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#my bed may be a metaphor
shopcat · 5 months
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everyone knows i like big cats like just as a literal they're little babies to me YEAH YEAH but i also love the like ... metaphorical way they appear in art as a subject and certain narratives especially when the lines are a bit blurred and there's something unsure about it. like a character who for all intents and purposes is a perfectly average incredibly human person who seems basically normal and then there is this fuck off big animal sitting directly behind them staring right at you and how the framing of this animal can change it from a monster stalking its prey to a caretaker protecting its charge to something being kept at bay for you the audiences protection to something being kept on an invisible leash I LOVE IT. i love it. this massive predator with superficial similarities to a house cat that could kill you but doesn't.
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slippery-minghus · 2 days
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ebery time i let myself doze off on the couch then wake up gasping, i tell myself i need to stop doing it.
but, reliably, every night, i get too sleepy and too comfy and can only convince myself to get up after i've dozed a little. i need a little sleep to give me the strength to get up. but then. i wake up. panicked and out of breath. i'm so fucking sick of it.
#it's minutes of sleep i could be getting properly. in bed with my nightguard in. if only i could get myself to bed ON TIME#but my bedtime routine is so long and complicated#it takes 20-30 minutes to get ready and i'm sleepy NOW. desperately sleepy. unable to keep my eyes open another second#i know it's just what happens when the melatonin gummy i took hours before finally kicks in#it's (thankfully) not a sign that my sleep apnea is so poorly managed that i'm not able to properly rest#but without the giant hunk of plastic i shove in my mouth every night#the instant my body goes slack with sleep my throat closes#and i wake up even more exhausted. feeling disgusting and rattled.#all because i greedily stole those few minutes of sleep#i just need to make myself deny the immediate satisfaction of dozing off when i Get So Sleepy#What's The Harm? i say every time. and every time i wake up gasping and full of rot#i can't deny myself the indulgence#i've been reading Dead Weight by Emmeline Clein and there's a poem or a metaphor here#somewhere in my fatness and my indulgence in things that hurt me and the way i must've done this all to myself by being fat#sleep apnea is a fat diseas after all right?? not the result of a genetic defect i inherited from my father#the very person who was the first to tell me i indulged too much#well look at me now paul. i indulge too much on sleep. i indulge too much on breathing. i learned from you but i still can't do it right.#you couldn't do it right either but it's still my fault that what you taught me is wrong. why didn't it magically work when it was me?#i may no longer be getting fatter—and this disease only started rotting within me after my weight stabilized in my early 20s—but i still#keep stuffing myself with indulgences i evidently don't deserve. they wouldn't hurt if i DID deserve them right? but i only continue to#cause myself harm. just like you said i always would didn't you dad? you're right that i'm doing this to myself#so desperate to give in to my body's needs. but those needs are Too Big. they take up Too Much Space.how could indulging them ever be right?#personal#okay i think my body has calmed down from suffocation panic now 🙃#time to go through the grueling 30 minute process of getting ready for bed. maybe i'll even get to sleep on time
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monstermoviedean · 2 months
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i can't believe they did that. i can't believe that happened.
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silhouettecrow · 4 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 345
Adjective: Helpless
Noun: Poppy
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Helpless: unable to defend oneself or to act without help; uncontrollable
Poppy: a herbaceous plant with showy flowers, milky sap, and rounded seed capsules, and many poppies contain alkaloids and are a source of drugs such as morphine and codeine
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flowers-that-sing · 1 year
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(this whole post is about sex/sexual implication in art/writing/music, theres nothing graphic, its pretty much just the word sex over and over again, but heres ur warning)
ok yeah lots of things are metaphors for sex.
but when sex is a metaphor for other things??? and the piece explores a subject through sex/sexual implications/terms in a meaningful way, using it as a tool to sculpt a topic, thats just so !!! its so cool.
(this is not to say sex is bad on its own or anything, or to dismiss its importance to many people, or imply that it's shameful when not used in this way, i'm just sharing a Thing i Like in writing that i think is cool, this isnt meant to be a controversial post or anything)
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aluciahaz · 1 month
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may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.
Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!
once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3
oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)
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greed never stops
—vox x f!reader
—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage
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vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.
he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.
but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.
but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.
and you were the one he needed it from.
your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.
“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”
those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.
“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.
“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?
“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”
“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.
he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.
vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.
he just didn’t deserve it.
he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.
“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.
his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.
his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.
which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.
“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.
“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.
“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.
“such a good boy.”
those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.
he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.
sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.
it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.
it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.
“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.
vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.
but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.
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(i totally didnt forget to tag)
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck
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babydollmarauders · 4 months
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WRAPPED UP IN A BOW — QUINN HUGHES
quinn hughes x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which y/n welcomes Quinn home with a gift
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected). (3.1k words)
notes: welcome to day 8 of the 12 days of kinkmas!
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a week. seven days. one hundred and sixty-eight hours.
that’s how long my husband has been out of town.
four road games done and over with and now he’s finally coming home to me.
in retrospect, getting married at the very end of the summer wasn't the best decision Quinn and i have ever made. with no time for a honeymoon before he had to be back in Vancouver for training camp, and then hockey season starting, we've had barely any time to relax and bask in the joy of being newlyweds.
which may be why i'm feeling particularly in the holiday spirit. one more home game and then we get almost an entire week to laze around, celebrate the holidays, and just enjoy the life of being newly married.
i’ve spent the last three days decorating our apartment; a wreath on the front door, our tree with ornaments hung gently on the branches, mistletoe over every doorway. miscellaneous holiday themed trinkets are scattered throughout our home.
but my favorite part of the past few days isn’t the decor, or the music i’ve had blasting, or even the christmas cookies i baked. rather, it’s the idea that popped into my head while shopping for all of the said decor online; when i found a body bow.
and after numerous hours, which were impatiently waited through, and countless youtube tutorials, i sit perched upon the end of my bed, wrapped snugly in the red satin bow.
my breasts are tied high and taut, pushed together tightly by the soft fabric and half covered by the oversized bow; while a strip of the satin reaches over one shoulder and through my legs. technically, all intimate areas are covered, but with one tug of the bow, it would all unravel, leaving me naked and ready. a present for my husband to enjoy.
my eyes are glued to my phone, Quinn’s location dancing across the screen, getting closer and closer to our apartment with each passing second.
it’s not often that i would be awake so late, waiting up for him. often times, i’m asleep when he gets back from a roadie, only waking up when i feel his strong arms wrap around me in bed.
as his location pings at our apartment complex, my heart beat rises in my chest, excitement pulling at my every atom. i’m shaky, phone haphazardly tossed onto my nightstand before i get into position; legs crossed and my weight leaned back on my hands.
it feels as though time is dragging on, towing through metaphorical mud. seconds feel like hours as i wait to hear him enter our apartment.
all the lights are off leading into our room, adding to the illusion that he’ll find me fast asleep.
i’m so lost in thought, knees bouncing in exhilaration, that it isn’t until i hear footsteps bounding down the hall that i realize he’s arrived. blood whirls in my ears, my skin heating up at the mere thought of his touch.
“no, she’s probably asleep.” his words carry through the echoey hallway, “Jack, i’m not waking my wife so you can ask her relationship advice. just call her tomorrow.”
i bite back a laugh as i listen to the one sided conversation with his brother. Quinn’s voice turns hushed as he gets closer to our bedroom, obviously attempting not to ‘wake’ me.
the doorknob twists, the door creaking open to display my husband. his head is down, phone pressed to his ear as he carries his road bag into the room. even from here i can see the crease thats formed between his threaded brows, dark bags accentuated under his green eyes.
he turns, gently closing the door behind him with minimal noise, but when he turns back around, his eyes meet mine. his eyes widen, lips parting with a gentle huff of air before he mutters a quick parting to his brother.
“i gotta go, just call her tomorrow.” the call is quickly hung up, his phone set on the dresser with his bag, never breaking eye contact.
“welcome home.” i watch with a crooked smirk as his eyes rake over my figure, slowly dragging down my body before scanning his way back up.
“fucking shit.”
a giggle rises up my throat at his curse, his steps towards me hurried. he sinks down to his knees, eyeing the intricate bow that graces my body. with his hands finding my knees, he carefully pulls my legs apart so that he can fit between them.
“shit, baby,” he pauses, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment, “this all for me?”
i nod, peering down at him with the most innocent eyes that i can summon.
“mhm,” my tone is quiet but sultry, “played so well, and i missed you so much.”
he stands, towering over me now with a dark expression, his pupils blown out in lust.
“yeah? you missed me?” he questions, coaxing a nod of my head, “how bad?”
“so bad, Quinny.” i whine, hands grasping at his tie.
“did you touch yourself? you push your fingers into your pretty pussy? imagine they were mine as you made yourself cum in our bed?”
his words elicit a broken whimper from my throat, my eyelids fluttering as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck, forcing me to tip my head up to him.
“did you imagine my head between your thighs?” his voice drops, “my tongue licking your wet cunt? making you scream?”
my legs are shaking to close, to clench together and bring some much needed relief to my soaked core; but his body blocks me from doing so.
“yes.” i breathe out, eyes closing as he dips down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss.
his tongue slips past my parted lips, the result of a sudden gasp after his fingers curl into my hair, tugging just slightly.
the kiss is messy and deep, tongue’s tangling and pushing against each other, and when he pulls away, saliva coats my lips.
“lay back, baby.”
i drop back at his demand, hair sprawling across the soft mattress behind my head, and watch as best i can as my husband lowers back down to his knees until i can no longer see him.
it’s not but a second later that i feel his soft lips brush against my inner thigh, kissing a path up my leg. an unignorable pulse sparks between my thighs, thumping harder with each kiss, as he gets closer and closer to my wet heat.
wanton moans break the silence of the room, my body quivering with lustful anticipation; but before he can reach the spot in which i need him most, he pulls back, steadily repeating the process on the opposite leg.
a muted whine pulls from my lips as he shifts his path, bypassing my covered core and kissing up my torso. our eyes lock in a heated exchange, neither set looking away, as his open mouthed kisses reach an end, the oversized bow blocking his path.
but just when i think he’ll back away, he captures one tail of the bow between his teeth, slowly pulling back to unravel the satin knot. the glossy fabric falls off my chest, pooling around my body, revealing my bare breasts. my nipples are peaked with desire, stiffened by a mixture of lust and the cold air.
