?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'll see you then," you replied softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. "Take care of yourself, Hongjoong.''

The call ended, leaving Hongjoong alone in the dimly lit room once again. He sat there, staring at his phone, his heart heavy with a mix of relief, fear, and longing. He didn't know if this was the beginning of a new chapter or the closure of an old one. All he knew was that he needed to see you. He needed to say the things he had been unable to say for the past six months. And most importantly, he needed to apologize.

three

The interminable weeks you anxiously awaited for Hongjoong's return seemed to mercilessly drag on, transforming into a seemingly endless expanse of time. In truth, the past few months without him felt like an eternity, every moment punctuated by his absence. After the initial shock of your breakup, which shook you to your core, you managed to shake off the immobilizing numbness that it brought. Once the initial shock was dealt with, you allowed yourself to fall into a routine, an everyday pattern of activities that became your lifeline in these challenging times. This routine, mundane as it might have been, was the only thing that kept you going, the only thing that kept you sane amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to consume you. It was your anchor in a sea of chaos, providing a sense of normalcy in a world that, without Hongjoong, felt anything but normal. So, when you saw the news that ATEEZ had returned from their tour, it took you by surprise. You thought Hongjoong would call you straight away, that he would want to see you as much as you wanted to see him. You were holding on to the thought of seeing the man you loved again, of finding closure, or perhaps a new beginning. But the call didn't come, and with each passing day, your hope dwindled a little more. The silence was deafening, filling you with a sense of dread and disappointment. But despite everything, you continued to wait, clinging on to the hope of hearing from him. Days turned into weeks, and the silence from Hongjoong was deafening. You tried to keep yourself busy, to distract your mind from the painful thoughts that threatened to consume you. You began to question his intentions, wondering whether he really meant what he said during the phone call. Did he truly miss you, or was it just a moment of weakness? Did he genuinely want to see you, or was he simply trying to ease his guilt? Your mind was a whirlpool of questions, doubts, and insecurities. You felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair. Despite the emotional turmoil, you couldn't bring yourself to reach out to him first. You weren't ready to face the possibility of rejection, the fear of him telling you that he had moved on and that the phone call was a mistake. So, you waited, hoping against hope that he would contact you.

One evening, while you were trying to drown your sorrows in a sad movie and a tub of ice cream, the doorbell rang, startling you out of your thoughts. Your heart pounded in your chest as you got up to answer it. As you swung the door open, there he was. Hongjoong stood on your doorstep, looking just as nervous and scared as you felt. You were taken aback, not having expected him to show up at your doorstep. You felt a mix of emotions - surprise, fear, anxiety, but also a strange relief. Despite the emotional turmoil swirling within you, you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of him. He was as handsome as always, his dark blue hair tousled slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and longing. For a moment, you found yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. It was surreal to see him standing there, on your doorstep, after so many weeks of silence and uncertainty. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that raged within you.

"H-Hey," he stuttered out, his eyes avoiding yours. "I hope I'm not... I hope this isn't too soon."

"No, it's... it's okay. Come in," you said, stepping aside to let him in. He hesitated for a moment, then walked inside. You closed the door behind him, it felt strangely normal to have him there, in your apartment, as if the last few months had been nothing but a bad dream. But the tension in the air was palpable, a reminder that things weren't the same anymore. You led him to the living room, he took a deep breath, his gaze wandering around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings.

"It's been a while," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, it has," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. The silence that followed was deafening, both of you lost in your own thoughts. Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence.

"I... I wanted to apologize," he began, his voice shaky. "I know I hurt you, and I'm... I'm really sorry." He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I made a mistake... a big one. And I... I want to make it right." You were silent for a moment, processing his words. It was what you had been waiting to hear, but now that he had said it, you didn't know how to respond. You looked at him, studying his face, searching for sincerity in his eyes. Despite the hurt and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited at his words. His apology felt genuine, raw with emotion. As you wrestled with your thoughts, a part of you longed to forgive him, to embrace the possibility of reconciliation. Yet another part remained guarded, wary of opening yourself up to further pain. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I've missed you so much," he confessed. Suddenly, Hongjoong reached out, pulling you into an embrace. The sudden movement startled both of you, but neither of you pulled away. On the contrary, you nestled deeper into his arms, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne instantly calmed your racing heart, making you feel like you were home again. In his arms, the pain and heartache of the past few months seemed to melt away. As you held each other in a tight embrace, the weight of the past few months began to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. Despite the pain and uncertainty that had plagued your relationship, being in his arms felt right, as if you were finally where you were meant to be.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The words were a confession, a raw admission of the emptiness that had consumed you in his absence. The warmth of his embrace melted away the walls you had built around your heart. Despite the doubts and uncertainties that lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the overwhelming rush of emotions that surged through you. Without thinking, you lifted your head from the crook of his neck, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. At that moment, all the words you had been longing to say seemed to vanish from your mind, replaced by a desperate need to express the depth of your feelings for him. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender, passionate kiss. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though time stood still, the world around you fading into oblivion as you lost yourself in the intoxicating warmth of his embrace. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming rush of love and longing that coursed through your veins. As you pulled away, breathless and trembling, you found yourself staring into his eyes, searching for some sign of understanding, of reciprocation. Hongjoong smiled and giggled quietly,

''I did not expect this…'' Your heart fluttered at the sound of his soft laughter, a gentle melody that filled the room. Despite the gravity of the situation, his laughter was like a balm to your wounded soul, easing some of the tension that had been building within you. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your flushed cheek, it was a comforting presence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you leaned into his touch, relishing the warmth of his palm against your skin.

"I know," you replied softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

''Can we do it again?'' A soft chuckle escaped your lips at his bashful demeanor, finding it endearing how he could still manage to blush after all this time.

"Of course," you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer to him. The warmth of Hongjoong’s breath against your skin sent a thrill coursing through you, reigniting the spark of desire that had never truly faded between you. Closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips to his once more, savoring his familiar taste and feel. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were picking up right where you had left off, lost in the intensity of your love for each other. As you pulled away breathlessly, the intensity of the moment lingering between you, Hongjoong placed his forehead against yours, his hand pulling you closer by your waist. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for far too long. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate and needy. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you rising. Hongjoong's voice was husky when he pulled back, his breath hot against your ear as he said,

"I'm not gonna stop myself if we keep on." You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a stark reminder of the intimacy you hadn't shared in so long. A shiver ran through your body as you processed his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had missed this closeness, the intoxicating intimacy that only Hongjoong could provide. Despite the uncertainties that still lingered, your body yearned for his. You met his gaze, your eyes reflecting the desire that was undoubtedly mirrored in his.

"Then don't stop," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. There was no hesitation in his actions then. His lips found yours again, his hands exploring your body, reigniting the flame that had never fully extinguished. Hongjoong's grip on your hips tightened, his touch electrifying, igniting a spark within you. He pulled your hair just the way you liked it, gentle yet firm, exposing your neck to his gaze. He began to leave a trail of wet kisses along your sensitive skin, his warm breath causing shivers to run down your spine. The anticipation was unbearable. You knew that after all this time, after all the longing and desire that had built up between you, you wouldn’t last long. Every fiber of your being was desperate to feel his body against yours, to experience the intimate connection that only he could provide. And as if he could read your thoughts, Hongjoong returned to kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. He was devouring you with an intensity that took your breath away, his every touch and kiss stoking the fire within you. You felt his hands tugging at the hem of your hoodie, his fingers deftly pulling it over your head in one swift, practiced motion. As the fabric lifted away, the cool air of the room hit your skin, causing a shiver to course through your body. To Hongjoong's surprise, you were not wearing a bra underneath. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over your exposed chest, taking in the sight of your bare skin. There was a moment of silence as he savored the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. Your head was spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations taking over, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second. Hongjoong placed his palm on your breast, cupping it gently but firmly. His touch was warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air surrounding you. His fingers, tender and explorative, began to play with your nipple, tracing delicate patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned softly. Each touch ignited a spark within you, a flame of desire that seemed to grow with every passing second.

As your hands began to wander, you found yourself drawn to his jeans. Your fingers deftly unclasped his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the room. Heart pounding with anticipation, you slid the zipper down, the sound seeming to reverberate through the room. Hongjoong quickly removed his own shirt, revealing his toned chest. Your hands instinctively reached out to him, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. In response, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. Hongjoong carried you towards the bedroom, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. As he gently put you down, your eyes locked with his, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again in a deep, passionate kiss while his hands roamed over your body, further stoking the flame of desire within you. You found yourself lost in his touch, each stroke of his fingers sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he slowly moved down, peppering soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, you could hardly contain the moan that escaped your lips. Hongjoong pulled your shorts down, kissing your stomach and hip bones. His touch was electrifying, setting your skin ablaze with a hunger that only he could satisfy. You reached for his pants, finally tugging both them and his boxers down and revealing his throbbing erection. Hongjoong groaned as you wrapped your fingers around his thick dick, you spread pre-cum on his length and stroked him gently yet firmly, eliciting a moan from him. Hongjoong was so hard, so ready for you, and the thought only made you wetter. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you knelt in front of him and placed a kiss on the tip of his throbbing length. Sensing his anticipation, you started licking him from the base all the way to the tip, savoring the taste of him. His body shivered in response to your actions, his breath hitching as he watched you with a mixture of desire and disbelief.

"I missed the way your cock tastes in my mouth,” you said just before you slowly took him all into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his length as you began to bob your head up and down. The sensation elicited a groan from Hongjoong, his hands instinctively reaching for your hair to guide your movements.

"F-fuck," Hongjoong moaned out, his grip on your hair tightening as you continued to pleasure him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length in a way that had him seeing stars. His body was tense, filled with an anticipation that was only heightened by the rhythm of your movements. The room was filled with the sound of his ragged breathing and the wet noises of your mouth on him. His hand tugged at your hair, guiding you, setting the pace. His other hand found its way to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep control. "I... I need to be inside you," he gasped, the words barely more than a whisper. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. There was a raw intensity in his gaze that sent a thrill coursing through you. You nodded, releasing him from your mouth with a final lick, a smirk playing on your lips as you watched him shudder at the sensation. You crawled back up his body, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the sensation eliciting a soft moan from him. Hongjoong's hands found their way to your hips, guiding you to the bed. He positioned himself on top of you, his hands gently spreading your legs. His fingers slowly explored your folds,

"You are so wet, so ready for me" he murmured in awe, his fingers brushing over your slick folds. The sensation caused you to gasp. With a sudden surge of impatience, you pulled him closer by his neck, kissing him aggressively.

"Hongjoong, I need you now," you demanded, your voice thick with desire. He positioned himself, ready to give you what you so desperately wanted. But then, he stopped, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

‘’Are you on the pill?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, not anymore," you admitted, biting your lower lip anxiously.

"Condoms?" he asked, hoping that you had some.

"I don't think I have any," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Shit, I think I have some in my wallet," he moved off you and rushed to search his wallet, which was carelessly thrown to the side earlier. After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief as he pulled out a condom. Returning to the bed, he positioned himself above you again, his dark eyes filled with desire. You took the condom from him, your hands slightly shaking as you carefully unrolled it down his throbbing length. You guided him to your entrance, the anticipation making you shudder with pleasure. As he slowly entered you, you couldn't help but gasp at the overwhelming sensation, the feeling of him inside you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As Hongjoong began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, your hands found purchase on his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. The rhythm of his movements, slow and deliberate at first, gradually picked up pace, each powerful thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and drawing moans of pleasure from your lips.

"Hongjoong whatever you do just don't stop now," you moaned, your toes curling in pleasure. His name fell from your lips again in a breathless whisper, the sound of it spurring him on. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, and your shared moans and gasps of pleasure.

"You feel so good, baby” he moaned. You felt his dick throbbing inside you, which made you clench around him, making him moan again. As your climax approached, your body tensed, your grip on him tightening. Hongjoong could sense it, and his thrusts became more powerful. "Are you going to cum for me, princess?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. Your body responded to his words before your mind could, a rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could do nothing but nod, your body taut with anticipation. Hongjoong’s movements became more deliberate, his rhythm matching your own as the tension built.

"Yes," you breathed out, the word barely escaping your lips before a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body convulsed, your grip on him tightening as you rode the waves of your orgasm. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as you rode out your orgasm, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. With a final, powerful thrust, Hongjoong groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own peak. Feeling him still buried deep inside you, you could sense the warm sensation of his cum filling the condom. Hongjoong’s head fell to the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin as he rode out the waves of his climax. The room fell silent, save for the sound of your labored breaths. He collapsed next to you, took the condom off, and threw it away. Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, and his fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, the sensation sending tingles down your spine. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that you hadn't seen for a long time. It warmed your heart, bringing a gentle smile to your face.

"I was going crazy without you," Hongjoong whispered his words a fervent declaration of the depth of his longing. "I missed you every single day," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as you gazed into his eyes, losing yourself in the depths of his gaze.

"You wouldn't let me forget about you," you smiled sadly, "ATEEZ were everywhere." You chuckled, the sound tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Every time I started to get a bit better, you would show up on a TV or the internet."