Quinn stares down at me, admiring my exposed figure, before he continues his journey, pressing wet kisses up my sternum. as he reaches my throat, he begins sucking, teeth grazing against my skin before he presses his tongue against it, pulling away to blow cool air against the spot.
shivers travel down my spine, my back arching up into him as he finally presses his lips against mine once more.
“so beautiful.” he mumbles, his hot breath fanning across my lips, swollen and indented with the mark of my teeth.
dragging himself back down to his knees, my jaw slackens as his breath hits my core.
“you’re dripping for me, baby.”
his tongue darts out, licking a slow stripe up my cunt, and my head tips back further into the mattress, my legs pulled over his shoulders as he groans.
“you really are a fucking gift.” he growls, his fingertips tightening in a bruising grip on my thighs.
my breath catches in my throat, blood rushing to my head as his tongue flattens against my clit. he wiggles it back and forth, softly playing with the bud of nerves.
my hands fly forward, tangling into the fluffy waves of hair that fall onto his forehead. as his tongue tenses, trailing down to flick into my entrance, he spreads my wetness, earning a harsh tug of his hair.
my grip coaxes a laugh of confidence from my husband, his chuckles reverberating through my core, and a screamed cry of pleasure echoes off of our bedroom walls, his name falling from my lips like a solemn prayer.
“Quinn, please,” i whimper, a single digit swiping through my wetness and making my voice falter into a high pitched moan.
“doing so well for me, baby.” his praises set my skin alight, heartbeat thumping in my throat.
his middle finger delves slowly into me, curling up into my g-spot as his lips enclose gently around my clit. pumping in, he slowly gets me ready, slipping his index finger in when he deems me lubricated enough.
my thighs close around his head, his free hand snaking his way around to push my leg open, a choked sob of arousal leaving my throat.
i can feel my orgasm creeping up on me, my stomach tying in knots as my eyes roll back.
suckling at my clit, he rolls it softly between puckered lips, his fingers alternating between hooking upwards and scissoring my cunt, slowly stretching me out and preparing me for his cock.
as his fingers speed and his tongue begins to circle and flick against my clit, my legs shake, hands gripping tighter into his hair while curses fall from my lips.
“Quinn,” tears gather along my waterline at the immense wave of pleasure that rolls through my body, “oh my god, right there!”
the tips of his fingers push against my g-spot with every thrust, my back arching as i can feel myself get closer and closer to the edge.
my husband moans, vibrations carrying through my core and spurring me over the edge. my walls tighten around his fingers, trapping them inside of me, and my hips grind against his soft lips as i reach my release.
heavy breathing sounds through the room as i lay back in ecstasy, recovering from my intense orgasm. pulling his cum coated fingers from my dripping pussy, Quinn’s lips pull away from my swollen clit with a pop.
“you taste like heaven.” he hums, coaxing my eyes to open, watching him suck his fingers clean of my release.
“Quinny,” i breathe out, hands reaching out to pull him forward by his tie as he rises from his knees, “i need you.”
“i’m right here, pretty girl.” he gruffs, a hand resting on the bed next to my head, holding himself up as he hovers above me.
he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the spot where my jawline meets my ear. trailing up until he reaches my chin, he suddenly diverts, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.
our lips dance together, his free hand grazing up my body until he reaches my breasts. his thumb rubs over my stiffened nipple, circling it lightly before pinching, the stark contrast drawing a moan from deep within my throat.
i can feel his erection pressing against my upper thigh, my hips jolting up into his in order try and relieve some tension.
pushing lightly at his chest, Quinn immediately backs away, worry filling his eyes, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”
rather than answer, i sit up, beginning to untie his tie. i pull it free from his collar before my hands push at his suit jacket.
“take it off,” i whine as my hands fumble, “all of it, Quinn. i need you. i need to see you.”
his hand cups my cheek, thumb rubbing over my cheekbone as he chuckles, eyes looking into mine.
“get up on the pillows,” he gruffs, watching with fervor as i follow his command, kicking the long forgotten satin fabric off the bed and onto the floor. “good girl.”
sitting with my back propped on the pillows, i watch my husband undress; his suit jacket tossed on the dresser, his button up dropped to the floor as well as the undershirt, before finally the clink of his belt sounds through the silent room.
i admire his upper body as he undresses, mentally praising all the hard work and training that’s led to his muscular arms and tight physique. my mouth waters and i yearn to press kisses to his pale torso, but i stay rooted in my spot, knowing better than to move.
fully naked, his cock stands tall, fully erect with a pink tip, precum beading at the slit, and i don’t think before my hand reaches out, wrapping around his length as he crawls over me.
i squeeze just slightly, my thumb running over his tip and spreading the precum, earning a hiss of satisfaction from my husband.
“stop,” he groans, vocal chords tight, “you want me to fuck you, right?”
i peer up at him with innocence, nodding my head quickly.
“then don’t be a greedy little slut,” my hand drops at his words, allowing him to take a deep breath, “hands and knees, baby.”
i scramble into position, craning my neck to watch his facial expressions as he grabs his base, guiding his cock through the lubricant of my residual cum.
my body shivers as he glides himself through my slick folds, wetting his dick thoroughly. he slides over clit, my legs instantly wobbling as i make a silent squeak.
“Quinn,” my voice shakes, but before i can continue, he’s pushing into me, my back contorting as he runs a hand over my spine.
“that’s it, baby,” he coos after i let out a loud moan, “take it like a good girl.”
i reach back with one hand, desperately grappling behind me for his touch. my request is granted when he grabs my hand, holding it in earnest as his other holds my hip.
“fuck me,” i cry, pushing backwards to sheath him entirely inside of me, “please, i need you to fuck me.”
Quinn clicks his tongue against his teeth, my head hanging forward as he stills, teasing me. i part my lips to begin begging again, but he silences me quick, pulling entirely out before slamming back into me.
he drops my hand in favor of gripping both hips, fucking into me with harsh and unforgiving thrusts.
my arms feel like jello beneath me, quivering with every graze of his tip against my g-spot, until finally i fall to my elbows.
his thighs smack against mine, each thrust pushing me further up the bed until i have to place my palms on the headboard, keeping me steady as my knees dig into the memory foam mattress.
“so fucking wet,” he grunts, pulling my focus to the lewd sounds of his cock sliding through my wetness, “my pretty fucking wife, so ready for me; so easy to please.”
i whine at the use of ‘wife’, the title still bringing goosebumps to the top of my flesh.
“yours,” i gasp, eyes rolling back as he slows his strokes, angling his hips for his cock to run over my g-spot, “all yours. your wife.”
“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he breathes, “you like being my wife? you like letting me fuck you and call you mine? forever.”
his hand slides to my front, sprawling over my stomach before dipping down to let his finger apply pressure to my pulsing clit.
“yes!” i squeal, hips jerking from the pleasure, “yes, Quinn, yes!”
his finger draws circles on my clit, thrusts speeding as i clench around him.
“who am i?”
my stomach fills with pressure, toes curling as my hair falls into my face.
“my husband!” i scream, legs shaking underneath me.
his finger never relents, my overworked clit tingling, and i can barely stutter out that i’m close before he’s leaning forward, pressing kisses to my sweat coated back.
his soft lips against my heated skin send me over the edge, my eyes drawing shut as i let out an intense breathy moan. my walls clench but his thrusts never ease, only fucking into me with more intensity as he chases his own high, and within a minute, he finds it.
his hips falter, his grip tightening on my hips as he lets out a strangled cry, ropes of cum spilling out of him and mingling with my own.
it’s silent as he stops, nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sound of him pulling out, before he lays down, finally allowing me to drop onto my stomach beside him.
a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, my face buried into the pillow beside him, and he reaches over to scoop me into his arms, helping turn my body until my head is resting in the crook of his neck.
“what a welcome home present.” he laughs, still out of breath, and i giggle into his neck.
“figured you might like that.” i yawn, eyes fluttering shut as i rest a hand on his chest, “well worth staying up.”
“hey,” he coos, head back away in order to look at me. i pry my eyes open, staring up into his, “don’t go falling asleep yet, baby. you need a bath.”
i groan, attempting to burrow further into him, “but i’m so tired.”
he rolls his eyes at my drawn out whine, gently nudging me off of him so he can stand up.
“i’m gonna go draw a bath and get some wine. you don’t fall asleep.”
i nod sleepily, pulling myself up in a sitting position to keep myself from dozing off.
it’s not but five minutes later that Quinn returns, helping me into his arms and carrying me into the bathroom. he sets me down into the hot water of the bubble bath, grabbing the wine glasses off the counter and handing them to me before he slips in behind me, taking his glass back.
having out a deep sigh, i relax into his chest, his free arm wrapping around the front of my waist.
“so,” i start, making him laugh at my tired tone, “how was the trip?”
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matchamiko · 18 days
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for your writing exercise drabbles may i request 28. "Take it, take everything I've got, it's all for you, only for you" with choso (ns/fw would probably work best for this one 🤭) thank you! i can’t wait to read what you come up with
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28. “Take it, take everything I’ve got, it’s all for you, only for you” + Choso
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Warnings: size kink, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, talking about anal, prone bone, half hearted degradation, one singular spank, afab reader (use of ‘girl’) .
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He’s too big. Everything about Choso is too big. His arms and those bulging shoulders, cradling the crest of your head feel like tree trunks. His chest - oh his chest with a smattering of fine hair brushing your back, rocking with the motion of his hips. Those thighs, soft and giving on the days you curl into his lap to read, are mean and flexing and cut up with crescent indents from your nails.
His cock. Too big, too thick and too annoyingly curved up so he’s gotta use those too big hips to angle it just right. And his too big hands; you’re audibly crying into one of them, spanning the curve of your chin and jaw as he barely holds you up.
The only thing small about Choso, especially right now; are the kisses he whispers to the top of your head and temple. Wet with saliva and sweat but sweet with the taste of your cum on his Cupid’s bow, it’s a stark contrast to the size of him looming over you, caging you in, boxing you on the bed.
“Stop squirmin’,” he doesn’t want you to, not really. Choso loves it when you kick your legs out either side of his, trying to rearrange yourself to fit his massive frame on top of you. He’s unforgiving when he’s got you prone beneath him, pillow tucked under your belly and hips, your hand grappling for his ass as a means to anchor yourself - and make him go faster.
You don’t often use your words, too shy or too empty brained to say much aside from his name; so you resort to the claws, the teeth, the tugs and pulls of his body to where you need him. And Choso always obliges, sometimes with a soft smile and sometimes with this disgustingly dark scowl.
Like the one he wears now, drumming his hips into your ass, cock digging down, down, down into your guts at such an intense, bed rocking strength; you’re sure he’ll break you. One hand cradles your throat, keeping you above the metaphorical water, kissing the tears of your orgasms away, whispering dirty little secrets into your ear when he thinks you’re too out of it to listen,
“Maybe I’ll fuck your ass soon, I promised didn’t I? If you’re good, I’ll do it,” his hair falls around his face, sticking to the sweat on his brow and your mouth opens with a panting wail, “that’a girl, take my cock - fuck,”
You slam your hand on to the mattress, legs jerking from where he’s got you pinned between his and Choso chokes when you cum suddenly, unexpectedly, delicious and wet around his cock.
“G’on,” fists appear either side of your head, sheets crumpling under his strength and all you can do is lay there and accept the brutal thrusts of your partner, one after the other, over and over. Swinging his hips, cock long and thick and creamy, stirring you up good and sending shocks deep into your gut. Vaguely, you can hear Choso muttering above you, back straight and brows furrowed in concentration; whispering those little secrets again that he thinks you can’t hear.
“Take it all, fuck baby, s’all for you, all of it,” you’re not sure if he’s talking about the aching stretch of his cock or the warmth of his cum spilling into you, hips never stuttering and arms strong as ever. A wounded groan echoes from his chest when you reach back with shaky hands, grabbing fistfuls of your ass and spreading yourself with a whimper,
“Mmm look at you, taking everything I’m givin’ you, so good for me aren’t you?” His debilitating thrusts slow to sloppy, lazy grinds, stroking the strain of your knuckles, “so eager too, super eager for me to fuck your ass, or even just this pretty little cunt; s’cute,”
You whine out a ‘shut up’ and Choso laughs, out of breath and chestily before smacking the creased fat of your ass and you squeal, clenching hard and pearly drops of his cum shine around the fill of his cock. A big hand runs up the plane of your back, smoothing through the sticky sweat that had accumulated there from the evening, tucking round the nape of your neck and with a sickening smile, he draws you up into a kiss. You hum and arch higher, lips smacking loud and hips rolling into his, ever enticing, always enticing for him. A singular roll of his lower body has you mewling once again, breathing a wet little gasp into his mouth,
“Wanna take it again huh? Dirty little thing aren’t you? Can’t ever make you happy unless you got my cum in your belly huh?”
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selarina · 7 months
Text
This is Part 2 because you guys asked
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This florist guy is a peculiar lanky character, who later revealed himself as Gojo Satoru, who is apparently the son of a rich guy, the grandson a rich guy. He descended from a whole lineage of rich men and women, and so, it seemed particularly odd that this scion of affluence was was cooped up in a barely running florist shop.
So, you didn’t end up texting the guy after he cheekily slipped his number on the card but you did get rather… intrigued?
There’s something so strange and unreal about him. Apart from the oddity, the lankiness, the outright boldness that could only be a result of a privileged upbringing, he’s also interested in you — and boldly so. It’s never truly happened to you before, even your current boyfriend took about 6 whole months of weighing out the pros and cons before asking you out. It feels nice, you do suppose.
You’re lounging on your bed, the red roses from the shop lying beside you on your bed table almost dead from the rejection of the apology you gave. And honestly, you thought not to put waste to such pretty flower. You intended to put it into a vase or an empty bottle but you never ended up doing it. It’s funny how you’ve managed to neglect them over the past few days. It seems like a cruelly fitting metaphor of your relationship.
you: remember that florist guy
yue: sighh
yue: yeah you haven’t shut up about him all week if you haven’t noticed
you: shut up i only mentioned him like twice
you: anyway
you: i’m pretty sure he told me he wished my boyfriend died
yue: WHAT
yue: he’s just like me fr <3
You sighed. He is just like her. She’s never liked your boyfriend and saw right through him to be the facade of a temporary high school relationship based on nothing but superficial optics that would hurt at least one of you on the way.
But now, at the very least, she felt safe knowing it won’t be you, regardless of how cruel and selfish that may be. She always prioritised only the people around her. It’s something you admire about her, you wish you could care about the people around you as much as she did.
You mulled over the prospect of texting the florist, Gojo Satoru. For starters, he’s clearly interested in you, and you’re clearly in an odd limbo of a relationship and the ethics of that are well… pretty grey. And also, he came off strong, bold and you’re just meh. The first taste of your bitter sweetness and he’ll run.
A week passes, the withering roses sit comfortably at the bottom of your trash bin, amid ruffled paper, tissues and other junk alike. You stil find yourself thinking about Gojo Satoru, pondering whether you should send him a message.
If he's going to run away, you reasoned, you don't see the harm. Well, you do see the harm for your current relationship but again, he's going to run. So, it doesn't truly matter. So, you text him.
---
A week elapsed, and you received no text back, it started to eat you alive just a bit. The single checkmark next to your message mocked you every time you opened the chat. Did he give you a dead phone number? Was he just being nice?
It's all too odd, and the memory of you meeting the guy starts to feel like something you made up. You try not to dwell on it much, focusing on school, chores, sports, friends. Yet, after exhausting these distractions, you found yourself lying in bed, bones growing drowsy, thinking and dreaming about the man.
So, several days later, you do something slightly insane. Some might argue it was the most sane course of action, namely... Yue. But who cares? You're the only one here to judge.
You really, truly do not have interest in him but you do find yourself slowly taking the long route back home, walking past the flower shop every chance you get this week. But you always made sure to maintain a distance, choosing to walk on the other side of road, because like you said before — you aren't interested, just curious really.
And it would truly insane if this meant anything because he's just some guy you met while buying roses for your boyfriend.
You start to notice the little things about the shop itself — how it seems perpetually quiet, how the flowers displayed outside changing is the only sign of it being active, and then you eventually manage to catch a glimpse of Satoru inside, tending to the blooms like he's a practiced still from a movie.
You started to wonder if he was purposefully ignoring you. His quaint and unpopular shop always seemed devoid of customers. What did he do with all his time? From all the times you have crossed past the shop, not a single one of these instances has had any customers in them.
And one day, you decide to finally go back into the shop. No excuses prepared, you decide to make it all up as you go.
"Thought you'd never come in," he greeted you with a grin, leaning casually against the counter as if posing for a photograph.
You turned to scan every corner of the shop, checking to see if anyone else was present, reluctant to divulge your teenage romantic conundrum to an audience.
But to your relief, the shop was empty, save for the two of you.
You turned back to Satoru, noticing how his signature black sunglasses lay perched on the bridge of his nose. That's another one of those unusual things you've noticed about him, how he's always wearing his glasses.
One day you got late at school, having stayed back to hang some posters, so when you walked back you noticed the man still donning his glasses, even though the night had already set itself in the sky. You didn't understand why he would wear them. Perhaps, he has an eye condition.
"So, you didn't reply to my text," you say, striving for a casual tone as you pocketed your hands and approached the counter. You try to ignore the implications of him knowing you were walking past here all week.
He doesn't say anything, tilting his head, before he startles you by taking off into the backroom.
You wait there, confused, staring at the silent flowers beside you, as you wait and you wait.
He reemerged with a bag, rummaging through it for something? His phone, maybe?
Yes, his phone. "Right! Sorry! Sorry, I had my phone off," he explained, his eyes focused on his loading phone.
"You have one... right here," you remarked, removing your hand from your pocket and pointing at another phone resting on the counter.
He chuckles, "Huh, yeah. I do have another phone, but that's more for business stuff. My personal phone is the one you texted," he clarified, nodding toward the device in his hands.
"I see," you replied plainly, slipping your hand back into your pocket.
"I'm sorry for not responding. How about I make it up to you over some Mochi?" he grins. "Today? Right now?"
"Whoa, hold on. I didn't agree to go on a date with you. Remember, I have a boyfriend," you reminded him.
"Right," he grits with restrained chuckle. "Well, I didn't ask you out on a date. Just Mochi."
You can't help but raise an eyebrow at his response, amused by his persistence.
"Just Mochi, huh? Are you always this forward with all your customers?" you tease, finding yourself intrigued by him and all his boldness and audacity.
"Well, you're not really a customer today. Unless, you want to buy me flowers before our date?" he grins, abandoning his apron, as he comes from behind the counter.
"Hey! I said this wasn't a date," you find yourself yelling back at him, leaving only a slew of chortles as a response from him.