Hongjoong gave a bitter-sweet laugh, "I guess we're inescapable, huh?" His hand moved from your waist to cradle your face.

"I was so proud of you, Hongjoong," you confessed, your voice choked with emotion. "It just hurt that you needed to leave me to do all these amazing things."

His gaze softened at your words, his thumb gently brushing away the tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to," he admitted quietly, his voice hauntingly sincere.

"Will you stay for tonight?" you asked him, your voice quiet and hopeful. A silence hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and raw emotions. Hongjoong looked at you, his gaze soft and contemplative. It felt like an eternity before he finally responded.

"I wish I could," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "But I have to go back. There are things I need to take care of." A pang of disappointment shot through you at his words, but you understood. His world was unforgiving, with schedules and commitments that left little room for personal desires. You knew that asking him to stay was selfish, but some of you couldn't help but wish for a little more time together.

"I understand," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "But promise me this won't be the last time we see each other. Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll come back as soon as I can." You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the tears that threatened to fall. Hongjoong planted one last kiss on your lips, before gently untangling himself from your embrace. He rose from the bed, his eyes scanning the room for his scattered clothing. You pulled a comforter from the bed around your naked body as you got up from the bed, and you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Stay over," you tried convincing him again. "I don't want to be alone." Your lips found the back of his neck, peppering soft kisses there. Each kiss was a silent plea, a yearning for him to stay. He shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting on his skin. You knew he loved it when you kissed his neck like that. His eyes closed and a soft sigh escaped his lips, a clear sign that he was fighting the urge to stay with you. With one hand, you pulled him in closer, his back pressed against your chest. Your other hand traveled down his torso, exploring his body. You slid your hand lower, until you grabbed his cock, causing Hongjoong to let out a whimper at the sudden contact. The sound was music to your ears, a testament to the effect you had on him. This moment felt right, a perfect blend of desire and intimacy that only you two could share. As you started to pump him slowly, his cock hardened again. Kissing all over his neck, Hongjoong trembled under your touch. Your touch was gentle, yet firm, as you slowly worked him back to full erection. His reactions were immediate and intense, his body trembling under your hands. Hongjoong’s breath hitched in his throat, a soft gasp escaping his lips as you trailed kisses up and down his neck. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to set his nerves on fire, his body humming with pent-up desire.

"Feeling your dick get hard in my hand is so hot," you whispered into his ear. Hongjoong’s breath hitched at your words, he was completely at your mercy, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensations you were coaxing from him. His hands reached for you, his fingers digging into your arm as a silent plea for more. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the pleasure you were bringing him. The room was filled with the sound of your soft murmurs and his gasps, the air heavy with desire. You took your time, savoring each reaction, each tremor that ran through him.

"I'm going to make you come so hard," you breathed against his neck, your voice filled with a promise of the pleasure to come. A shiver ran through his body at your words, anticipation causing his breath to hitch in his throat. The kisses you trailed along his neck grew more passionate, more desperate, each one a promise of the pleasure to come. He was trembling beneath your touch, his body writhing with anticipation, ready for the climax that was sure to come.

"Need... need to feel your mouth on me. Please, please," he moaned as you sped up your movements on his length. You could feel his desperation in every word, the primal need making his voice tremble. You turned his body to face you, without missing a beat, you moved down his body, trailing kisses along the way. You took him in your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate at first, earning a guttural moan from him. His hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in the locks as he guided your movements. With every moan, every gasp for breath, you could feel him lose himself in the pleasure you were giving him. It only spurred you on further, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent. Hongjoong was a moaning mess, his body tensing as he felt the precipice of his release approaching.

"God... F-fuck," he stuttered, the words tumbling out amidst irregular breaths. He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and pleading. "Baby, I love you... Can I... Can I cum in your mouth?" your eyes met his, a soft nod of consent given as you continued your movements. The quiet room was filled with only the sounds of his heavy breaths and soft curses. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "I love you... I love you so much," he gasped out, his body trembling as he reached his climax. His cum filled your mouth, the taste of him intoxicating and familiar. You swallowed it all, a sense of pride swelling within you. As his release washed over him, you could see the love and adoration in his eyes. He was open, vulnerable, and completely yours at that moment. Post-orgasmic bliss took over him, his body going limp as he tried to regain his breath. You crawled up, placing soft kisses along his chest, his jaw, his lips. Hongjoong pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"I love you too, Hongjoong," you whispered, your head resting on his chest. His heart was still racing, the rhythm syncing with your own. You could feel his fingers tracing patterns on your back, a content sigh escaping his lips. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The look in his eyes said it all. He was in love, and so were you. Despite the challenges and the heartache, you belonged together. And in that moment, everything felt right. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy your embrace, his mind lost in the warmth of your touch.

"So, did that earn me your stay?" you asked playfully, a hint of mischief in your eyes as you looked up at him. Hongjoong kissed your forehead, before gently pulling away from your embrace, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he looked at you with regret-filled eyes.

"Baby I really wish I could stay, but I can't," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I have early rehearsals tomorrow. I promise I'll come back soon." He gently extricated himself from your grasp and began to get dressed.

"Don't go," you pleaded softly, your voice barely a whisper. But despite the plea in your eyes, he knew he couldn't stay. No matter how much he wanted to remain by your side, his responsibilities were calling him back.

"I don't want to leave you," Hongjoong murmured in a tone that was barely a whisper, his eyes filled with regret. "But I have to. I have responsibilities that I need to attend to." Despite the warmth of your bodies pressed together and the lingering taste of you on his lips, he knew he couldn't stay. He gave you one last look, his heart aching at the sight of your disheveled hair and the love in your eyes. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Once fully dressed, he turned back to you, his gaze soft. He walked over and pulled you into a gentle hug, his hand stroking your hair in a comforting gesture.

"I'll see you soon, I promise," he whispered into your ear before pulling away. Hongjoong gave you one last lingering look, his eyes filled with longing before he opened the door and stepped out of your apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

However, Hongjoong did not keep his promise.

four

Once again, days turned into weeks, and Hongjoong was nowhere to be found. You started to believe that your meeting was only a dream, a figment of your imagination borne out of desperation and longing. Each passing day without any word from him further reinforced this belief. The emptiness that you had once managed to keep at bay was slowly creeping back in, consuming you bit by bit. The silence was deafening, a harsh reminder of the reality you were trying to escape from. It felt as if you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair, each passing day a test of your resilience and strength. With each passing day, a seed of doubt began to grow within you. Was it possible that Hongjoong regretted what had happened? Could it be that the promises whispered in the heat of the moment, the tender kisses and reassuring words, were nothing more than a mistake? The thought gnawed at you, casting a dark shadow over the glimmer of hope you had been clinging on to. You found yourself questioning everything, your mind a whirlpool of confusion and despair. Your days were filled with uncertainty and your nights were haunted by dreams of him. You longed for the comfort of his presence, aching for the familiarity of his touch. Yet, all you were left with was the deafening silence, a cruel reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

Three weeks had passed since you last laid eyes on Hongjoong, and the absence was fucking with your head. Questions spun around in your head like a whirlwind, each one piercing deeper than the last. Was it only the sex that he missed? You were haunted by the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating way he used to look at you. The ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, a cruel reminder of the intimacy that once existed. The silence of your phone was deafening, the man who once couldn't go a day without hearing your voice, who used to fill your inbox with loving messages, had now been reduced to radio silence. Your mind was a battlefield, memories of him clashing violently with the present reality. This was not the Hongjoong you loved and cherished, the one who held you through the darkest nights and lit up your world with his smile. This was a stranger, a phantom wearing Hongjoong's face and carrying his memories, a cruel mockery of the man you once knew.

five

On a sunny afternoon, you came back from grocery shopping and approached your apartment complex. Upon reaching your floor, you found Hongjoong leaning against your door. The sight of him waiting there, a look of nervous anticipation on his face, sent a jolt of surprise through you. The sound of grocery bags dropping onto the floor startled Hongjoong, his head snapping up to see you standing there, a look of shock and anger on your face. He quickly jogged over to help you pick up the scattered items, but you recoiled, pulling the bags away from him.

"Why are you here, Hongjoong?" You spat out his name like it was poison. "I don't want to see you," you quickly got up as you finished picking up what was left from your shopping.

"We both know you don’t mean it…" Hongjoong blurts out, a look of guilt crossing his face.

"My manager found out I came to see you," Hongjoong admitted, avoiding your gaze. "The company... they're not happy. They made me sign a contract." His voice was barely a whisper, but the words hit you with the force of a freight train. "I'm... I'm banned from dating now." His words hung heavily in the air, the final blow to the fairytale you had tried so hard to keep alive. The revelation left you speechless, your heart aching at the harsh reality of his words. You felt a cold wave of disappointment wash over you, the realization of Hongjoong's predicament hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"Banned from dating?" you echoed, the words sounding foreign on your tongue. As the weight of Hongjoong's confession settled over you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. It wasn't just the fact that he was banned from dating that stung, but the realization that he had chosen to prioritize his career over your relationship once again. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "After what happened that night, you still chose them over me?" The hurt and anger bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment. You felt like a fool for ever believing that things could be different, for allowing yourself to hope for a future that was never meant to be.

Hongjoong reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "I didn't have a choice, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "You have to believe me. I didn't want this to happen." But his words fell on deaf ears.

"You always have a choice, Hongjoong," you retorted, your voice laced with bitterness. "You chose to sign that contract!" The tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. "You promised you would be back to see me, Hongjoong! You said you missed me and you wanted to make this right. And now this?" you exclaimed, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. The betrayal cut deep, his broken promises like salt in the wound.

"You can't just show up here after weeks of silence and expect me to be okay with this," you continued, your voice raw with emotion. "You've made your choice, Hongjoong. Now, I'm making mine. I can't do this anymore."

Your words hung heavily in the air, the finality of them echoing in the silence that enveloped the two of you. Hongjoong was left standing there, a stunned expression on his face as he processed your words. The man who was once your world, who held your heart in his hands, was now a stranger standing before you.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes were brimming with regret, the weight of his actions visibly weighing on him.

"But you did, Hongjoong," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill. "You hurt me... and the worst part is, you chose to. You chose them over me... again."

The silence that followed was deafening, the tension palpable. Hongjoong looked as if he wanted to say something, to defend himself or perhaps apologize, but no words came out. It was as if he finally realized the gravity of his actions, the damage that he had caused.

You turned your back on him, the sight of him too painful to bear. The man you loved was no more, replaced by a stranger who wore his face and held his memories. As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, heavy with regret and longing. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and there was no turning back.

You walked into your apartment, closing the door behind you. The finality of the sound echoing in the silent hallway. As you leaned against the door, your knees gave out, sending you sliding down to the floor. Sobs racked your body, the tears flowing freely now. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N, please," Hongjoong's voice filtered through the door, his tone desperate. "I love you, please let me in." But you couldn't bring yourself to open the door, to face him again. His words, once so comforting, now felt like a cruel mockery of what you once shared. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to ward off the chill that had seeped into your bones.

"I can't, Hongjoong," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The silence that ensued was deafening, only broken by the occasional sob that escaped your lips. You could hear Hongjoong's muffled pleas on the other side of the door,

"Baby, I need you to understand," he began, his voice steady despite the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "I love you. In this world, it's always been you. Without you, I feel so alone. I need you to really hear me when I say that I love you." he murmured, his voice filled with so much pain that it made your heart ache.

Your cry spasmed through your body, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Between gasps for air, you managed to sob out, "I love you too." Hongjoong’s voice fell silent on the other side of the door, and you clung to the silence, hoping, praying that he had left. But then you heard it, a low, heartbreaking sob from the other side.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Hongjoong's voice was barely more than a whisper, choked with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything." You clung to the cold, hard floor, your body wracked with sobs. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the silence echoing through the space, a stark reminder of your loneliness.

"Please let me in," he tried begging again, his voice echoing through the silence. But you couldn't. You were too hurt, too betrayed. You curled up tighter on the cold floor, your heart aching as his pleas continued to echo through the small apartment.

"I...I need to go," Hongjoong finally whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. You heard his footsteps recede and the faint sound of the hallway door closing. You were finally alone, the silence in the apartment a stark reminder of the void he had left behind. In the silence of your apartment, you allowed yourself to break down completely. Your sobs echoed through the empty space, your heartache manifesting in the tears that streamed down your face. You felt the loss of him deeply like a part of you had been ripped away.

six

You had lost track of how much time had passed since you last saw Hongjoong. The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks blurred into months. Morning turned into night, and night turned back into morning, but the ache in your heart remained constant. Hongjoong’s absence was like a gaping wound that refused to heal. You found yourself going through the motions of life, putting on a brave face during the day while falling apart in the solitude of the night. Every little thing reminded you of him - a certain song on the radio, the scent of his favorite cologne lingering in the air, the way the morning sunlight streamed through the window just the way he liked it. You knew it was wrong, that you needed to move on, but it was easier said than done. The memories of him were etched deep within your heart, a part of you that you couldn’t just erase. You missed his laughter, his touch, the way he used to look at you. You missed him, and it hurt more than you ever thought possible. Try as you might, you were coping really badly without him. His absence had left a void in your life that you didn't know how to fill. You felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness. You yearned for his presence, for the comfort and familiarity that he brought into your life. Despite the heartache and the pain, you were holding on. Holding on to the hope that, maybe, with time, the pain would lessen. Holding on to the memories that brought you joy in your darkest moments. Holding on to the love that, despite everything, still lingered within your heart.