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binsito · 8 months
Text
service
pairing: kim seungmin x fem reader
synopsis: busy seungmin hires a cleaning lady to spiff up his home only to accidentally hire a topless maid ♡
word count: 2.5k
rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, oral sex (f & m receiving), usage of the word "mister" in a sexual setting, "good girl" is used once, slight body cumshot, slight power play ??
note - seungmin as a business man is very sexy to me.. i hope i articulated this story well bc imagining it in my brain was very 😵‍💫
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seungmin was a very busy man.
his career often had him working long, stressful hours. his success came with the sacrifice of his social life and maybe a couple of metaphorical gray hairs due to the constant goals he needed to reach for his company.
he was proud of his work, no matter how tedious his job may be. sure, he barely had time to himself but his mother had always advised him to become a hardworking, professional man and of course he listened. at such a young age, he found himself quickly getting promoted and making enough to live comfortably, he couldn’t complain. 
he normally came home late, toeing his shoes off at the front door and sighing as he made his way to his room. tugging at his tie to fall back into his bed. his house virtually looked unlived in. it was a lovely place, marble flooring with high ceilings but the only purpose it served him was to sleep and get ready for work the next day, an unbreakable cycle. he knew he needed to take better care of his home, at least dust it off here and there, but with what time? he could barely use the bathroom for five seconds before work emails would pour in. he figured it was about time he found someone to tend to the house for him, do his laundry, maybe have some meals prepared for him. he had the means to pay for such a service so why not? having a cleaning lady wouldn’t be such a bad idea?
he needed someone fast so he scrolled online for services while he unwinded in bed. the quicker someone could show up to fix his house up, the better. 
he ended up finding an ad that piqued his interest, clicking on it to get more information. the rate they were charging was a bit high but he assumed it was probably because they included more in their cleaning packages. “fuck it.” he sighed out as he booked the soonest available date, at least his house wouldn’t keep suffering from his negligence. __ the next morning, he was getting ready for work as he got a confirmation text message. “morning, mister kim. i’ll be arriving at 10:30, we’ll keep in touch” you had messaged. he was pleased at how quickly his appointment got approved and he finished up so he could greet you when you arrived.
eventually his doorbell rang and he walked over to open it, smiling at you as he moved aside to let you in. 
“hello, mister kim” you smiled as you introduced yourself. you held your hand out for him to shake. he returned the smile and shook your hand firmly, he seemed like a gentleman and his house was lovely. 
he explained everything around the house in great detail and gave you a small tour. it was a beautiful house, very modern and sleek although you could tell he barely lived in it, it lacked the warmth of a typical well loved home. “feel free to make yourself comfortable.. i left a list on the kitchen counter of things i need you to do. thank you for coming so punctually, shoot me a text whenever.” and with that, he was gone. grabbing his briefcase as he hurried out the door to start his day. you looked over the list: sweep and mop, change his bedsheets, iron his suits and dust off his bookshelves. cute, you thought as you noticed he signed his name on the bottom right corner in elegant cursive along with the date.
you started going around the house, working diligently, humming as you carefully dusted off his bookshelves. he seemed interesting, lots of books about philosophy and music. it seemed he was well versed in piano, having lots of classical sheet music scattered about. 
your mind began to wonder.. he was handsome, was he single? he had to be seeing someone right? engaged at the very least? but the more you looked around, the more you noticed the absence of a womanly presence in his home. just one toothbrush, one towel, no makeup lingering around, no forgotten panties or heels, nothing.
you weren’t one to jump to conclusions but normally one’s bedroom held a lot of information about someone.
is that why he requested your services? you wondered..
nothing wrong with hiring a topless maid to clean your house, it was always fun for both parties. he’d be satisfied with a cute little maid doing house chores and you’d be enjoying the attention and compensation. besides, he was pretty attractive and you couldn’t wait for him to get back home that evening to see what would ensue from him seeing you with your tits out for him.
but the problem was.. seungmin had no fucking idea he had requested services from a topless maid. he was tired, half asleep and just really needed his house to be cleaned. maybe he should’ve checked thoroughly, maybe he should’ve read between the lines when the site stated that they offered “special services”.
stupid, stupid mistake. so when he comes home and unlocks the door, the last thing he expected was to see you semi nude.
his jaw almost hit the damn floor, eyes widening while you acted so nonchalant. you glanced over at him with a soft smile, washing some dishes while your pretty tits were on display for him, buds hardening from the cold air in his house. “welcome back home, mister kim” you smiled coyly “h-hi um..” his brain was short circuiting, he didn’t even know what to say or do (he would be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly turned on to be greeted in such a way). “excuse me.. im going to set my things down in my office” he said, trying not to look down at your exposed chest as he tried to also hide his painful erection. he quickly walked off and checked the website again once he was alone in his office, laughing at how dumb his mistake was. if he had read carefully he would've noticed the implications of the website. “dammit seungmin.. you are quite the idiot..” he said to himself with a chuckle. however, it was a pleasant surprise even if it was unintentional on his part. he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a nice pair of tits. this was making him realize how badly he needed to take a vacation from work and go have some fun. maybe the lack of a relationship and intimacy was making him dizzy because he couldn’t help but think this was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him.
so he let out a sigh and straightened himself out before walking back out. you had since finished the dishes and were leisurely wiping down his countertop. “everything alright, mister kim?” you asked as you leaned over the counter, head leaning against one of your hands he nodded his head and sat at one of the bar stools “no.. everything’s fine. were you alright while i was gone?”
“mhm.. but i was excited for you to get back.. wanted you to compliment me on my job well done. did i do good mister kim? the house looks nice and tidy doesn’t it?” you giggled softly “oh yes.. looks a lot better thank you. you did a perfect job, good girl” “ah.. would you like me to take your shoes off for you? i mopped and i don’t want you to mess up my hard work..” you pouted. before he could answer, you had made yourself over to him, getting on your knees beneath him and pulling off his shoes. you could feel his gaze on you, he was a little tense and you found it absolutely amusing. you knew he was trying hard to act calm but you could see right through his demeanor. “oh mister kim.. you’re so hardworking.. i can tell.. poor thing. all work and no play..” you cooed. “want me to help with that? i know you want to touch.. just tell me mister kim..” you stated blatantly, no need to beat the bush when you could tell from the tightness of his pants that he was turned on. “a-are you sure?..” his voice was weak, he thought he sounded absolutely pathetic. “oh yes mister kim.. i’m at your service remember? i wanna play too you know? i think i deserve it for doing such a good job.. been waiting for you to get home to me allll day.. i worked extra hard for my reward..” you looked up at him through your eyelashes with a devilish smile. having sex with a client was never off the table for you, especially if you found them hot. if the situation arose and you were both down, you took the opportunity. you liked being taken care of after making their house look spotless. and lucky for seungmin, if he wanted to go further than just a little topless cleaning, you were more than willing to indulge him, he was just your type. seungmin couldn’t even recall the last time he had sex.. he had been so swamped with work that he had since forgotten about such a thing. he was normally so uptight and frustrated with work, the occasional jerking off on the weekend wasn’t even doing it for him anymore. he shyly leaned forward and cupped one of your breasts, giving it a firm squeeze before pinching the bud, his big hands were able to cup a decent handful and he was pleased at how warm they felt in his hand. “how can i help you mister kim?.. oh please tell me.. i’m dying to get to work..” his hands were basically trembling at the sound of your sultry voice. he could barely form a sentence, face flushed with his mouth slightly agape. this was absolutely preposterous but he was brimming with lust and want. he nervously started to undo his belt, pushing his bangs back a bit to get a better look at what he was doing.
there was nothing sexier than a man in a suit, freshly off work, a bit disheveled and tired from the work load but ready to to pull his cock out.
once his cock was visible to you, you bit your lip in anticipation. he was long, his cock leaking and an angry red, you were sure you could take care of his problem very well.
the length was making your mouth water, the idea of him being able to reach so deep inside of you making your thighs press together. “oh mister kim.. your cock looks delicious.. may i have some?” 
mouth open and willing to take him, you were so ready to taste him, hear the noises he would make. normally the shy ones were the loudest ones in your experience and you were excited to see him let go.
“go ahead.. make yourself right at home..” he says, cock twitching as he watched you inch towards his head, sucking on the tip and smiling against it “so fucking yummy..” you whispered before taking more of him, closing your eyes when his cock hit the back of your throat.
you had to use a hand to stroke the bit that didn’t quite fit, gagging on his cock as you coated him in spit. drool trickling down his shaft and collecting on his balls as you reached down to give him a tight squeeze.
“s-shit.. i-i’ll cum if you do that..” he whined, eyes glued on everything you were doing to him.
and that only encouraged you to do it again, feeling his thighs clench as a grunt left his throat, pulling off just before he reached his high and giggling at him as he protested.
“don’t you wanna be inside instead?” you got up from your knees, bending yourself over the counter.
his eyes traced over the swell of your ass that was peeking from under the useless skirt. you were wearing a flimsy thong that would surely rip if he tugged on it just a little bit
“c’mon mister kim.. please.. i want your cock inside me..” canting your hips at him to entice him further but he was already planning on shoving his dick inside you.
he stood up behind you, lifting your skirt further to finally reveal your ass, thong irritatingly in the way so he picked it aside as he rubbed his cock against you. he thought he was dreaming, maybe the lack of sleep was getting to him because there was no way in hell this was happening, not when it felt this good.
he gripped your hips tightly with one hand as his guided his cock to your hole, it was so tight, sucking his tip right in as he bit his lip in restraint. you opened your legs further for him as he pressed another inch in.
“fuckk mister kim.. can you feel how wet i am? my pussy is dripping..” and he definitely could feel it. he could also feel how you purposely clenched around him, how soft your walls were, how inviting and warm your hole was. he couldn’t wait to have you full stretched along his cock.
once he bottomed out, he gripped your hair, pulling you into an arch as he fucked into you, tits bouncing with every sharp snap of his hips
his bangs hanging over his eyes, sticking to his forehead as he muttered incoherent curses.
“s-shit! you’re taking my cock so well..” he groaned, losing himself in the feeling of you
he didn’t know how long he would last, his balls tightening with every thrust. he was soon to be a goner, it just felt so fucking unreal, all this pent up stress about to blow deeply inside your pussy. you moved against him, meeting his thrusts as you reached down to touch your clit, the ridges of his cock pushing against you so perfectly you thought your knees would give out.