You started to go clubbing, drinking more alcohol than you should, each shot you took was a desperate attempt to erase him from your mind, to numb the pain that was threatening to consume you. You tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, in the mindless chatter and laughter around you, but all you could think about was Hongjoong. Alcohol, which was supposed to help you forget, ironically made him even more present. His name was etched on every bottle, his memory swirled in every glass, his phantom touch felt in every drunken stupor. Each night was a replay of all the moments you shared, every word exchanged, every secret whispered, every promise made.

The club was packed, the music pounding in time with your heartbeat. The smell of alcohol and sweat filled the air, mingling with the intoxicating scent of perfume. Lost in the crowd, you tried to drown out the loneliness that gnawed at your insides. Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found yourself face to face with a stranger. He was handsome, with a warm smile and dark, inviting eyes. He offered to buy you a drink, his voice barely audible over the loud music. You nodded, accepting the drink he handed you. The alcohol burned your throat, but it was a welcome distraction from the emptiness you felt. As the night progressed, the stranger became more comfortable. He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours. His touch sent a jolt through your body, a feeling of excitement... and something else. Something that felt like a betrayal. The stranger leaned in for a kiss, his lips barely inches from yours. You wanted to respond, to surrender to the desire that was churning within you. But as his lips meet yours, a flash of Hongjoong's face appears in your mind. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. Suddenly, the stranger's touch felt wrong, his presence a stark reminder of what you were missing. With a gasp, you pulled away, pushing the stranger off you. You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. You turned and ran, pushing through the crowd, desperate to escape. The stranger called after you, but his voice was drowned out by the thumping music. Once outside, you leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the truth. Despite the desire to move on, to forget Hongjoong, your body seemed to have a mind of its own. You still craved his touch, his presence. It felt like your body was still his, refusing to let go, refusing to be with anyone else. It was a painful realization, a glaring reminder of the void that Hongjoong had left in your life. Staggering back to your apartment, you felt more alone than ever.

After what felt like forever, you reached your apartment complex. Stumbling through the doorway, you barely had the strength to close the door behind you. Your thoughts were a blur, the world spinning around you as the effects of the alcohol finally started to take a toll. You leaned against the wall for support, the cold surface offering a stark contrast to the warmth that was spreading through your body. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you slid down the wall, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion. You sat there, alone in the darkness, the silence of your apartment echoing the emptiness you felt inside. You pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over Hongjoong's name. Without any hesitation, feeling like you had already waited too long, you pressed the call button. The phone rang, but there was no answer. A pang of disappointment hit you, though it was an outcome you weren't entirely surprised by. You sighed, waiting for the beep before leaving a voicemail.

"Hongjoong, it's me," you began, your voice slightly shaky. "I was out clubbing, and there was this guy… We kissed and… and he wanted to take me home. But I couldn't... I couldn't because it felt like I would be cheating on you. And that just... it made me feel sick." There was a pause as you braced yourself, gathering your thoughts. "The worst thing is," you continued, your voice slightly choked, "that I would still welcome you with open arms. I miss our life together, Hongjoong. I miss you." There was another pause, a heavy silence filling the line. "I'm so sorry," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm so sorry for making you feel bad about choosing your career. I know how much you wanted what you have now. And I... I shouldn't have held you back." You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the words you knew you had to say. "And Hongjoong," you added, your voice filled with a quiet intensity, "I will never not love you." With that, you ended the call, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of your words.

In a haze, you managed to make your way to your bed, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of the mattress. The silence in the room felt overwhelming, and your mind filled with thoughts of Hongjoong. You missed him terribly, the uncertainty of his whereabouts gnawing at you. Pulling out your phone, you started to text him, your fingers clumsily typing out the words.

"Hongjoong... I miss you. I don't know where you are... and it's driving me crazy," you typed, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in your eyes. You hit send, the message disappears into the ether. Tears trickled down your cheeks, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt. You cried a deep, aching sob that echoed in the silence of the room, your body shaking with the intensity of your feelings. The room was dark, the only light coming from the screen of your phone, you picked it up and started typing another message.

"Hongjoong, I miss you."

"I need you, Hongjoong."

As you sent the message, a wave of regret washed over you. You knew you shouldn't have sent it, but the alcohol in your system and the loneliness in your heart had made you reckless.

"I still love you."

"I love you so much it hurts."

"I wish I wasn’t hurting this bad."

You dropped your phone on the bed, the screen illuminating the darkness as your messages were sent into the void, unanswered.

"I wish things were different."

The truth of your words hit you like a sledgehammer, and you broke down again, sobs shaking your body as you curled up on your bed. You cried until you fell asleep, your dreams filled with memories of Hongjoong.

seven

The crowd roared with applause as Hongjoong left the stage, his heart pounding in his chest. The energy from the audience was infectious, their cheers and screams echoing in his ears long after the music had stopped. The final show of the tour had been a resounding success, each seat filled, each ticket sold. As he walked off the stage, the reality of their success began to sink in. The bright lights, the screaming fans, the sold-out venues - it was more than he had ever dreamed of. Despite the fatigue that was beginning to set in, he couldn't help but bask in the afterglow of their performance. The excitement, the adrenaline, the sheer joy of performing - it was a feeling like no other. After all was said and done, he found himself walking through the corridors, personally thanking each member of the crew. Their faces lit up at his words of gratitude, their hard work acknowledged by their leader. The atmosphere was filled with camaraderie and mutual respect, a testament to the bond they shared. Once he had made his rounds, he finally reached his sanctuary - his dressing room. The room was dimly lit, the quiet hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. Rows of neatly hung suits, shirts, and accessories greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaos that had ensued earlier. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, the adrenaline that had been fueling him all day finally starting to wane. His body felt heavy, his mind cloudy from the day's events. He moved towards the plush leather couch sitting in the corner of the room, his legs giving way as he sank into the soft cushions. The quietness of the room enveloped him, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He let out a sigh of relief, his body sinking further into the couch as he allowed the exhaustion to take over. The day had been long and arduous, but he had made it through, and for that, he was grateful. Hongjoong reached out and picked up his phone from the bedside table. The bright screen lit up, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw your name at the top of his notifications. Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest as he played the voice message. Your voice, which he hadn’t heard in so long, laced with alcohol and desperation, echoed in his brain. His breath hitched at your confession, the image of another man touching you burning in his mind. It was a torment he hadn't prepared for, a reality he refused to accept. His grip on his phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as your words washed over him. Each syllable was like a dagger to his heart, the pain raw and unbearable. As the full weight of your words sunk in, he was left reeling, the reality of your pain and longing hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had never felt more helpless, more desperate. After hearing the voice message, he quickly clicked on the text notifications. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the messages:

my love: "Hongjoong... I misssss youuuu. Don't knoowww whereeee u r... it's drivin' me craaaazy."

my love: "Honjoong, I missss youuuu.”

my love: "I neeedd yoooo, Hongjoongg.”

my love: "I stiilll lovvee yooouu.”

my love: "I wishhh thinggs werre differrrent.”

my love: "I luvv yu sooo muchh it hurttss."

my love: "I wishh I wasn't hurtin' thiss badd."

In a heartbeat, Hongjoong got up from the sofa, the quick motion caused his head to spin. Shaking off the disorientation, he lunged for his bag, hastily gathering his belongings in a flurry of swift movements. All his thoughts were consumed by one singular goal - he needed to see you. Not bothering with changing out of his stage attire into something more casual, he embraced the urgency of the moment, allowing it to fuel his actions. He shrugged on his jacket, barely noticing the lingering sweat on his skin or the way his stage clothes clung to his body. Hongjoong’s heart pounded in his chest, as he sprinted out of the dressing room. His eyes darted around the bustling backstage area, scanning the familiar faces and chaotic scenery in search of one person. His manager. Every second was critical, each fleeting moment amplifying the urgency of his need to see you. The world around him seemed to blur into a whirlwind of colours and sounds as he navigated through the backstage chaos, his mind solely focused on his mission.

"Hongjoong, are you alright?" Minah, the stylist, asked as she approached him cautiously. She had been observing him from a distance, noting the far-off look in his eyes. It was unlike him to be this distracted, especially when they were on a tight schedule. Hongjoong didn't even notice her until she was right next to him, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. He blinked, turning to look at her with a slightly startled expression.

"Where is my manager?" he asked, his voice tense. It wasn't like him to be so curt, and Minah knew instantly that something was off. She glanced warily at him, biting her lower lip anxiously.

"He stepped out for a moment, he should be back soon," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She had been working with Hongjoong for a while now and she had never seen him this agitated before. Hongjoong nodded, his gaze wandering off again as he started scanning the room left and right. He looked like a man on edge, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Minah watched him with growing concern, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way to help. She had seen him tired, stressed, even overwhelmed at times, but she had never seen him like this. He looked like he was at his breaking point, like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. She knew better than to press him for answers, knowing that he would open up when he was ready. But as the minutes ticked by and his anxiety seemed to mount, she couldn't help but worry. Something was clearly wrong, and she felt helpless as she watched him struggle.

"Fuck it," he cursed under his breath, his thoughts racing as he rushed towards the back doors that led to the underground parking lot. Hongjoong made his way through, heading straight for the exit. At that moment, the possible consequences of his actions didn't matter to him. Just as he was about to pry open the alarmed doors, causing the alarm to ring out, he heard someone calling his name.

"Hongjoong, what do you think you're doing?" It was his manager, jogging over to him.

"I'm going back home," Hongjoong declared, his voice ringing with a determination that startled his manager. The manager, taken aback by the sudden change in his typically professional demeanor, quickly tried to regain control of the situation. He grabbed Hongjoong by the shoulder, attempting to steer him back towards the conference room where a team of publicists and stylists awaited their return.

"You aren't going anywhere, Hongjoong," his manager sternly replied, his grip tightening on Hongjoong's shoulder. "We're flying back in two days after the interviews. You know the schedule." Typically, Hongjoong was a stickler for professionalism. He understood the importance of maintaining a certain image, of fulfilling his responsibilities and keeping to the schedule. But this was not a typical situation. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, your voice in that message echoing in his ears. The sound of your soft sobs, the barely concealed panic in your voice - they haunted him. He needed to be with you, to hold you, to reassure you that everything was going to be okay.

With a firm shake of his shoulder, he freed himself from his manager's grasp, his movements abrupt and filled with a newfound, desperate energy.

"Seonghwa will take the leader role when I'm gone," he declared, his voice louder than it had been all night. "You will figure something out," he continued, his voice echoing with a resolve that hadn't been there before. Hongjoong gaze was intense, almost desperate, as he looked at his manager, it was a look they had never seen before, a look that spoke of desperation and determination that was both terrifying and heartbreaking. "Give me the keys to the car," Hongjoong demanded, his voice icily calm in contrast to the furious glint in his eyes. But his manager defied him, refusing to hand over the keys. Hongjoong was on a rampage, his usual composed demeanor replaced with a fiery rage that was starting to consume him. His vision blurred, the edges tinged with red as his frustration escalated."I NEED to go!" Hongjoong shouted, his voice filled with an urgency that cut through the tense silence.

"You're not thinking straight, Hongjoong," his manager retorted, his tone laced with frustration and concern. "You can't just abandon everything and run off. Think about the consequences!"

"I don't care about the consequences!" Hongjoong snapped, his patience wearing thin. "This is more important!"

"Oh, is it?" his manager sneered, a manipulative glint in his eyes. "Remember, Hongjoong, I can ruin you. I can leak your little secret to the press. Imagine the scandal, the headlines... ''ATEEZ's leader, Kim Hongjoong, abandons tour to chase after ex-girlfriend.'' How do you think the fans will react?" Hongjoong knew it was a threat, a blatant attempt to control him, but the reality of the situation was that his manager held the power to destroy his career.

Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest, his blood running cold at his manager's words. He gritted his teeth as he cut off his manager's words.

"How do you know it's about her?" he demanded, his voice harsh. A cold dread washed over him as he considered the implications. How was it even possible for his manager to know you had contacted him? After all these months of radio silence, how could he possibly know? His manager shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I have my ways," he said cryptically. "Besides, it's not like I don't know what she still means to you." The words stung, a harsh reminder of the heartache Hongjoong had been trying to bury. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you," his manager said smugly, dangling the car keys in front of him. With a sigh, Hongjoong snatched the keys from his hand, his determination unwavering. He would face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be, as long as it meant he could be there for you.

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong didn't care about professionalism or the implications of his actions. He didn't care about the shocked expressions of his manager and the other staff members. He didn't care about the potential backlash or the consequences he might face. This time, all he cared about was you.

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez x y/n #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you

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beepboopkek · 5 months

Text

— Strip Starchess Part 2 (F!Reader)

Including: Jing Yuan x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !! , afab!reader, pwp but barely, Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), possible grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear), no use of y/n, kind of . left at a cliffhanger, pu$$y eating, 0rga$m denial (only one time), edging, possessive jing yuan, he goes a little feral, safe sane and consensual w/c: 2.2k a/n: hello I'm back with my jing yuan word vomit I hope u guys like this... i forgot anon's name but they gave me the idea so I went with it but after some time it was getting too much so I'm jus leaving it at this.. don't need to make full-fledged smut drabbles anyway :D thank u anon u a real one fr fr also amab version is also posted !!!!! hope u guys like this :3

The conditions for this game of Strip Starchess were different.

Way too different.

You had established a few rules between the both of you, the main one being that— accessories or anything removable on your or the general’s body were officially counted as an article of clothing and,

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

Jing Yuan's smug suggestion, much to your annoyance.

Yet, you reluctantly ended up agreeing.

You sat comfortably on the floor cushion as you waited for your husband to come home, excitement bubbling through you as you thought of your little plan.

You're going to win this time.

To start the plan, the first thing you did was to wear as many accessories as possible, you're sure you'll one-up him this way.

The second phase of your plan, however, would begin during the game.

You busied yourself on your phone when you heard the door to your house shutting close and the rustle of clothes.

Jing Yuan rounded the corner and smiled at you, noticing the anticipation on your face and the impatient tapping of your hand.

“Well, someone's excited to lose.”

“You bet! Wait, who said I'm losing? We're on equal footing this time, you're not getting out of this one.”

You folded your arms and huffed proudly, so sure of your upcoming victory.

“I'm not going to go easy on you.”

“You said that last time, dear, do you need a reminder of how that ended up for you?”

The game hadn't even started and he was already pulling out his tricks.

You were not going to lose.

Jing Yuan quickly settled down, listening patiently as you stated all the rules this time, not wanting to repeat the mistake you made in the previous game.

There were only 2 matches this time, a third only if there's a tie which made it a bit … difficult for your husband.

Not because he thought he would lose but more so because he loved your enthusiasm to beat him in the very game he had mastered since a young age.

… He'll go easy this time, that's decided.

The first match started with vigour, both of you moving your pawns back and forth to avoid losses.

Eventually, the match ended with you as the loser, even though Jing Yuan tried to leave obvious spots for you, he still got you in a checkmate.

You were down a few accessories, nothing too bad,

The second phase of your plan to win begins soon.

With the second match starting, you decided to be more aggressive while playing, granting you a few of Jing Yuan's pawns and of course, the sight of a-few-trinkets-less General.

Your luck ran out just as fast as it came, though.

In Jing Yuan's words, time for the Masterstroke.

“Oh, looks like I have to remove another accessory, that's a shame.”

You looked at your hand, excitement bubbling in your chest as you tried not to giggle at what you were about to do next.

You raised your dominant hand where your husband could see it and slipped off your wedding ring, before looking him right in the eye.

“Is it my turn?”

Jing Yuan narrowed his eyes.

“ …Yes.”

You played excitedly, this is going just as planned.

You knew that if you took off the ring, his attention would immediately be drawn to why you took it off and leave him more susceptible to losing.

Turns out, you were very wrong.

Jing Yuan straightened up, his once pleasant smile drawn into a frown now, he looked at the board for a second and before you could blink, he played his move.

You were taken aback, definitely, you hadn't expected him to be paying more attention to the game now.

Not a problem, though. You had a few other tricks up your sleeve.

You took a while to play your move as Jing Yuan stared at you silently.

He lost a pawn.

Jing Yuan removed his hair ribbon and played his move before you could even process the fact that he had his hair loose.

This being the last game, you played as cleverly as you could, dodging his attacks to the best of your ability. However, when you lost a pawn you would deliberately remove the specific accessories that your dear husband had lovingly gifted you.

But, somehow— your plan was working against you.

Jing Yuan had barely spoken a word since you took off the wedding ring, only giving you a tight-lipped smile when you made a joke, nodding or replying in hums when you talked.

The second match ended just as quickly as it had started and to no one's surprise, you lost.

Is it too late to start rethinking your decision?

You glanced at the board and back at Jing Yuan, who finally smiled at you warmly.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

You paused.

“Those are the rules, yes, but! You forget that the winner is decided by how many accessories or clothes they have on.”

“Count.”

You began tapping the few garments and trinkets around your body, silently counting them in your mind.

“Loudly.”

“ … There's six in total.”

“You've lost.”

“No way! Count everything in front of me right now, I know you've cheated!”

You were exasperated, there's no way you lost, Jing Yuan looked empty enough.

Right?

“Nine in total.”

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

You sighed as Jing Yuan only smiled back at you in pure amusement. Damnit. You can't be a sore loser.

You raised your hands in defeat, pouting as you saw his face light up.

“Do as you please, general.”

Jing Yuan chuckled at that, moving across the floor and picking you up, standing as he slung your body over his sturdy shoulder and moved towards your shared bedroom.

“Oh, wow! Do I get the privilege of a bed this time? I am most grateful, general.”

You teased playfully, grabbing at his loose hair and gently tugging a few strands.

There was a light slap to your ass, you squeaked in surprise— just about to start voicing your complaints when Jing Yuan spoke first.

“Trying to butter me up, hm? I'm afraid you won't get anywhere with that. You've invited more than enough trouble for yourself already.”

You huffed, he saw through all of your tactics.

“By doing what, exactly? Losing? Shouldn't you be happy about that?”

Jing Yuan gently dropped you onto the large bed, your soft body sinking into the mattress as your legs dangled off the edge.

He towered over you, placing his hand in his pocket, digging for something.

“No.”

You folded your arms to your chest and raised an eyebrow– probing him to speak more.

He dug out a ring from his pocket, along with the long red ribbon he had taken out of his tied hair earlier and held up both items.

“You took off your wedding ring.”

Jing Yuan got onto the bed on his knees, leaning down to cage you between his arms as he looked into your eyes.

“—and I will not let that pass.”

You laughed, throwing your head back on the bed as you struggled to breathe.

“So, that's what you're upset about?”

Jing Yuan pouted, his long hair pooling over his shoulders, almost touching you.

You giggled as you clasped your hands behind his neck, pulling his face down and stopping it right before your lips touched.

Jing Yuan’s breath hitched at the action, his face dusted with a light shade of red.

“What are you going to do about it, general?”

You smirked as you saw his eyes narrow, just about to give another snarky remark when he sealed your words with his mouth, kissing you passionately. You fisted his hair and kissed him back, heat simmering through your body as thoughts flooded your mind.

He pushed you further up the bed as he settled in between your legs and kissed you like he needed air, departing from your lips with heavy pants and creating some distance between the two of you to pull you to sit up.

“Hold out your hands and cup your palms together.”

You obeyed instantly, unsure of what he was about to do but not willing to test his patience further.

He placed the wedding ring in your hands before speaking again,

“Now, interlock your hands.”

You did as you were told again, the cold metal biting into your skin, you looked at him with confusion written all over your face.

Before you could speak, though, Jing Yuan raised the hand holding his hair ribbon and wrapped it around your wrists.

“Jing Yuan!”

He ignored your exasperated voice as he continued to bind your forearms together.

It didn't really reach your elbows, it wasn't long enough for that but it definitely restricted your movement, especially with the tightness Jing Yuan had kept.

Satisfied with the makeshift arm bound he had made, he sat back on his knees and looked at you with amusement.

“If that ring slips out of your hands, we'll stop.” Jing Yuan sealed your lips with a devouring kiss again, pushing you back to lie down on the bed as he tore the few clothes you had of your body, throwing the shreds as they scattered around your room. He pushed your bound hands above you, kissing down your throat and sucking in all the places he knew you wouldn't be able to cover up the next day.

“Jing Yuan— My clothes! They’re my favourite—fuck— why did you tear them off?” You could barely concentrate, your husband's hands roamed your body like they were almost destined to do so— touching, groping and feeling each part as you shuddered in his hold. “I’ll buy you new ones—”

He bit down on a nipple, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “—I’ll buy everything for you so that you can wear it and everyone knows you’re mine—mine and only mine.”Oh, you fucked up. Big time. You had never seen Jing Yuan this possessive over you. Over the wedding ring?

Your string of thoughts is cut off as you feel Jing Yuan grab the back of your thighs and curl his hands around them, proceeding to lick a wet stripe up your sticky folds, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden contact.

When exactly did he get down there? Jing Yuan buried his face into your pussy, moaning at the tangy taste as he dipped his tongue inside you. Your bound hands came down towards his head, just about to release them from the firm hold you had kept them in for aeons-know-what reason when your husband pulled away completely.

“Watch the hands, dear.” You groaned in frustration this time, pouting at him as best as you could being completely at his expense. “C’mon, Yu! You weren’t serious about that, were you?” “Oh, very serious.” Jing Yuan dipped down again to kiss the inside of your thighs, moving his face closer. “If that ring slips out of your hold, I’ll leave you here.” A blow of cool air on your clit made your body jerk in response.

“I'll untie your arms and bind them to the bed instead. So you'll be left here, dripping onto the sheets while I go cook us some dinner. How does that sound, hm?”

Jing Yuan spoke in a low voice, right against your pussy, which was, to your annoyance, visibly wet.

Bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

You grumbled something back in response.

A nip to your folds, granting him another jerk of your body.

“I didn't quite catch that, dear.”

You whined and clasped your interlocked hands tighter, feeling the metal of the ring that had now become warm from your heated skin. You moved them back to their original position– above your head. “I'll be careful— Just– don't stop, please.”

You could feel the general's smile before he placed a gentle kiss on your clit.

“Good job.”

Jing Yuan went back to enthusiastically eating you out, dipping only the tip of his tongue inside you before pulling his mouth back up to stimulate your clit.

You were beyond embarrassed, having no way to cover your moans. You still tried to suppress the sounds, biting your bottom lip as you threw your head back.

Jing Yuan was having none of that, though. After being with you for so long he knew you had a habit of shying away from making noises.

Making noises for him.

He gripped one thigh harder in warning only to feel your pussy clench around his thick fingers at

that.

A warning.

Your climax was building up rapidly, your ability to soften your moans reducing as you unabashedly whimpered out Jing Yuan's name.

“I'm about to—”

and suddenly, it's like Jing Yuan never existed between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

…Fuck.

Your body heaved as your ruined climax started simmering down.

“Jing Yuan!”

“Yes, dear?”

His sing-song voice came out above you, he was still seated on the bed, right beside your spread legs. The only difference? He had taken away all the stimulation right before you came.

You panicked for a second, thinking you lost the ring and opened up your palms a little to see if it was still there.

Yep, still there.

Jing Yuan laughed, moving to place a kiss on your head as you pouted at him.

“Such an obedient little thing, aren't you?”

“The ring is still there, why did you—”

Jing Yuan gave you a smug smile this time.

Oh dear.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan the man that you are #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x you #going insane #afab reader

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sweetsbfreex · 1 year

Text

the silk shirt

summary: it's the brits award 2023 and not only is harry's silk shirt your downfall, so is his drunken state.

warnings: fluff!

pairings: husband!harry x reader

—

“No fucking way,” you sit up when Harry comes out of the changing room. He’s Sexily dressed up in a great in a black suit, but that isn’t what takes up your attention. It’s the silver silk shirt he adorns, unbuttoned enough that you could get a peek of his butterfly tattoo.

“What?” He looks down at his outfit, “You don’t like it?” He smirks, fixing the placement of his necklace as he walks towards you.

“I did not say that, don’t be so vain.” You roll your eyes. And when he stands before you, you can’t help but let a hand fall to his bare chest. “You look very handsome.”

“And you look striking, my love. Very, very beautiful,” he continues on, pecking your lips. “I knew you'd like the shirt.” He teases in between, gently biting your bottom lip.

Tonight was the Brits! Harry had already walked the carpet in his first outfit and you had opted out, not in the mood to be shouted at from all angles. He also already performed in his second outfit, belting “As It Was” like the star he was. Now, he was in his third outfit of the night.

You throw an arm over his neck, pulling him even closer to you and his fall to your hips in balance. That’s until you pull away, only a breath apart. “You ready to sweep tonight?”

“Love.” He shys away, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What? You deserve it.” You tell him softly, running your thumb over his cheek.

“I know, I know. Just— yea.”

“I understand,” you chuckle.

There’s a little pause, just for a second. “How much time do you think we have left?”

“I’ve got you, hm?” There’s that smug look on his face again.

“Mhm.”

And you think you’ve got him when he leans down to kiss you again. His soft lips over yours, before he moves to pepper kisses to your cheek and down your neck. You let out a sigh when he tenderly kisses the spot right under the hook of your jaw. And you restrain yourself from running your hands through his hair. His hands slither down to knead your ass. You can feel the pressure of his fingers and the band of his rings.

“H..”

You just want to be here with him, as he presses his hips into yours.

He pulls away, “Not enough time, love.” He breathes out, still peppering kisses on your now swollen lips.