“i-i’m gonna cum oh my god.. s-shit shit!” 
one final pump and he was cumming, quickly pulling out to spill over your asscheeks. he was out of breath yet still rock hard.
you got on top of the counter on all fours invitingly, which seungmin gladly accepted the offer. spreading you open as he buried his face deep in your cunt, lapping hungrily as you moaned. wet noises filling his normally quiet home. 
his tongue didn't leave a single crevice untouched, flattening and sucking harshly as your toes curled from the pleasure. he pressed his tongue in while his fingers came up to rub your clit. his nimble fingers coaxing an orgasm from you, one that made a mantra of "mister kim's" spill from your lips.
your essence all over his face as he licked his lips, sighing in ecstasy, giving you a light slap on the ass as he pulled your skirt back down
both of you in a haze yet still craving more. you knew this definitely wasn't going to be the last time seungmin would request services from you.
which was absolutely right.
seungmin quickly booked you again for the following week after you had left, same day and time. you were bubbling with anticipation for the next time you’d come over.
you fucking loved your job.
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please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito
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brownsugarwrites · 5 months
Text
Up late.
Pairings: Bodyguard!Kuai Liang x Black!socialite!reader
Warnings: Smut, established relationship ,edging, tears, praise, bratty reader, soft dom kuai but he is a asshole, choking , cursing, cumming inside, squriting ,aftercare. also not alot of dialouge here.
wc: 1.5k
listened to alot of ari lennox while writing this. This was supposed to be done weeks ago but school was beating my ass saur I hope everyone enjoys!! For your listening pleasure.
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It was late. Very late. 2:30 in the morning to be exact. You had just come from a night out with your best friends who had come into town for the weekend. Your parents were currently on a business trip so you were under Kuai’s supervision. But, the only problem was you didn't tell Kuai about you leaving and going out.
Was it out of pettiness? Yes. But you were sure he would do nothing about it. The past few weeks he had been letting you slide more than usual. You would yell and curse him out just because he told you no or you would just be defiant knowing you got under his skin with the little things you did.
Locking the door to your G-Wagon your father gifted you for your 21st birthday your heels clacked on the pavement of your driveway as you made your way to the front door. Fumbling in your purse to take out your house keys you sighed in exhaustion. You forgot had thrilling it was to sneak out and go party with your friends all night
Walking into your home you slipped off your heels before hanging your purse on the hook. Flicking on the light in the foyer you jumped seeing your personal bodyguard Kuai Liang sitting on the couch waiting for you to get home.
You were fucked.
“Oh hey, I thought you would be sleeping right now,” you said quite nervously but you tried not to show it
“Where were you?” he asked calmly.
You knew he already knew the answer to that so it was a matter if you were gonna lie to him or not. Knowing you were already in deep shit you decided to be truthful this one time.
“I went out with some friends. Why does it matter?” you asked crossing your arms
“Because last time I checked. You are under my watch correct?” he asked
You nodded your head before opening your mouth but Kuai cut you off
“Yes, you are under my supervision this weekend. So why did you think it was ok to go out without telling me where you were going”
You sat in your thoughts for a moment. Until the light bulb metaphorically appeared over your head.
“I'm grown first of all. All you do is treat me like I'm a child who can't handle themselves,” you said standing your ground before walking away to your bedroom.
Following behind you as you walked away from him he called your name continuously as you ignored his advances, Soon you reached your room and before you could close the door on his face he caught the door before it could close.
“I wasn't done talking to you.” He said voice slightly deeper than usual
“Well, I am-” you began before looking into his eyes seeing the seriousness in them.
Before you could think, he was gently pulling you by your neck to bring your face to his before kissing you harshly. Having to clutch on his shirt to keep you steady you grounded yourself before feeling Kuais hands go to your ass lifting you partially his way of telling you to “jump”
Bringing you closer to the bed your stomach churned in anxiousness mixed with arousal watched as he discarded his shirt on your floor. Watching him climb back over you he didn't say a word as he nearly tore off the dress you were wearing.
Some may say you were spoiled by nature. With your parents owning multiple businesses you never had to want for anything. No was not in your vocabulary or your parents. This made you entitled for lack of better words. You didn't care about how other people felt (sometimes) and how your actions would eventually have a consequence.
That was until Kuai was assigned to you about a year or two ago. When Kuai came you calmed down tremendously. You started to like him and you didn't want to run him away. Therefore you toned down to pursue something further with him, secretly of course (his brothers knew).
Once the two of you started to secretly date your shell started to peel slowly and soon enough you were back to your usual antics.
Peeling off your thin underwear he kissed your thighs a few times before leaving little bites and licking a stripe along your cunt. He quickly replaced his tongue with his fingers. Hitting that particular spongey spot that had your mouth running dry and seeing stars
“Kuai.. I’m bout to cum-” You would pant nearing your release
Soon as those words fell from your pretty mouth he quickly took his fingers out of your aching pussy hearing you whine in need
“Kuai why did you do that?” you asked sitting up on your hands before looking him in his eyes
Staring at you he couldn't help but think you were so beautiful like this. Even though you were near tears because of your denied release. This would set the tone for the night. Saying nothing he climbed on top of your flower bed sheets before pulling you in between his legs with your back against his broad chest. Taking a hand to turn your head to give you a soft kiss you thought that maybe he would let you cum this time around.
You were wrong.
Every time you were near a release he released his fingers from your puffy clit as the tears streamed down your face. Your whines and pleads for him to let you cum were strong as you felt like he had you in this position for hours toying with you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you begged for a release. But, you weren't getting off that easy.
“I need you so bad. No more teasing Kuai please baby” you said breathlessy wanting to be satisfied.
“I dont think you’ve learned your lesson princess,” he responded rubbing your thighs to try to calm down a little
“I did! I'm sorry Kuai just please I need you so bad.”
“Promise you won't be mean any more?” he asked smiling
Nodding your head rapidly you whined feeling his fingers rub on your clit once more before lifting you to place you on his lap. Incoherent words fell from your lips as you sunk into him.
“There we go sweetheart, shh I got you,” he said along your neck before bouncing you up and down.
Usually, Kuai kept his composure very well. But when he was inside you his composure slowly faded away. The way you squeezed him and the little noises you would make as he fucked into you kept him going while driving himself crazy at the same time.
He was in love with you. No matter how spoiled you were, he knew the other side of you that most didn't. He was grateful to see both sides of you. His brothers always talk about your behavior and how your attitude could be too much to handle. But he knew how to get you to submit completely to him. It took some time but he knew how to get you there.
Putting you on your back he continued to fuck you into feeling your almond-shaped nails digging into his back as you cried out for him nearing your release.
“Just wait princess, im close hold on a little longer” he grunted continuing to fuck into you
Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to hold on for him but your body was defying what your mind was saying
“Cant hold it anymore baby please.” you whispered trying to open your eyes
Seeing your glossy eyes he groaned seeing how fucked out you were. That was all he needed to cum
“Cmon baby, thats it, i got you” as you released all over him as he pumped his cum into you.
He laid on top of you as the two of you breathed in sync. Feeling warm and soft kisses being placed on your forehead before getting carried to the bathroom.
Running the hot water with your lavender soap he went back to your room to change your sheets and to pull out your sleepwear for the night. Coming into the bathroom quietly he tied your headscarf around your braids before putting on your bonnet. Once the water was done running he set you in the tub gently before getting behind you.
“Thank you.” you said softly sinking into the hot water
Helping wash each other off some kisses were shared in between with light giggles from the bubble getting on kuais face. Retreating from the bathroom Kuai went to grab some clothes from his overnight bag before coming back to your room to put his clothes on.
Peeling back your comforter the two of you laid down on your soft pillows while staring in each others eyes.
“Are you upset with me Kuai?” you asked softly before playing with his hair.
Before he could answer he took in the way the soft moonlight illuminated your brown skin and created a twinkle in your eyes. You were perfect.
“I could never be upset with you. I just didn't expect you to be gone. Your parents would kill me if I let you get hurt.”
“Im sorry…” you said with shame laced with embarrassment.
“I forgive you, princess. Next time just tell me when you’re going out. Ok?” he said before kissing the inside of your wrist.
Nodding your head you quickly snuggled into him before closing your eyes
“Good night Kuai. I love you.”
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strangerhottotties · 10 months
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Mad Sounds - E.M.
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Summary: Eddie has ADHD and reader has a touch of the 'tism. Her ways of helping Eddie are... questionable... but effective.
Warnings: Ya'll already know this some horny shit. Minors fuck off. Surprisingly angsty.
A/N: I rise briefly from the dark with some cool rocks as an offering to my faithful followers. I sprinkle some moss at their feet and grunt randomly before shuffling back into my caverns of dwelling to recover from the minute amount of energy that I exerted. Unfortunately, this little goblin has metaphoric asthma and got out of breath from the short journey.
As Eddie's self appointed tutor, there was plenty of frustration. He wasn't stupid. That you reminded him constantly. "There is a difference between doing something stupid and being stupid," you have sighed heavily at him countless times.
He resisted it at first. It nearly ruined your friendship a few times, but you could see it. It wasn't like he didn't just not want to do the work. But he'd forget his textbooks or his homework in his locker.
You spent twice a week helping him organize his locker so he could spend less time during the school day retrieving his books. You'd gone as far as to pester the principal into switching your locker with Shelby Phillips so you could have the locker right next to his. (Eddie accused you of going to far with this, but the morning snacks you insisted on bringing him when he was still blinking sleep from his eyes seemed to make up for.)
Your methodology may be unconventional, but it proved effected after the first week when Eddie brought home two C's and a D+ on the end of the weeks' tests.
So he begrudgingly allowed you to continue to forcefully tutor him. And then two weeks in he started ditching. Unfortunately, Eddie for got your ridiculous stubborn streak. He hadn't seen the full potential of how painfully unyielding your resolve could be when the right scenario emerged.
"Nah, can't make it tonight, gotta do band practice." "Sorry, we're playing a gig." "Can't Hellfire's tonight." "No way, I need a night off."
Each day, frustration bled more and more into your week until Friday rolled up and Eddie had a big, fat 'F' smacked down on his desk in O'Donnell's class and he blew you off again. "Whatever," he scoffed as he dumped his books into his locker.