“Please?”

You palm him roughly, just like he likes it.

Harry looks down, eyes blown wide. “Love,” he groans. He’s married the proper definition of trouble, and he knows it. But he lets himself lack for a few more seconds before he’s tugging your hand away and kissing the palm of your hand.

“I'll give you some proper loving after, I promise.”

You sigh, “You’ve got me riled up now, you oaf.”

He chuckles at your dismay, “You think I wanna go out like this,” addressing the bulge which stretches the fabric of his pants.

—

It’s been a great night so far. You’re seated beside Harry, Gemma on the other side. But there’s a heavy amount of anticipation in the air as the nomination for Best Pop/R&B act is announced.

Harry has your hand held under the table. Though he doesn’t show it, he’s as nervous as a cat on hot bricks.

“Harry Styles!”

He looks up when he hears his song playing over the arena. Excitement was coursing through his veins. He hugs Gemma and fist bumps his cousin, before turning to you with a beam on his face. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in a hug.

—

He’s won Song of the Year and you and Gemma laughed amongst yourself watching Harry take a shot on stage. But it seemed that was all he needed to get his night going as he sips drink after drink.

But Harry’s an affectionate drunk. And you know he’s quite buzzed when, even in the public eye, can’t resist keeping a hand on you at all times.

His lips caress your cheeks more than usual at a setting like this. His arm around your shoulder keeps you tucked beside him at all times. And the hand between your thigh only gets riskier and riskier.

“Baby, drink some water.” You bring a glass of water up to his face once you’ve noticed the way his eyes glaze over.

“I’m fine, love. Gemma, tell your sister-in-law I’m fine.”

Gemma laughs at her little brother, “Maybe take a sip or two, H.”

“See,” you tell him.

“Fine.” He groans like a petulant child. But does as he’s told, downing the glass.

—

It’s the last one for the night and he’s three for four, at the moment.

“I love you.” Harry hums against your temple, his arm on your shoulder.

“I love you too, handsome.” You turn to him with a smile, placing your hand against his cheek. It’s just you two in this little bubble, or at least it feels that way with the way Harry looks at you.

You lower your hand. “You’re a little juiced up, huh?” You tease.

He lifts up his free hand, holding his thumb and pointer finger together. “Just a smidge.” Before he belched into his fist. “Sorry.”

“Ew, H”

“And your artist of the year is…Harry Styles!”

In a drunken fit, Harry bangs his fist against the table, then shoots up from his seat. He hugs his sister and kisses her cheek. Then turns to you, his wife, who stands beside him cheering him on with unshed tears in her eyes. And in a moment of outright happiness, a fulfilled heart, and a surge of fondness for the women he loves. He sweeps you into a kiss.

You thought he’d go the proper route, just a hug and a sweet peck at most. But his arm winds around your waist and his hand takes place on your cheek, before he’s sweeping you into a crushing kiss. And who are you to deny the man.

It’s over fairly quickly, nothing too crazy. He was still on national television, after all, and his mum was probably watching.

Harry makes his way to the stage with a pep in his step. You watch as he accepts the award, hugging the presenter.

He clears his throat once he’s handed the mic.

“What a night!” The room rises in cheers. “I want to thank everyone for listening. I want to thank my mum for signing me up for X factor. My family for their support. Niall, Liam, Louis, Zayn, because I wouldn’t be here without them. And especially my wife: thank you for everything you do. I love you, and don’t know what I'd do without you and your support. Thank you Brits!” He finishes off before waving and getting off the stage.

—

“Are you having fun?” Harry mumbles into your air. His hands are clasped together in front of your waist, your back to his front, as you swing slowly side to side.

You're presently at the after party, changed into your second outfit of the night, and Harry into his fourth. You’ve had a few in you too, and the both of you truly just danced the night away and mingled with your friends that were present.

“The best night,” you drop your head on his shoulder, looking up into his emerald gaze. Harry looks down at you in return, a soft look in his eyes, but you’re pretty sure it’s the alcohol drawing his eyes together like that.

Harry lowers his head to kiss the tip of your nose. “Enough to head back home?”

Harry’s question is lined with the offer of a sensual night.

“Definitely.”

—

a/n: i've missed writing for him!!! i'm so happy i was able to get some inspiration

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗

#harry styles #harry styles brits #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles reader insert #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles drabble #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic

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cherrychilli · 1 year

Text

18+

AFAB reader, soft! Steve, breast massage, nipple play, pre-menstrual ouchies. Basically, your boobies hurt and Steve's ready to take care of you and make it all better.

A/N: I started writing this months ago and let it sit in my drafts for longer than I would have liked. This is very self indulgent because I have terrible mastalgia and I needed to write a little comfort drabble (with a bit of spice of course). Who wouldn't want to have someone like Steve around help to ease your pain? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you did!

You didn't have to check your calendar to be reminded of what was now, by your estimation, a week away when you felt an all too familiar pinch in your chest. The first warning of what was to come. In just a few hours the occasional twinge progressed to an ache, warm and beating that stretched across your entire chest and left the soft tissue underneath sore. Your breasts always swelled before your period. That much you could bare to deal with but what made it all the more unpleasant was the increased sensitivity that accompanied it. Your breasts felt heavier than they had earlier in the month and the extra sensitivity only made you more conscious of your every move. Even with the help of your most supportive bra, every shift, every step, every nudge that caused your breasts to jiggle was met with a fresh wave of throbbing heat.

Medication barely ever numbed your pain and cold compress did nothing else but momentarily cool your heated skin. After enduring it for so long you knew only carefully working the sensitive flesh would alleviate the persistent gnawing. You tried to ease the tension with your own hands during the day as you attended to your tasks but any relief was always fleeting. With all the work you had to see to in-between, there was barely enough time to massage yourself properly and the times you were able to give yourself some extra attention, your overworked wrists would tire before you could quell the throbbing. As much as you tried on your own, you found that it felt far better when Steve took over for you, letting him gently knead your tender flesh while you were allowed to relax and melt under his touch.

You waited until he returned home from work, throwing your shirt off without a shred of hesitation moments after he'd walked through the door. "Baby", you let out in a honeyed whimper, pretty but he can hear the pain behind it, quickly realizing what had been troubling you all day. Concern for you was always at the forefront of Steve's mind of course. He was always sympathetic to your discomfort but he couldn’t help the excitement that spiked inside him when he found you waiting for him on the couch. You were a sight even in your current state. Your busy hands working underneath your thin t-shirt, only ridding yourself of it entirely at the sight of him, pleading with big desperate eyes and soft whines to have his hands on you instead. He had to remind himself to keep that excitement contained. At least for now.

"Come here, babe. Let me take care of you", he soothed, joining you on the couch and directing your attention to his lap as he pat it with a gentle smile. "Can't have my girl in pain".

You heaved a sigh of relief before handing him the bottle of baby oil you had placed on the table in anticipation of his arrival. You settled yourself on his lap with your back against his chest, letting out an appreciative hum when he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. You wait for him to pop the cap back on the bottle, watching the oil pour into the well of his palm before he sets the closed bottle back on the table, rubbing his hands together to coat his palms with the slippery contents. As soon as he parts his hands you're pulling at his wrists, bringing his hands up to cover your breasts. "So impatient", he chides playfully, letting you press them into your skin. "Hurts so bad" you groaned in reply, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his warm hands on your bare breasts.

He took note of the amount of pressure you applied when you squeezed your hands over his, letting your hands fall away when he matched it. Steve was always mindful to start with light, occasional squeezes before gradually getting more firm. You rest your head against his shoulder while he props his chin on yours to get a better look, figuring out which areas needed the most attention. His fingers rubbed at the top of your breasts while the heel of his palm pressed into the bottom curve of your breast and kneaded upwards, gliding over your skin with the thin coating of oil.

"I know you said it hurts but, what does it feel like exactly?", he pondered out loud, wanting to understand how this all made you feel. Many words come to mind and you're unsure on which one to settle on. "Tight" you answered first before elaborating, "just, really sore and hot and tight. The kind that feels like it's cutting through you", you added just as another sharp pang flared in your left breast. You couldn't see it, eyes squeezing shut at the newest twinge of pain but Steve's lips fell into a little frown at that, feeling bad that you had to go through this every month. You relax your pinched brow when his fingers find the exact spot that was bothering you, working the twisting ache away carefully. "And how about when I massage them?", he asked again.

A smile tugged at our lips, already feeling the benefit of his hands kneading the tension away. "Mmm...kind of like loosening a knotted muscle and holding ice over a burn at the same time", you explained after a thoughtful pause. You can sense the frown on his face now. Using more pain to describe your relief might not have been the best choice of words you realize. "Really really good", you quickly substituted instead. You're making me feel so good, Stevie", you reached up to caress his cheek in thanks, a hint of stubble scratching underneath your fingers. His frown softened then, returning to the gentle smile that he had greeted you with earlier.

Basking in your praise was short lived however because it was impossible to miss the way your breath would hitch whenever he rubbed over one of the more sensitive areas with his chin propped on your shoulder. Alleviating your pain remained his top priority but the feeling of your nipples pebbling against his palms, the sight of your supple breasts in his hands and fuck, the way you whimpered and moaned right beside his ear made it difficult to keep his cock from reacting.

He grazed your pert nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shuddered in response against him before asking you if you were feeling any better, a wobbly tone to his latest inquiry. The answer was obvious yet he asked it anyway to distract himself from the way your ass had begun to grind against his stiffening cock and the sensation of your nails sinking into his thighs. He couldn't tell if you were aware of what you were doing. If you were just so lost to his touch, moving against him unconsciously as the pain started to subside. He only knew that if you kept this up you were bound to feel it soon enough. You hummed out a very satisfied ‘yes’, following it with a breathy request, one that made the blood rush to cock that much faster.

“So so good…but, I need a little more right here".

You reached up to guide his hands once more, grazing the pads of his fingers over your nipples again. "Could you-", but he was already following through without you having to say any more, gently circling and rolling your nipples. You let your hands drop, going limp against his chest with a blissful sigh. The extra sensitivity no longer plagued you, pleasure beginning to spark and heighten instead. Feeling a little daring, Steve applied the slightest bit of pressure, pinching the buds gently. He eased when you didn't protest, showing your approval by arching your back to push your breasts into his hands further. It encouraged him to tug on your nipples, pulling a high pitched whimper out of you next. The oil that had been applied to your chest had absorbed into your skin now, no longer a glistening sheen blanketing your skin, only leaving you softer to the touch.

"Stevie, need you to do one more thing for me", you let out, dulcet and feathery he almost hadn't heard it despite how close you were to him.

"Anything", he answered quick.

"Would you mind…using your mouth? I just…I don’t know- I feel like it’ll help…”, the meek lilt to your voice and the way your head ducked told him that your newest request had little to do with sating your original ache and had everything to do with a new one a little further south when he noticed your thighs rubbing together.

"Yeah? would that make you feel better?", he teased knowingly, beaming with a grin.

You nod, a little shy about it but mostly eager.

"Turn around for me"

You do so, catching sight of the outline of his cock as you move to straddle his lap, hard and more than evident underneath his jeans, just as you'd pictured it when you felt it beneath you earlier. You will yourself to be patient, directing your fingers away from his bulge for the moment, keen on letting him get his mouth on you first before you can return the favor. You fully intended on showing him how much you appreciated his help.

Steve takes a moment to stare at your breasts as you curl your fingers over his shoulders and ease yourself down. He notices that you're not wincing anymore when they jiggle as you adjust yourself in his lap and that makes him happy for two reasons. First, because it means he's lessened your pain and second, because it means that he doesn't have to be as gentle with you anymore. You gasp when his tongue washes over your right nipple before blowing on the wet skin, watching it perk up and turn stiff. Your skin tastes faintly of the softly scented oil he'd massaged into you. Not unpleasant. Subtle and tasted exactly how it smelled. He does the same with your left, watching the bud pull tight before he closes his lips around it. "Fu- oh, just like that", you moaned, eyes slipping shut as he sucked and laved at your nipples, teasing them between his teeth until the only ache left was the one between your legs and he had no problem taking care of that too.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

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twirlywhirlywriting · 4 months

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Consequences of Being a Brat

Eddie Munson Fic Incoming!

NSFW 18+, Minors DNI! Okay so this one is… whoo. A lot more intense than my previous fics. I know I said my next fic would be with Clarke Griffin from The 100 but I got smacked in the face with inspiration for this so, here you go. This fic is purely self indulgent and I pretty much made it just for my own desire BUT I am sure all you dom!Eddie lovers out there will enjoy it too. I honestly have no clue if The Magic Wand existed in the 80’s but for the sake of this fic, it absolutely did. The ending is super fluffy so please stick around for it too! Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this, it would mean the whole entire world to me!