"You skipped every chance to study this week, Eddie," your tell him with a hard edge to your voice. It's a mix of frustration, hurt and genuine anger.
He shoots you an irritated look, slams his locker shut and leans into your face. You can smell him, almost like wet dog, in your face. The reek of cigarettes familiar and clinging to the shirt that should get washed soon. You think he wore it to bed because the scent curls around you - deep and musky and natural. Not like how boys smelled when they worked out and sweat. Somehow it doesn't smell bad.
You shift closer and from the right angle it might look romantic. But your eyes are burning into his with steel resistance. You aren't crumbling over the fact that he is way closer than comfortable. You aren't wavering under his intensity.
(Not that he'd ever tell you but it drove him crazy. Normally, people would shrink and squirm away under the right pressure. It usually brought him amusement that people feared him. That he could creep up their spines and over their skin. He preened at the idea that he left stick residue. He felt like poison, ruining everything he touched but it gave him space to do as he pleased. Until you. It was like you never even noticed that he was too close or touching you. He grabbed your thigh once, digging his finger tips in around the top of your knee, just to see you even smack his hand off of you... and you'd reacted as if he'd simply nudged you to get your attention.)
If you wanted to get to the other side of the mountain, you were going to go directly there. You were always dead set on yielding the mountain to you. You would drive through the mountain, and Eddie was insisting on flowing down stream instead of listening to you!
"What am I even supposed to do!" He snarls lowly at your furrowed brow and set jaw. You either never even looked at him, or burned through him with an intensity that nearly buckled his resolve. This time, you weren't even blinking. It was eerie how slow you were breathing. Deep and even. "Study every moment of everyday?"
"I'm not asking that of you!" You snap back. "I'm just asking for you to work with me! It's not just gonna fall in your lap! I'm trying to help!"
"I didn't ask for it." He states and feels like he's bashing his head into the wall. His hand rises into his hair line and he gives it a tug. "I'm done," he ends after a beat of silence when you said nothing. He turns and heads
"After school were cleaning your locker!"
"Done! D-O-N-E! Done!" He wanders off.
.....
Half an hour after school ended, you heaved a sigh and dropped you back pack down beside his locker. It was shut. He was no where in sight. You waited and then finally check the parking lot. His van was gone.
You could do better, you think. There's got to be some way, you think as you step up to the locker. 15-84-04. His locker swings open with a low whine. It was fine, you tell yourself when you question the morality behind breaking into his locker.
It's not like you were doing it to steal. Just to help your friend. You weren't hurting anything. It's a mess. Papers are crumbled and folded beneath textbooks. There's graffiti at the back of it.
You shuffle through it. Pluck out the half destroyed text books in a pile at the bottom of his locker and set them to the side. Papers are torn. There's mystery stains on some of his old papers from the beginning of the week. Uncompleted assignments, rubrics handed out for projects, crumpled notebooks.
He took nothing home for the weekend. A wave of shared defeat fills you. He gave up. You'd been there, crushed beneath its weight when you hadn't made many friends. People thought you were being mean when you were just being direct. You wanted to make friends, but you just never knew what to say.
It's why you wanted to help Eddie so much. Because he didn't care that you were the 'mean' valedictorian that only cared about grades. He was your friend. And you wanted to help him in any way possible.
You were nervous the whole way up until Wayne opened the door to the trailer. You blink up at him with the stack of text books in you arms. A bag of oranges on top. Wayne frowns in confusion.
"I think you have the wrong place, sweetheart." He called you by the same thing Eddie usually did, in the same way. It gave a warm stir to your chest.
With a deep breath, you begin, "Is Eddie home?" His eyebrows shoot up high on his face.
"Yeah, he is."
"He had a tough day and I'm his tutor. I wanted to bring by his homework for this weekend. We had a fight and I came to apologize." Wayne passes you a smile and motions for you to come in.
"The infamous tutor," he hums, chuckling.
"Eddie's talked about me?" You question. Wayne passes you an amused smile as you step across the threshold. Infamous was bad. He must really be mad at you.
"You bet." You steel your face as Wayne leads you across their living room to a hallway on the left. You feel like crying all of a sudden. He knocks on Eddie's door. His metal is muffled by the door.
"I've got pants on." With that, Wayne swings the door open as you second guess coming here briefly. Your lips and fingers are starting to tremble from the bubbling regret in your throat.
"Got a visitor, Kid." There's a shuffle of papers and Wayne gives you the space to slide through.
"Thanks," but your voice sounds small as you step in. Wayne gives you a warm smile as you pass him. Eddie's confusion sours as he sees you and it makes you want to vomit.
The room is pure chaos around him. "You've got to be kidding me." He heaves as the door shuts. "What the hell are you doing here?" Those words make your lip wobbles hard, beyond your control.
"I... I..." you drop your gaze to the carpet as the words come out in a whisper. "I brought everything you'd need for your weekend... homework." Your taking deep breaths to try to stop the cry but those tears are clouding your vision still.
"Woah, woah, woah," Eddie calls and scrambles of the chaos of papers, DnD books and other random items. He stops in front of you as you start to lose your nerve. "Are you gonna cry?" He asks. You shake your head furiously, trying to squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears but it only makes them run over your cheeks. "Shit." He stops stiffly in front of you, regarding the entirety of you. "Why?" He manages to squeak. His face is wild with fear and confusion.
You sniff, whiping at your cheeks. "I sh-shouldn't have come here." You take your time so it doesn't come out a jumbled mess. His face crumbles and he steps forward to take the stack of books out of your hand and set it on a bunch of papers on the bed. The crinkling drives you crazy.
"I'm really not good with tears, okay?" He offers.
"Me either," you pipe back, still whipping at the ever flowing tears coming from your eyes with the heels of your hands.
'You gotta tell me why your upset."
"You're not really my friend, are you?" You manage through that wobbling look. Eddie looks devastated by your nasally question.
"What? Of course we're friends!"
"You're uncle says you've talked about me," you say and he goes ghost white. "He called me your infamous tutor. That's a bad thing, Eddie." Eddie's hand rakes through his hair, getting increasingly more stress "you don't actually like me do you?"
"That's what your worried about? If I like you?" Jesus," he grunts out and then throws his arms up. "I'm just pissed off about this tutoring thing. You're pushy about it, okay? We're friends still." You fold into him immediately, burying your face against his neck. He's rigid beneath you cling to him hard.
"I don't have a lot of friends," you whimper. "I know, I can be a lot but I'm really trying to be a good friend because you've been a really good friend to me." His edges soften for you and then all at once you're being crushed to his chest in a way that takes the anxiety right away. It rushes out of you as he hold you. His cheek pressing to the top of you head.
"We're friends." He affirms, hands brushing across your back. "And here I thought you didn't actually like me." You sniffle into his neck as he sways you both and it's almost hypnotic in it's effect. You find yourself pushing in to nuzzle his neck as he swallows.
"You give good hugs," you hum up to him.
"Hah, thanks," he grunts awkwardly and pats your shoulder until you pull back. You wipe your cheeks. "Now, did you just come here to bring me textbooks and cry?"
"No, I came to apologize, bring your homework and maybe come up with a plan."
"A plan? Fuck." He sighs. "Start with the apology first." You nod in affirmation, clearing your throat to tell him clearly. He heads to his bed and brushes enough papers away to sit on the edge of it to face you.
"Eddie, I'm sorry. I know you have other important things that you want. I can't expect you to conform to the ways I do things." His face flutters into a hard, unreadable look. You step forward kneeling and taking his hand like your mom always did when she was trying to make something up to you. "Too much change at once can overwhelm me so why wouldn't it overwhelm you. I just wanted to be as effective as I could but most people don't operate how I operate. I'm sorry for being pushy." Eddie looks really uncertain as he stays quiet for a moment. His gaze flickering between your hand and you.
"Wow." He reaches over and drags a pillow into his lap a moment later. "Cool. Great apology."
"Really? Or are you being sarcastic. I can't tell."
"Not sarcasm." He states. "Just tell me your plan?" You start to rise and he holds out his other hand to stop you. "Stay there. Tell me your plan."
"I wanted to brainstorm ways that might work for you. Maybe set aside a couple days a week you might be able to study. A schedule so you still have free time?" He sighs and glances down at his pillow before tossing it off to the side.
"Great. Sure." A smile breaks out on your face, eager to shift back onto your heels. "Are you free tomorrow?"
He arches an eyebrow.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes, I have a few ideas."
"Like what?" He asks, threading his fingers into yours. It feels nice, holding his hand.
"Well, tonight I figure we switch roles."
"Excuse me?" He demands.
"You teach me something."
"Teach you what? You already are valedictorian."
"I was thinking maybe D'n'D?" His brows shoot into his hairline. "That or guitar?" Eddie blinks. "Obviously a rudimentary part of those things."
"I don't understand the motive behind this."
"If I tell you I fear you'll skew the data."
"Okay, robo-tutor." He sees the hurt flash on your face and knows that wasn't a nice thing to say. He sees it in the way your body slumps. "Sorry, I said something that upset you." He thins his lips.
You cast your eyes away. "No," you deny.
"Hey, you're a shit liar." Part of you sings in approval that he grumbles it quietly. He reminded you often of a moody German Shepard. Always barking at his friends with his short fuse, but he reluctantly allowed you to get away with things with minimal complaining.
"No," you repeat. You had a monstrous crush on him, it made you just as soft as him. And kneeling in front of him was submissive. You were reminded of it when he'd encouraged you to stay where you were. Your mind presenting you with a the desire to lay your head right between his legs. Thankfully, you had impulse control.
The softened rasp he saved just for you made you feel special like the hormonal young woman. Christ, it felt ridiculous how badly you hoped he felt back. Even when he was calling you out, it thrilled you, like knowing he wasn't actually mad at you.
You blame the morbid curiosity that the scientific part of your brain fanned the flames. Biological need. Basic instinct. Purely Phermones. Especially when he leans forward over you. "Hey, look at me," he snaps. It's meant to intimidate, but you were truly blown away by the swell of bodily reactions that stirrs. Especially when it made your pussy feel like lava.