Word Count: 9,016

Warnings:NSFW 18+, Angst (very slight), Smut, Fluff, AFAB Reader, Aftercare, BratTamer!Eddie, Brat!Reader, Breath Play (one time near the end), Bondage, Biting, Potential CNC? (honestly I’m not sure if it is or not. Reader doesn’t want to accept punishment but it’s all a part of their brat/tamer dynamic and consensual, but as always, read at your own risk), Choking, Crying During Aftercare, Dom!Eddie, Degradation, Dacryphilia, Eventual Submission, Extreme Sensitivity, Face Slapping (Only a couple of times and it is not extreme), Forced Orgasms, Fingering, Humiliation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Orgasm Control and Denial, Punishment, P-in-V (unprotected, wrap it up irl folks), Rough Sex, Sub!Reader, Spanking, Swearing, Squirting, Subspace (mentions of, it’s not super deep), Vibrators

Idk I feel like I overdo it with warnings sometimes but I want you to be able to read at your own risk and avoid your own triggers, I do not want my writing to cause harm! Only horniness and happy feelings! Anywho, here is my newest fic and I really hope you all love it!

Consequences of Being a Brat

The stage lights focused, the crowd hushed, and the electric hum of anticipation filled the air. Eddie Munson, with his shaggy brown hair cascading over his shoulders, stood center stage. His fingers started strumming his electric guitar as Corroded Coffin launched into their first song. In the sea of people, Eddie scanned the crowd, looking for one face in particular–yours. You never missed a single concert, and tonight shouldn’t have been any different. But tonight, no matter how hard he searched, you were nowhere to be found.

Where the hell is she? He thought to himself. As the concert reached its crescendo, Eddie’s mind wandered, his performance slightly faltering. Once the last note echoed through the quarry, Eddie rushed offstage. His heart pounded with a mix of post-performance adrenaline and concern for where you could be.

Back at home, I was absolutely fine. My coworker at the bakery asked me to pick up their shift, so I was working overtime and honestly forgot about the concert tonight. I was laying on the couch, lounging in Eddie’s Hellfire club shirt and black cotton panties while watching some cheesy horror flick. I was just about to get up from the couch to call in for a pizza delivery, when Eddie crashed through the door.

He looks absolutely frantic, making me feel instantly guilty. I totally forgot to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to make the concert tonight. Fuck. “Eddie, I’m so sorry! I had to cover Emily’s shift tonight and I completely forgot to let you know I wasn’t going to make it. I feel terrible.” I stand up to give him a hug, he looks like he needs it.

Eddie’s frustration softens, but is still very present. “You just forgot to tell me? I was worried sick, baby. I thought you were hurt.” He hugs me back tightly, before sighing and letting me go.

“I know, I know, Eddie. I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back as he runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. One of the rings on his fingers gets stuck in his hair and as he is figuring out how to get it un-stuck, I can’t help but giggle.

His head immediately snaps to look at me, questioning, “What’s so funny?”

I try not to, but I can’t hold back another giggle. “I can’t help it, you looked so worried.. It was kind of cute.” I know this conversation will get me nowhere but trouble, but my heart feels so inflated with how much he cares about me, I don’t even care right now.

His eyes close for a moment as he processes what just came out of my mouth, his tongue jutting into the side of his cheek. When he opens his eyes again, they seem much darker than they were before and I knew that my words had started something. His tone itself could cut through ice. “Excuse me? Would you like to repeat that? I’m just not sure that’s what you were really trying to say, sweetheart.”

His words shoot a shiver through my body and directly down to my core. He doesn’t call me that unless I’m really starting to push my limits. It’s a fucked up nickname because it’s way too gentle for whatever he’s planning to do to me.

For some stupid reason, the desire to provoke him becomes unbearable. “That is actually exactly what I was trying to say. You were so worried about me that you ran home and almost tore the front door off its hinges. It was absolutely adorable.” I put extra emphasis on the last word, a smirk playing on my lips.

His eyebrow raises at me as his arms cross over his chest, his fingers tapping his arm in an attempt to control his desire to put me over his knee right that second. “Oh yeah? Wanna make that hole you’re in a little deeper?” He takes a step closer to me until it feels like he’s towering over me, his face only inches from mine, and whispers, “Go on, say something else. I dare you.”

Those fucking words. Maybe on any other day, I would have just apologized and took a spanking or two. But daring me? Oh boy, today was not the day. I just got done with two fucking shifts at work in a row and okay, yeah, I can see why you’d be worried about me and now you’re mad that I’m mouthing off, but seriously? Fuck you, Eddie! I thought to myself.

Surprise registers on his face as his mouth opens slightly, eyes widening. Oh god. Did I just say that out loud? I look up at him and laugh nervously. “Is it too late already to say I’m sorry?” My voice is much more quiet than I mean it to be, but it’s too difficult to speak up when his eyes are on fire and it’s directed right at me.

He just stares at me, his eyes going from that teddy-bear brown to straight up black. He starts unbuckling his belt, pulling it from the loops slowly. My mouth dries out and for a moment, I’m frozen in place before the realization of what he’s about to do hits and I fucking bolt towards the bathroom so I can lock myself in there for a while until he calms down.

His hand quickly reaches out and grabs me by the wrist before flipping me around to face him. He grabs my chin and forces me to look up at him while his other hand continues pulling his belt from the loops at an agonizing pace. “And just where do you think you’re going? You really think you get to say that shit to me and then run off to avoid my belt? Really?” He can’t help but laugh at my escape attempt, but his laugh sounds empty.

I try to pull my face away from his grip, but it’s impossible. My nerves turn into anger and I suddenly swat his hand away from my face, my voice raising to a yell. “You can’t get me in trouble for this! I was just messing around, Eddie, can’t you take a fucking joke?”

The growl that escapes his lips is feral. He grabs me by the back of the neck and pushes me forward, forcing me down the hallway towards the bedroom as he bites back, “Eddie? I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, sweetheart, but that is incorrect.”

I’m practically stumbling over my own feet, he’s pushing me so hard and walking too fast for me to find a good rhythm in my steps. I get shoved down onto the mattress face first, but quickly flip myself around and sit up, scrambling backwards to the opposite side of the bed. “Stop it! Eddie I said I was sorry, I was joking! Don’t do this, seriously.” My voice is definitely mixed with panic and anger… arousal is in there somewhere too, judging by the wet spot I know is coming through my panties right now.

He grabs me by my ankles and drags me back towards him, before flipping me over, scolding me as he yanks off my panties and giving my ass a few hard spanks with his hand to warm me up. “Let me get this straight. You are acting like a fucking brat, and now you refuse to take your punishment for it? Not only that, you know how you’re supposed to address me right now, yet you keep acting like you’re just my sweet little girlfriend and calling me by my name. But you’re not my sweet little girlfriend right now, are you?”

He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond to his questions, he just grabs his belt and uses every harsh spank with it to emphasize his next words. “You. Are. My. Bratty. Fucking. Slut.” I wince and whine at every smack, and then my hands fly back to cover my now-bright red ass for protection. He has no patience with me anymore, I can tell. He grabs my hands to pin them behind my back, which makes me groan out in frustration and panic, and without even thinking about it, I’ve kicked my feet at him and hit him right in the thigh. Thankfully it wasn’t a direct kick to the balls, but it was close. And now I’m fucked.

I look back at him as best as I can, and the look on his face sends another round of chills down my spine. I can feel myself getting wetter by the second though, fuck my life. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it!” I scream at him, squirming as hard as I could to try to get away, “I wouldn’t have done that if you had just let me go!”

He tuts at me from behind, sighing in disappointment. “You really need a lesson in obedience today, don’t you? I tried to just give you a few spankings with the belt. Just a few, and you just can’t stop making things worse for yourself.” He grabs me by the hair and yanks me up to sit, making me yelp. My shirt is torn off of me before a quick, double-handed shove sends me crashing back down. It’s not gentle, and I let out an “oof” when I hit the bed. He grabs me by my hips and flips me over again before getting onto the bed and straddling me so I can’t squirm away.

He leans over and grabs a piece of rope in the bedside table drawer before grabbing my wrists harshly. As he is tying my wrists together, he talks to me rather calmly, as if he’s explaining how two plus two equals four. “If you had just taken your punishment like a good girl, I wouldn’t be having to do this, sweetheart. But you just couldn’t shut your mouth, could you? And then you kick me? You actually kick me? Well, when this all gets too intense for you, just remember that you brought this on yourself. I tried to let you off easy, I really did. But now it’s time to face the consequences, sweetheart.” He sighs as he pulls my arms up to tie the other end of the rope against the headboard, acting like my squirming is literally nothing to him. The entire time he’s talking I’ve been doing my best to squirm, to look at him with pleading eyes, to whimper at him submissively like I know he likes, but none of it was doing a single thing to change his mind.

I suddenly notice just how naked I am, and just how clothed he is. It makes my thighs squeeze together as I try to hide just how fucking turned on I am by all of this. Am I terrified? Yes. Have I ever gotten in this much trouble before? No. Am I wetter than I’ve ever been before in my life? God, yes. When he is done with the ties, he looks down at me with his arms crossed against his chest again and his eyebrow raised, waiting for… something?

I look up at him for a few seconds, getting a little bit irritated by the way he’s sitting there and staring at me expectantly but not doing or saying anything. “What?” Oops. That came out harsher than I meant it to.

“Well? Are you going to apologize?” He demands. Why the fuck is my only urge when he looks like that to make him even more agitated? I know punishment is coming. I know he’s at his limit with my disobedience and attitude. And yet it’s just too entertaining to witness all of his reactions when I refuse to give up.

“No. You don’t own me, you can’t make me do shit.” I glare at him, shutting my eyes and pulling at the restraints slightly as I prepare for a slap. It doesn’t come.

I slowly peek one eye open and he leans forward, grabbing my chin in his hand so hard it hurts until I fully look at him, and then whispers, “Oh, but I do. And you’re going to learn that the hard way.” I can’t help but swallow hard, and my mouth dries out again. I have no clever response to that.

He crawls off of me and grabs the underside of my knees, yanking them open despite me trying to keep them closed. I knew I was a mess down there and I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that too. When he sees how wet I am, he lets out a whistle. “Damn, baby. You are such a dirty girl.” His fingers go right to my core, spreading my lips apart with two fingers, causing me to whimper and turn my face away from him because the way he’s looking at my pussy right now has my stomach doing flips.

He slides two his two fingers up and down my slit to wet them before shoving them both inside me, giving me absolutely no time to adjust before he starts pumping them in and out at a much faster pace than he normally warms me up with. I moan out as his fingers are sliding in and out easily. I can already hear how wet I am on his fingers, and it makes my cheeks flush at the sound. I can’t even help it at this point and I squirm at the sensation, my legs closing around his hand. Which, obviously doesn’t do fucking anything to stop him or even slow him down. He curls his fingers up once he feels my g-spot start to swell from stimulation, not only making a “come here” motion but also still bringing his fingers in and out of me at a vicious pace. I squeeze my legs tighter and my moans straight up sound like I’m in a porno movie or something.

“You are so fucking wet. I don’t even need to warm you up like this, do I? No, I don’t think I do.” He rips his hands away and leaves me whining at the empty feeling, but it is quickly replaced by the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I don’t even remember seeing him take off his pants. He slides it along my slit and barely touches my clit with it, which makes me flinch. He slowly pushes himself inside of me as he grabs my hips so hard, I swear they’ll bruise. He leans his head back and groans at the feeling, but just a moment later he is pounding into me at an unforgiving pace. I look at him as my mouth hangs open, keeping eye contact as I’m unable to hold back my moans yet again. The speed of his thrusts mixed with just how turned on I am causes me to get closer to an orgasm much faster than I’d like to.

I absentmindedly try to wrap my arms around him for something to hold on to but the ropes promptly remind me that I can’t. As he feels my pussy starting to twitch and throb the closer I get to an orgasm, he grabs onto the back of my thighs and pushes my legs up and to the side of me, giving him a much better angle to hit my g-spot with every thrust. When he hears the sweet sounds I’m making at this angle, he starts pushing himself deeper and thrusting his hips even harder, practically slamming into my cervix every few thrusts. If it weren’t for how ruthlessly he was fucking me, I would be extremely distracted by the heavenly groans that were freely flowing from his lips right now.

I’m heading towards an orgasm so quickly, I barely have time to say “I’m gonna” before he pulls his cock out of me faster than I can realize what was happening. Right as I’m about to open my mouth to argue or whine at him for rudely stopping my impending orgasm, he brings his hand down to slap my pussy. The wet sound it makes mixed with the sting on my sensitive lips makes me arch my back and groan. He chuckles darkly and slaps my pussy again just to hear me make that sound again.

Then he gets right in my face, and his voice sounds like it’s practically an entire octave lower than usual. “Do you want me to make you cum? Hm? Is that what you want?” I know where this is heading, and it is not in my favor. I nod my head quickly at him, making my voice sound as submissive as I can manage right now, hoping it will work.

“Yes! Yes please, please make me cum! Please Ed-Sir! Please make me cum Sir!” When I almost called him Eddie, he looked like he was about to fucking lose it, so I corrected myself. There have been times before when he’s edged me for days without letting me cum, and I absolutely cannot take that kind of punishment right now.

He places his hand around my throat, squeezing tight enough so that I can’t easily speak and then slams himself inside of me again without warning. No sound comes out when I try to cry out from the sudden force. He speeds up and slows down in a repeating pattern until I’m quivering under him and he can feel just how close I am. He loosens his grip on my throat and has a devilish smirk while he says, “Say it again. Beg me. Say ‘Please Sir, please make me cum like the little slut I am.”

I balk at his words; my voice is caught in my throat and I even stop moaning for a second. I’m so fucking close to cumming though, my legs are shaking uncontrollably. He slaps both of my tits, hard, to jump-start my brain into saying something. “Fuck! Don’t make me say that, God, please just let me cum!”

A chuckle escapes his lips and he tuts his tongue at me in disappointment. He slaps me in the face suddenly. “God isn’t here, sweetheart. It’s just me. You just don’t want to listen, do you?” He says this casually, as if he didn’t just hit me. He pulls his cock out of me again, and I whine as my impending orgasm fizzles out again. He leans over and grabs more rope, silently tying my calf to my thigh and then tying the other side of the rope to the headboard. He does the same thing to my other leg, so that both of my legs are tied up and out of his way. I give the ropes a test squirm and become increasingly nervous as I realize just how little wiggle room I have. I can barely even move my hips an inch. Not good.

I want so badly to complain, to whine, to beg, to argue my way out of this. But as soon as my mouth opens, no words come out. Which is good, because the way he’s looking at me is telling me that now my punishment is going to really begin, and I am too nervous to make it any worse than it’s about to be. He reaches his hand out towards me and grips my cheeks in between his thumb and fingers, digging in. “You have been such a brat today, you don’t deserve an ounce of mercy, sweetheart.”

He lets my cheeks go with a bit of force, before aligning himself up against my entrance and slamming inside me again. I’m hitting the edge so fast, I can’t even help myself from begging, despite what he literally just told me about not deserving mercy. “Please! Please just let me cum. Don’t edge me again, please! Two times is enough, Sir. Please, two times is enough!” My voice sounds whorish, even I can hear it. The force that he’s slamming into me makes every other syllable sound strained through my moans.

“Oh, you think two times is enough?” He scoffs at me before pulling all the way out until just the tip is at my entrance, before slamming into me all the way and growling, “You think two times is all you deserve? You’re pathetic, baby. You don’t even realize how much you need me to break you, to put you in your place.”

He pulls out and slams into me again, his hands reaching up and pinching my nipples hard enough to make me yelp. He continues at this pace, keeping me right on the edge with his incredibly slow, forceful thrusts. “Now beg me for it. Tell me you want me to make you cum. Say ‘Please Sir, please make me cum like the little slut I am.’” He spits out the word “slut” with venom, his eyes don’t leave mine for a second. I’m so close, so needy, so fucking close that I don’t dare look away from him either.

I cry out in frustration, a “no!” escaping my lips before I can even stop it. I look at him desperately, about to apologize for defying him yet again and beg him to just let me cum, but he smacks my tits again and uses both of his hands to grip my throat. He squeezes just enough that I can still breathe, if I really focus, but there’s no way I can talk.

“No?” he repeats, an evil grin spreading across his face as he pulls out of me all the way again, and I think for a second he’s going to stop completely. “Well then, I guess we’re just going to have to keep going, aren’t we?” He leans in and bites the inside of my tit right next to my nipple so hard that I pull against the restraints and my eyes squeeze shut. He pushes himself back into me again, his pace so fast the bed sounds like it’s going to fucking break. I’m so close, so so close, and he knows it. He can feel it. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, babygirl.”

As tears start to spring to my eyes, he lets my throat go and places his hands on each side of my head instead. The second I can, I’m begging as best as I can, “Please! Please pleasepleaseplease let me cum, Sir I can’t take it, please!” My words are barely even words, they’re all mushed together and tangled in between moans. My entire body is shaking from being so close as I try my best to hold it back.

The grin on his face is sinister. “That’s more like it! Keep fucking begging, sweetheart. Say those magic words for me and I’ll let you cum.” His pace is unrelenting, giving me no option other than to hold back my orgasm, which he knows I can’t do for long.. Bastard, he isn’t giving me a choice anymore.

My breathing becomes ragged as I fight desperately not to cum, but I can’t do it anymore. My eyes fly open wide and just as I’m about to lose control, he pulls out of me all the way. I never thought I’d be so relieved to feel the sensation of my orgasm fading away. I immediately pout at him, my voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t say it, Sir.. It’s too embarrassing. Please, please just let me cum.”

“Oh, is it embarrassing for you?” He asks, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He wraps a hand in my hair, pulling my head up just a bit and putting his face very close to mine. “You think it’s embarrassing to beg for my cock? To admit that you’re mine and you’ll do anything for me to let you cum?” He slides his fingers inside of me, curling his fingers up towards my g-spot and fingering me violently, putting his entire arm into it, causing my hips to jiggle with the pure force of his movements. “Well, you’re gonna have to get over that embarrassment and beg me the right way, because I’m not stopping until you do, slut.”

Tears form in my eyes at his words and the fact that he’s yet again working me so quickly towards an orgasm. It’s making my brain start to go fuzzy from all of the edges, slaps, and harsh words. My mouth opens and I can tell that the moans and gasps coming from me are just entertainment for Eddie at this point, because he mockingly moans right back at me, then growls. “Yeah? That feel good baby?”

I can’t handle it anymore, all of my nerves feel like they’re being set on fire with how much I need to cum right now. I let out a single whimper in defeat, and my eyes drift away from him despite the fact that he’s holding my head up and forcing his face in mine. “Please Sir! Please make me cum…” the second half of my sentence is barely above a whisper, but I know he can hear it. “Like the l-little sl-slut I am.” My cheeks are on fire and I’m sure I am the color of a tomato after I finally say it.

He sighs with satisfaction, his smirk turning into a huge grin and he finally lets my hair go. Just as I think he’s finally about to let me cum, he pulls his hand out of me yet again. I squirm against the ropes and a single tear falls onto my cheek with pure frustration, looking at him with horror as if he just committed a crime.

“You’re not getting off that easy. Say it like you mean it, baby. Say it like you’re proud to be my slut.” He slides his cock back into me, both of us emitting a low, guttural groan at the same time. He barely gives me a second to hesitate before slapping me on my cheek again, his voice as sharp as a knife. “Fucking. Say. It.”

I gasp as he slaps my cheek again before letting out a mix between a moan and a whine in frustration from how torturously slow he’s going. His goal right now is just to keep me teetering on the knife’s edge of an orgasm. I finally give up and cry out, “Please! Please Sir, make me cum like the little slut I am, please! I can’t take it anymore!”

The smirk that crept back on his face was pure evil. “Good fucking girl!” he groans as he finally picks up the pace, pumping into me deep and hard and fast, slamming into my g-spot with every thrust. As my orgasm finally crashes into me, I practically scream. My back arches as much as it is allowed and I can still hear the sloppy wet sounds of him slamming into me over and over, despite how loud I am. My breath is stolen away from me with how intense it all is, all of those edges making this one orgasm almost unbearable. My limbs keep shaking and fighting against the rope even as my orgasm slows down because my pussy immediately feels overstimulated. My eyes look glossy as tears are filling them again and I can’t stop squirming. “Please stop, please stop, it’s too much! I came, I’m done cumming! Sir I came, now please give me a break!”

He chuckles at my predicament, leaning down and brushing his lips against my ear as he whispers, “You are mine to use however I want. I’m not going to stop until you’re a sobbing, blubbering mess.” The sound I make at this is in between a cry and a moan, since he is fucking me so hard and fast that I’m immediately being dragged toward another orgasm. The sound I make causes him to groan and add, “And even then, I might not stop. Not until I’m good and ready to stop watching you cum. You have been such a naughty fucking girl today, and I am going to teach you a fucking lesson.”

I cry out at his words in protest, hopelessly squirming against the restraints as he fucks me closer and closer to my next orgasm. The closer I get, the more uneven my breathing becomes. I look up at him, pleading with him desperately. “Sir, please don’t do this to me! I’ve learned my lesson, I promise!” I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut, fighting hard to hold back my next orgasm threatening to hit me like a brick wall.

“I don’t believe you,” Eddie growls, thrusting harder as he feels me tensing up beneath him. He looks down at me heartlessly. “You’re going to cum for me. Right now.”

As soon as he tells me, no, fucking commands me to cum, I’m seeing stars. I can feel his eyes locked on my face, committing the look of pleasured agony on my face to memory. My moans are stuck in my throat with the intensity and my entire body is shaking and twitching and squirming. The sounds coming from his cock slamming into my pussy is fucking filthy. As my orgasm slows down, my limbs go limp and I am panting hard, trying like hell to catch my breath.

He finally pulls out of me, leaving me twitching and whimpering from how hard I just came. My eyes flutter open at him, thanking him wordlessly for finally giving me a break. As I lay there with my chest heaving, believing he’s going to actually have some mercy on me, he lets his eyes trail down my body and fall onto my pussy. More specifically, my swollen and twitching clit.

The sight makes him look at me like he was just given a new favorite toy. “Oh look, your poor little clit is just begging for my attention. I’ve been so mean to neglect it!” He slowly glides his fingers down my thigh, looking into my eyes and chuckling, “I hope you didn’t think I was done with you, sweetheart.” He quickly removes his own shirt before ever so gently sliding his fingers up and down my folds, before landing on my clit and gently circling it, but not quite touching yet. He leans down and kisses my chest, working his lips all the way down to my pussy, ignoring every one of my whimpers. He places a single, very gentle kiss directly on my clit as a warning for what’s to come, making me jerk and squeal.

“Please Sir, my I’m way too sensitive for this!” I beg, a full pout on my lips. “I’m too sensitive..”

Eddie laughs in amusement at my protest. His tongue darts out to flick at my clit, making me gasp and jerk my hips again. “Oh baby,” he breathes, “You’re always too sensitive for me.” He smirks and flattens his tongue, slowly licking from the very bottom of my entrance to the top of my clit, making me squirm and whine, unable to peel my eyes off of him. He suddenly pulls back, bringing his hand down to slap me 5 sharp times on my pussy, which makes me throw my head back with a long groan and flinch with every hit. “I don’t remember asking for your fucking opinion, though, slut.” He leans back down, placing his lips directly over my clit and sucking just barely, before rolling his tongue slowly. He only gives me about 2 seconds of soft touches before starting his assault. He violently lashes his tongue against my clit, then starts sucking hard, rolling his tongue with force.

I squeak and jerk, before ungodly sounds start falling from my mouth. My arms and legs pull against their restraints and I do my very best to buck my hips away from his ministrations. I’m babbling nonsense and moaning lewdly, already fully overstimulated and he’s barely even started eating me out.

He groans at the sight of me squirming, sending vibrations through my clit. He’s unable to stop himself from groaning out some more as he hears every one of my incoherent babbles for mercy. He keeps going at a steady pace, pushing me close to another orgasm. He could spend days down there, the sound and sight of me right now just too sweet for him to not enjoy every single second of it.

I’m internally panicking as I near the edge of another orgasm. My breathing is fast and shallow and I can barely get a single word of my begging to actually sound like a real word. “Please, please no this is too intense! I can’t!” I pant out, praying he can understand me between my moaning and panting and how much I’m stuttering through my words.

Eddie chuckles darkly at my pleas, happy that he’s got me exactly where he wants me. He pulls back just enough to lick a long strip up my entire pussy again and looks up at me with a smirk. When I look back at him, I gasp slightly. His eyes are fucking black, his pupils are so huge that all the pretty brown in his eyes have disappeared. There wasn’t a single ounce of leniency in his features. “You can’t handle it, huh?” he taunts, laughing. “It’s too intense, baby?” He pouts at me mockingly, using his fingertips to gently rub my clit, keeping me from getting a real break, but I’m grateful to be able to catch my breath at least.

I whimper at him pathetically and nod, looking at him with tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. “Yes! Please, please no more Sir, it is too intense, it is! I won’t be able to handle cumming like this!” My words are flying out of my mouth as fast as I can say them, hoping beyond all hope that he listens to me this time.

He watches me intently as I beg and the tears threatening to spill down my face are obvious, but his eyes don’t soften one bit. If anything, they seem to somehow darken even more. He shakes his head slowly, his lips curling into another sinister smile as he whispers, “Oh, it’s so cute when you beg me like that. I think you’re finally starting to learn your lesson in respect.” And with that, he returns his tongue to my clit, thrashing it cruelly against me and wrapping his lips around, sucking and rolling his tongue to elicit more sweet, desperate cries from my mouth.

I let out a strangled moan as soon as he continues, and my orgasm hits me almost immediately. I struggle and thrash against the restraints, this orgasm feeling 100 times more intense than the others. Tears fall onto my cheeks as the pleasure turns into pure torture, words lost in my throat yet again as all I can do is scream and moan and take it.

His tongue works up a frenzy, not giving me a moment's rest as he forces my orgasm to be drawn out as long as he can. When I finally come down from my high, he looks up at me to see my ruined face. Pink cheeks, tear stains, red and swollen lips from how much I’ve been chewing on them. His hand moves to gently rub my pussy lips, licking his lips at the sight of me. “That’s it, my little slut. You belong to me. I can do whatever I want with you. Right?”