Your eyes obey without your discretion. He notices, eyes flickering narrow for a second. Any flicker of the nerve he'd struck is swept up by the increased circulation to your face due to the intimacy you were feeling with him.
Your ears burn, but only because you've never been surrounded by this much Eddie. "Okay," he hums.
That's it.
He stands, snatching up the campaign he seemed to be constructing. He messing dumped them in a corner (you mentally begin to clean his room) before he strides to the mirror across the room and plucks it off the wall like it was gospel. And then you wonder if that's how he'd treat a girl. Tonight you'll certainly imagine him treating you as tenderly as he holds the instrument.
"Guitar," he grunts out. "I'll teach you, come on."
"I had another suggestion," you admit as you take his outstretched hand to help you up.
"You don't want to learn? I thought-"
"Oh no! I meant to help you! We need to find motivation for you. A... a reward system?" He tilts his head as you climb to your feet.
"Reward system? Like I get a reward?" He chirps.
"Mhmm." You agree as he slowly shuffles closer to his bed.
"I'm listening."
"And this is up for negotiation," you preface as he takes a seat again at the edge of the mattress. "But I was thinking for every 'C' you get, I could give you a-a... little thing, like guitar picks or like... snacks or something." Eddie breaks out into a grin.
"For every assignment?"
"Yeah and like... if you get a C- it'll be like one pick or a fruit snack but the higher the score the more snacks."
"Give me an example."
"If you get a 'C-', you get a guitar pick. If you get a 'C', I bring you snacks the next morning. If you get a C+, I'll buy your lunch or something." He ponders this, eyes narrowing firmly as he regards you rocking on your feet in the middle of his bedroom.
"How about for a 'C+', you bring me some of those cookies you made for halloween?" He requests.
"The pumpkin ones?"
"Yeah, you made them look like bats." You grin at him. He'd raved about them at the time but you're pleseantly surprised he remembered them.
"Deal. I'll give you a whole batch of pumpkin cookies if you earn a 'C+'." He grins triumphantly through his successful negotiations.
"What if i manage a 'B'?" You shrug, moving to sit beside him on his bed. You're aware of the smokey smell of him heavy in the room and it made you're head spin. The room turns warmer, like someone was cranking the thermostat.
"We'll I've been think about that, ya know?" You feel your cheeks start to heat up. Eddie regards you carefully and your acutely aware of his watchful eyes. Eddie was uncannily observant most of the time and as thrilling as it tended to be under his scrutiny, it was equally nervewracking... Especially when your explination begins to bubble out.
"And it's been a tough thought. So I was thinking about what motivates boys. And sports was out of the question. And you like guitar stuff, but I don't know enough about it, same with D'n'D... so I thought... what else?"
The last two words sink heavily between you both. Eddie blinks a couple times at you trailing off. Your cheeks are burning hot enough one could probably feel it without touching you. He's cheeks darken as well as he swallows and clears his throat, he wets his lips before he rumbles:
"Are you referring to sex?"
"Not quite." You pipe quickly.
"What do I get if I get a 'B'?" He repeats, much more serious, eyes burning into yours with nearly the same fire as when he was snapping at you but this time it carries and electricity that climbs through you.
"Spank bank material?" You offer sheepishly. His jaw drops open.
"Like porn? You're gonna get me porn?" Eddie demands as his alabaster cheeks darken a couple shades. It's hard to tell with his voice and frozen facial features if he actually likes that idea.
"Actually, I was thinking more like... if you get a 'B-', I'll show you my boobs but if youd rather have actual porn...." you trail off.
His eyes couldn't get wider, you think. They're enormous and for once, Eddie has been stunned into silence. You watch those big eyes dart down to the front of your sweater.
When he does speak, his voice is raspy, "No, no, I like you're idea better, Honey." The nickname jolts you a bit and you smile in relief that he'd finally made an indication of some kind on how he felt.
"If you get a 'B' you can have a picture of them." Eddie is sliding the guitar off to the side then, scooting to the edge of the bed eagerly and it makes your chest loosen and explode with butterflies.
"I want to take the picture." He reports, eyes drifting back up to yours and you're suddenly wishing he'd look back at the vague form of your tits. This was the most intense conversation you'd ever had, offering your body up to the guy you'd admired from a far for most of high school.
This pitch. It felt like a snowball and as good as that sounded, you didn't want to overstep boundaries you'd had yet to discover. After all, you were eighteen and just because you hadn't kissed a boy doesn't mean that you didn't know anything about things like this.
"We'll see."
"Then I want one of your bras for the 'B+'."
"Those are expensive. No way." You frown and try the next best suggestion. "You can feel me up, how bout that?" Eddie chuckles breathlessly at your protest.
"Really breaking my heart here, sweetheart." His eyes are glittering in a way you only saw when he doing something taboo. "If I get an A+ can I fuck you?" He asks abruptly. It steals your breath for a second and you quickly cover for it, slowly shaking your head.
He doesn't look disappointed when you do this, just tilts his head a little.
Truthfully, you didn't want Eddie to fuck you as a reward for his good behavior. You wanted you're first time to be simply because it felt right. Because you both wanted to have sex and to just feel good. You were already pimping yourself out to him to some degree.
"I'll give you an orgasm for every 'A+'?" Eddie's breath hitches. "With like my hands o-or... mouth?" He's pulling the pillow back in his lap very suddenly. A theory bubbled in your mind at that.
"And... can I for my 'A-', I want to borrow your panties?"
"Borrow?" You demand in confusion.
"Yeah... after you've worn 'em. More spank bank material." Spank bank. He wanted to use your worn panties for spank bank material? For the life of you, there was no understanding behind this request. He really want your dirty underwear.
"I guess if that's what you want, what do you want for 'A's, though?"
"Would I be able to touch you, too? Like... an orgasm for you." Your throat feels suddenly dry. You swallow against the thickness.
"M-e?" You manage to squeak, cheeks burning. He shifts closer on the mattress, eyes glittering. He slinks so smoothly across the surface of his trashed sheets. It feels like very predatory, like a big cat stalking you but entirely too thrilling at the same time. "That's not a reward."
Eddie cocks his head at you, the corner of his plump lips tilting up. "Are you saying it's not something you're willing to give me? Or are you saying it's not a reward I'd like?" The room is so warm all of a sudden, but the tingles have started between your legs. Your body betraying you to him.
You're unsure of how to answer, entirely uncertain about which it happened to be. Your emotions a muddle of overwhelm. And so your next words fall out of your mouth breathlessly.
"I don't know, Eddie." His lips slowly stretch into a deep grin. He hums your name like a prayer.
"Make no mistake, I'd pay money, I'd commit crimes, and I'll study with you as much as I can to be able to eat your pussy."
You jump for some reason. Your feet are scrambling and you find yourself looking around as you refuse to make eye contact with him. He chuckles as you scurry across his room, away from him.
"What are you looking for?" He questions as he rises, leaving his guitar on his bed to stroll closer. You take a deep breath, fully aware that you had no idea what you were looking for. Maybe a hidden camera.
"Where you got the audacity, to start." Eddie throws his head back to laugh a belly laugh at you. He stops his steps in front of you and grins down at you in utter amusement.
"I never get under your skin. Did I hit a nerve? What's got you so squirrely, Honey?" He lifts a hand to casually tuck some hair behind your ear.
"These are supposed to be your rewards... wouldn't that be weird?" You ask and it sobers his expression some.
"It would be a reward." He states. "So I guess that means the question is, will it be my reward? I promise you, I'm really good with my hands. I'll show you, come here." He holds out his hand for you. You can't help the nervous, hiccuping sigh that escapes you at his offer. He grins, knowing full-well what you were imagining.
"The guitar, sweetheart," he purrs, smile twisting maliciously. "Unless you want me to play with your pussy?" Your ridged spine jolts and you find that your breath is coming very fast.
Eddie had seriously just asked to touch you? What was the world coming too. This couldn't actually be real.
"Only if you get an 'A'," you agree with awhisper. There's a moment of hesitantly skirting your fingers across his hand as if he'd burn you. Something about his face is downright sinful. He clasps his hand around yours and drags you towards his bed to clear it off from everything quickly with one hand.
The way he's holding you're hand, as if you'll dart away, makes you smile with his back turned. When he's satisfied with that, Eddie drops onto the bed and pulls you between his legs. You shiver at the warm body pressing into your back.
"Here," he hums into your ear and lifts his guitar, with one hand he guides it across your hips. "It's going to rest across your lap just like this." You let him use you as a puppet.
You have to remind yourself that there is purpose to this experiment. He's going to teach you using the way he'd prefer to learn so you actually have to fight to pay attention to something other than how his calloused fingertips feel to direct you.
"Mercy," you mumble to yourself.
"What's that, Honey?"
"Nothing, didn't mean to interrupt." His mouth brushes by your ear.
A knock at the door has you jumping. "Pants are still on," Eddie calls and the door creaks open. His uncle grins in the door way as you turn a little redder.
"I'm off to work, Eddie, please... study hard." You can hear the grin in Eddie's voice.
"Don't worry, we'll study." Eddie promises, which makes Wayne arch an eyebrow as he studies the way his nephew is draped across your back.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Munson." You offer which makes Wayne give you a sweet smile. When the door seals shut,
I've lost track of my taglist so this will remain untagged for now. I seldom post due to ease of burnout so hit the follow and turn on notifications or follow me on AO3 at @dinthehottotty which is conveniently also one of my other blogs.
Part 2
476 notes · View notes
dollwrites · 1 year
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𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 — 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!marleyan!reader, obvious manipulation, reader definitely takes advantage of Reiner’s not so healthy mental state so dub con, mild angst, handjob, needy!sub!reiner, body worship, size kink, all characters featured are 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 02.28.2023. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ perverted by elita
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“What would you do for me?”