His question is a test, and I am desperate to pass with flying colors. “Yes! Yes Sir, I belong to you! You own me, please!” I look at him with pleading eyes, a few tears leaking down my cheeks again as my legs tremble uncontrollably.

To my utter relief, his eyes finally soften towards me and he smiles up at me. He pulls himself up to kiss my lips gently, slowly sliding two fingers inside of me, thrusting them deep and hard, but slow. “That’s it, good girl. I’m so glad to see you’ve finally learned your manners, baby.” He pulls back to watch me, enjoying the sight of me being so submissive as he slowly slides his fingers in and out of me with force. After a minute or so, he talks gently to me. “I’m going to leave you tied up, sweetheart. I know you’re being good now, but you understand that I have to finish your punishment, right? I can’t let you off the hook just because you’re finally being my good girl.”

I’m so grateful that he’s finally being gentle with me that it takes me a good few seconds to process what he says. My eyes are glossed over and my brain is so fuzzy; I can feel myself drifting into subspace with every passing moment. He can see it in me too, he knows me so well. I sniffle when I finally realize what he’s said and he’s expecting a response, slowly nodding my head. My voice is hoarse from all the sounds I’ve been making. “Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir.”

He hums, visibly pleased with my response. “That’s better baby, I know you are.” He pulls his fingers out of me before standing up, turning towards the night stand again. He opens up a drawer and pulls out my arch nemesis: The Magic Wand. I can never handle that without begging and sobbing for mercy, even without it being a part of a punishment. Even when he tries to be nice, it’s always too much.

He turns back towards me, searching my face for any sign of resistance, just to make sure that I really have learned my lesson and I plan on being a good girl. The second I see the wand my cunt clenches and I let out the tiniest whimper, gulping nervously. A single tear falls down my cheek again and he brings his hand up to wipe it away. “I know baby, I know.” He says softly before turning around and plugging it into the wall.

The moment he turns back around and switches it on, he presses it against my clit, watching every single expression on my face. I jerk against the restraints and feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. He bites his lip for a second before groaning out, “Ohh, that’s it baby. Feel that?” I can only whine at him in response, struggling to keep my eyes on his but somehow I manage, although tears are threatening to spill out any second from the overstimulation. “You’re going to cum so hard for me, aren’t you baby?” He presses it into my clit more, making tiny circles, causing me to cry out and arch my back, my entire body pulling against the restraints whether I want them to or not.

“Yes!” I cry out in response to him, although it barely sounds like a word. My entire body feels like it’s being electrocuted, and I can’t help but shake violently as I’m being thrust into an orgasm within seconds of him asking. A scream rips itself out of my throat and I feel like I’m going to explode. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he hears me, groaning out, “That’s right, fucking scream for me.”

I feel like this orgasm is never going to end. My vision is going black, or maybe my eyes are just squeezed shut, I can’t even tell anymore. The way I scream is absolutely primal, tears rolling down my face and my crying turns to sobbing. My entire body is full of electricity and suddenly, I feel it. My body is fucking convulsing (as much as it can against the rope, anyway) as fluid starts squirting from my pussy. I feel it pool up underneath me and I hear a gasp and a groan from Eddie. “Thaaaat’s it baby, look at you fucking go!” he sounds like he could cum just from the sight of me. As soon as it ends, he finally turns the vibrator off and pulls it away. I feel like I can finally fill my lungs with oxygen again.

When my eyes open, Eddie and I stare at each other with the exact same look of utter shock on our faces. That’s the first time I have ever done that. His look of surprise is short-lived though because when he sees the mess I’ve made on his hand, he drops the vibrator to inspect his hand in the light. He licks off every finger with a smack of his lips and a wicked fucking grin on his face. My face is frozen still, especially after seeing him do that. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes, staring down at me with a mixture of awe and something wild in his eyes.

I close my eyes and a few more tears fall out onto my cheeks as my breathing is still a bit ragged. I feel his hands gently wipe away my tears and he whispers, “Baby, look at me.” My eyes flutter open halfway, nibbling my bottom lip. “Color?” He asks, his eyes look so warm and caring at this moment. I lean into his hand on my cheek with a tiny smile and a sniffle.

“Green.. I promise I’m okay. That was just… I don’t know if I can do that again.” I shake my head at him to emphasize my words, but I feel much more grounded after the check-in.

He smiles gently at me, nodding back as his expression softens. “I know baby, I know that was a lot. But you’re doing so well.” He puts two fingers under my chin, making sure my eyes stay trained on his so that I really hear every word. “You can do this, sweetheart. I know you can.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead before lifting back up, a stern expression on his face again. “Now. I want you to repeat after me. Say ‘Please Sir, I want you to make me cum like that again.’” He watches me closely, licking his lips as he waits for my response.

I close my eyes as he kisses my forehead, nodding through his encouragement. But my eyes fly right back open with his last demand and my voice gets caught in my throat again. Even as fucked out and obedient as I am now, my heart rate spikes at the thought of having to do… that again. Still, I swallow hard before somehow forcing the words out. “Please, Sir… I want you to make me cum like that again.” My lower lip is quivering as I whimper the words out.

He groans as I say this, his cock twitching noticeably. His lips suddenly crash into mine, kissing me roughly. As he pulls back, he’s got that wild look in his eyes again as they trace over every inch of my body. “That’s my good girl. I’m going to make you cum one more time while I use that throat of yours.” He climbs onto the bed again, facing away from the headboard and putting each of his legs on either side of my head. I open my mouth and stick my tongue out, the heavenly sound of his own moan flooding my ears as he slowly lowers himself into my mouth, making sure to glide himself all along my tongue on the way in. He pumps his cock in and out of my mouth at a steady pace, slowly working its way towards my throat. After a couple minutes of this, he feels himself getting close to his own release. He leans over and grabs the wand again, turning it on and growling, “Get ready, slut. Knock on the headboard if you really need to breathe.”

He shoves his cock deep into my throat and I can’t help but gag, struggling to breathe through my nose and relax the muscles in my throat. “Fuck!” he groans out, before he pulls the hood of my clit back, something he knows is the most cruel thing he could do, and presses the wand firmly into my clit. Every single muscle in my body cries out in agony, begging to be allowed to squirm away from the sensation. I try to scream out but it makes me gag, and I lose my ability to breathe at all as my lungs refuse to work anymore from all of the stimulation. Too much stimulation. My brain feels like it’s short circuiting. Just as my lungs are starting to burn from lack of oxygen, I cum somehow even harder than I did the last time. I feel like I’m on fire and being shot up into icy space at the same time. I can’t move, I can’t scream, I can only cum. Once again, I feel myself start to squirt, and it all becomes too much. I start gagging on him again, and I hear him fucking whimper before groaning. His cum shoots down my throat and I have no choice but to swallow it.

He turns the vibrator off and throws it to the side, pulling his cock out quickly as I gasp for breath, taking in huge gulps of air as he makes quick work of my restraints. He slowly guides my arms down and gently rubs my shoulders, then helps me close my legs and gently rubs my hips. He whispers, “I know baby, I know,” as I wince from the pain of finally being able to move my limbs and them being so sore.

The second he looks me in the eyes and is about to ask how I feel, my vision goes blurry and I’m confused for a second before I actually realize I’m crying again. I can’t stop it though, my body is so exhausted and my brain is so fuzzy and every part of me is buzzing and sore. He instantly wraps me up in his arms, cradling my head against my chest and kissing my head. “Good girl,” he whispers to me, and his voice back to the normal, sweet and kind Eddie I hear every day. “You are such a good girl, I am so fucking proud of you, baby.”

This was easily the most intense punishment I have ever been through, and he knows it. I’ve never squirted before in my life. I can barely even hear him whispering reassuring words to me over my own ragged breathing and sniffles, but I do notice that I am clinging onto him for dear life. He holds me close, rocking me gently back and forth. He kisses me on the top of my head again, and his voice starts to soothe every ounce of unrest in my body.

“Shh, shh.. It’s okay baby, I know it was rough, that was a really hard lesson. But you did so good.. I’m so so proud of you, baby.” He slowly takes his hand off of my head, leaning back enough so that he can wipe away the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs. Then he cups my cheeks in his hands and kisses all over my face. He starts at my forehead, then my nose, then both of my cheeks, and over my eyes. He is so gentle with every kiss, and about halfway through my tears stop falling and a little tiny giggle escapes my lips.

I open my eyes to look up at him and his heart breaks when he sees my eyes red from so many tears and my cheeks absolutely covered in tear stains and blotchy pink skin. “Was that too much for you?” he whispers, talking so softly, as if his tone itself could blow me away if it was too loud or firm.

I smile softly and shake my head, still sniffling but just barely. His eyes look so pretty, I could get lost in them and never want to find my way out. His eyebrows are furrowed with concern and I can see his eyes scanning my every feature to make sure I really am okay. My heart swells about a thousand times its normal size. “No, it wasn’t too much, Eddie. It was so, so good. It was easily the most intense thing I’ve ever felt in my life, but it wasn’t too much. I promise. I just need lots of love now, okay?” I smile at him again with a little scrunch of my nose, trying to make extra sure he knows I really am okay.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath but I can see the relief on his face as he brings my head into his chest again, holding his hand there to cradle it as he tickles gentle circles across my back with his other hand. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’ve got you. I love you so much.”

I close my eyes again because the sensation on my back feels like heaven. I mumble into his skin, “I love you too. So much, Eddie.” I start trying to regulate my breathing, every deep inhale brings his delicious scent of woodsy musk and cigarettes. Once I feel like I’m returning back into a normal headspace, I pull back a little and show him my wrists and point to my legs. They’re still red and indented from the rope. “Can you help these feel better please?”

He smiles softly down at me, his eyes and fingers running over every single mark on my skin, before nodding. “Of course, baby. Let’s go into the bathroom and I’ll take care of you.” He gets off the bed before picking me up and helping me wrap my legs around him. I press my face into his neck and wrap my arms around him and can’t help but smile. I could honestly live like this, in his embrace. Smelling his skin. His hair tickling my face. Feeling his chest against mine. It’s all perfection.

Once we get to the bathroom, he slowly puts me down and spins me gently to face the mirror. He looks into it at me, smiling and petting my hair to smooth it down. “There’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, “You are so perfect.” My face turns a bright ride and I hide my face in my hands, unable to help myself.

“Eddie!” I giggle out. He always knows how to make me smile and completely fluster me at the same time. I gently peek at him in the mirror through my fingers, his smile is so sweet as he watches me. He chuckles at my reaction, gently placing his hands on my hips and spinning me around to look at him. I lower my hands and stare into his eyes, practically entranced.

“You’re so cute, baby.” He smiles and kisses my forehead again, bringing each of my hands into his and up to his lips, kissing each one so gently. He guides me over to sit down on the toilet seat, before turning to the tub and turning on the water. “Let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?”

As I sit down and watch the tub start to fill, I nod and lean forward to rest my head against his side, wanting to never stop touching him. “Yeah…yes please, I’d love a bath.”

We wait in silence for a few minutes before he checks the temperature. Deeming it perfect, he grabs my hands again to help guide me towards the tub. As I sit down and relax into the water, he smiles at me and says, “Ahhhhh, that’s better, isn’t it? Feel good baby?”

I nod and smile up at him and watch as he grabs the shower head to bring it down. He sits down next to the tub, turning on the shower head and he is so careful about wetting my hair without letting water drip onto my face.

He takes his time, massaging my scalp slowly and with the perfect pressure as he shampoos it. After another few minutes of silence, I hear him starting to hum one of the songs from that Black Sabbath album, Master of Reality. I can’t tell which song it is, though. My eyes start to droop and I giggle a little at the end of the song as he’s slowly rinsing the soap out of my hair.

“You’re going to make me fall asleep if you keep this up, you know. Warm water, massages, and music? You’re spoiling me, Eddie.” I say, my eyes closed still to make sure no soap or water gets into my eyes as he rinses my hair off.

He chuckles softly at me, pressing a kiss to my now-clean hair. “I could do this for hours, baby. Plus, you deserve to be spoiled. Trust me.” I sigh in content and lean into his kiss, feeling utter bliss in the calm of the moment.

Once he is done making every inch of me nice and clean, continuing the whole time to give me praise and making sure he is absolutely as gentle as he can be, he drains the tub for me and helps me stand up. He wraps me in a towel and gives me a great big hug, and it takes him a few seconds to let go. He picks me up again, bridal style this time, and brings me back to the bedroom despite my giggling at him that I am able to use my feet again.

“I know you can, but I’ve got you baby, don’t you even worry about it.” He presses another kiss into the side of my head, which is probably the thousandth kiss of the evening. Not that I’m complaining for a second. He helps me get dressed into my comfiest pajamas and then dresses himself in boxers and a random t-shirt. He turns to me when he’s finished, cocking his head at me with a smile.

“So…I call for pizza, you pick the movie?” he asks, already reaching for the phone. Yeah… I’m so spoiled.

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