“Anything…” Reiner moaned, his hips jutting forward. you slide around on his lap, but you don’t mind. his face is buried between the open buttons of your uniform top, panting hot air against your cleavage. his tiers smear grateful kisses over the tops of your breasts, but he doesn’t dare reach to unclasp your bra without permission.
bring him back.
that had been what your superiors told you.
they could tell that the Armored Titan had changed; whether that meant he was slipping out of Marleyan control or had simply lost himself over the years he spent on Paradise Island, it didn’t matter to them. they’d sent you with Zeke, straight to where Reiner had been resting in the infirmary; the whole time you’d walked side by side with Zeke, you wondered how he could be okay with this.
how was it that he, like the Marleyans, didn’t mind playing mind games with his soldiers?
“He likes you.” Zeke had broken silence once the two of you were just outside the infirmary.
“You’re his War Chief,” you replied, looking away, “he would listen to you if you ordered him to. There’s no need to bring me into it.”
“He likes you.” Zeke repeated, taking a long drag off a cigarette, “Of course he’d listen to me, but he needs more than orders right now.” he’d given you a knowing look from beneath the rims of his glasses, staring down his nose at you. “I know you’ve done it before, when he first came home.”
your brows knit together, and you tried to glare at him, but in the end, your gaze fell to your own feet. “I told the general I didn’t want to do that anymore.” you grumble; that familiar, sick sensation twisting your stomach into knots. Reiner was a good man, if not a little misguided, and even though you knew that he must know that the Marleyan military uses you against him, that you only visited him, kissed him, slept with him because you had been ordered to do so, he didn’t seem to mind. you did, though. because you knew he deserved more.
you just couldn’t give it to him, and he wouldn’t seek it out on his own.
“With all due respect,” Zeke started in a low tone, “I don’t really give a damn what you think of me for bringing you here. If you think I’m wicked for toying with Reiner’s head, then you may be right.” you glare up at him, open your mouth to speak, but he’s no longer looking at you. “My Vice Chief is standing on a metaphorical ledge, and I don’t want to see him jump. If dangling your cunt in front of him will talk him down from it, then I’ll do that. If the general permits it, I’ll drag you to him whether you want to or not. I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you, kicking and screaming, to his bed every night if it will keep his head on straight.”
you could’ve slapped him— it was well within your ability to make his cheek burn red with the imprint of your hand, and even he wouldn’t have stopped you, but you don’t. something about the way he spoke, with the certainty he used, told you it didn’t matter how you protested. he and the general shared the same sentiments. they didn’t care how badly you messed Reiner up when you played with his heart; they only needed him to fight.
Pieck was waiting at the door, a lazy smile gracing her lips, and she waved you inside, leaning against one crutch. you pondered, for a moment, about telling Zeke how despicable he was. but, it would do no good. so, you simply trudged forward, slipping inside and allowed the Eldian girl to lead you to Reiner’s room.
to your duty.
“Anything?” you repeat, biting back a frown. you didn’t want him to see how much you loathed how easily he threw himself into the flames for you. your svelte digits caress the bulging veins on his cock in butterfly strokes. it stood straight up between your clothed bodies, swollen, jabbing at the air and the palm of your hand when you wrapped a fist around it, begging for attention from you. you tilt your head back and exhale when he sucks hard on your clavicle, both massive arms wrapped around your midsection and keeping you pulled tight against him. he was big, much bigger than you, and that always made you a little nervous. nervous that he might, one day, stop being so submissive. “Reiner—“ you breathe, unsteady, and he whimpers against your skin, rocking his hips more fervently now that you’ve called his name. he always loved the sound. “What would you do for me?” you repeat, the gentle pad of your thumb teasing his slit. precum frosts it, and the muscles in his arms draw taut.
“Fuck,” he slurs, dragging his open mouth over your breasts, his brows furrowed, “anything! I’d kill for you.” his breath is shaky as he lifts his head, his golden gaze desperate to meet yours. you avoid it, mostly, and stare at the dusky rose colored blush across his cheeks. “I—I’d die for you…” he moans, and you allow your hand to gather all of his essence and use it to ease the friction as your hand glides south, back down to squeeze the thick base. “If that’s what you want from me, I’ll do it, I will…”
“Sh, sh, sh…” you croon, filling your voice with as much honey as you could murmur, pursing your lips and pumping your fist in slow, firm strokes that had a sordid whine rumbling in his throat, “I don’t want you to die for me, Reiner. I want you to live for me. I want you to fight for me.”
he was nodding, leaning as close to your lips as he could, his own working to capture your couplet, even as you kept them just out of reach. to kiss him would only make lying to him harder, even if he wanted to live in the fantasy so badly. your pace quickens, only just, and his grip around your smaller frame tightens. “I will, I am.” you knew that, if he wanted to force you, it wouldn’t be difficult. he could easily overpower you, steal what he wanted ( which, right now was your kiss ), and you could do nothing to stop him. but he doesn’t. he begs you, just under his breath, moaning your name until you’re lightheaded. “Kiss me… please…” you knew he was close; he was throbbing in your hand, bucking his hips to hump the tight fist you used to jerk him off. he was going to cum, and he needed your kiss to push him over the edge.
“As soon as you promise me.” you urge, running your free hand up to grasp at his cropped, golden hair at the nape of his neck. you didn’t have to pull at it, he leaned back willingly, his lips leaving a peppering of needy, heated pecks over your jaw, as if pleading to be able to land one on your tiers. “Promise me you’ll fight for me.”
“Please…”
“Promise you’ll fight with me.”
“Fuck, p—please…”
“You won’t leave us.”
Reiner nodded to every syllable, his eyelids fluttering weak, but he managed to keep his eyes on you, sucking on your jawline, inching up, hopefully, to kiss at the side of your mouth. “I s—swear… I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight… I’ll do whatever you want, I’m yours to command… use me on the battlefield or off, I don’t care. Just please… kiss me!”
you shudder.
you were using him. he knew that. he was just too obsessed with you to care.
pumping harder, faster, you allow your lips to part, and a gentle tilt of your head towards him encourages his to find yours, as if rewarding him for being the most obedient toy soldier he could be. Reiner grunts and devours your mouth in hard, desperate kisses, locking you in place with his powerful biceps. you keep pumping, the other hand still buried in his hair as he comes undone, panting and rumbling a pathetic slew of thank yous into your cavern.
his head drops forward when he needs air, leaving you panting, too, and praises your soft breasts again. his tongue tracing what you thought might be his name as he snorts against them, glazing your hand and his twitching cock in the warm release that erupts in furious, little spurts. he’s still so pent up, even though you’d seen him a couple of months before, and you wonder if he ever slept with any other women.
or, did he always save himself for you?
“You’re good, Reiner.” you whisper, before you even realize you’ve done it, resting your chin on the crown of his head. carefully, you pet the damp tendrils back, and nibble on your lip. “So good.”
Reiner lets out a partial moan, but it’s mostly a heavy sigh of relief, before he nuzzles into your cleavage. “Don’t leave me yet.” he mutters, shifting underneath you. you move, too, slow to allow him to pick the position. he guides you on to your back, and lays against you, keeping his face buried in your heaving chest. he closes his eyes, breathing easier as you run your fingers through his hair. “You can sneak out later just, please wait until I’m asleep.”
788 notes · View notes
asumofwords · 10 months
Text
Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Hello my sweet angel loves, my little gremlins, the little monsters in my ears, here is another chapter because I cannot resist and I also am so excited and eager to keep writing ! So without further blah blah blah from me, here is the next chapter <3 P.S can you tell I have a blood kink?
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Chapter 78: The Prospect of Change 
Grief, grief, and more grief. 
It was what you felt. It was what you delivered. It was who you were now to your very core. Its grip dug sharp claws into your flesh, ripping you apart so that it may make a home inside of you. Inside the cavity of your chest, where your heart had once sat, now replaced with the blackened pit of despair which continued to pulse, and open, and consume you with every waking moment.
And in this very moment, with Aemond atop you, his hard length lining itself up with your still bruised and torn core, you felt it. 
Grief.
Grief that you wanted it. Grief that in some ways you didn’t. Grief in knowing that he had taken everything from you. Grief in knowing that he would continue to do so. Aemond took, and took and took. Your dignity. Your sanity. Your girlhood. And he would continue to take, and take, and take. And all that you could do was let him. 
And take in return. 
And so in the darkened chambers, upon the bed with your gown stripped from your body, you let him take, and you took back.
What surprised you most about grief, is the way you sought out comfort. 
Comfort in the form of company from someone who caused you said grief. 
Comfort in the form of your justified rage.
Comfort in the form of wine, ale. Star fruit. 
Sex.
Aemond was careful. Cautious even. As though he feared he might be the last to pull the fraught and fraying strings that were continuing to be tugged apart inside of you. As though he feared that he would burn the strings away with his fire, with no possible chance of tying those threads back together. 
Knotted to hold the lines of your sanity, damaged in a way that it could not come back. 
Damaged. 
And he treated you as damaged.
And it made the grief all the more encompassing. 
Broken, he had called you. 
And as he looked down at you from above with an eye that screamed caution, an eye that waited for confirmation, a face of his own grief as he knew you had endured his own tortures from him brother, it made you feel as broken as he called you. 
Raising your hips upwards, you chased after his length, wishing for it to be over. Wishing for Aegon to not be the last person who had been inside of you. To metaphorically wash your hands of him. To cleanse yourself of him. To rid yourself of his smell, his touch, the feeling of him inside of you. 
For it is better to be with the evil you know, than the one that you didn’t.
Though, you supposed you knew Aegon now.
You wondered if Helaena found comfort in the evil of Aegon, and feared the one in Aemond she did not know. Or perhaps she did know. Or perhaps, she too sought solace in Aemond herself from the abuse of her brother and husband, seeking loving and soft hands, kind words and protection from her younger brother. 
But Helaena was gone, and even when she was here, you could not find it in yourself to ask.
Aemond had been clinical about the way he entered you, watching the way your face screwed up in pain, slowing down and pausing, letting you adjust to him, through the bruising and wounds that had not yet healed.
The pain was familiar. 
The stretch was familiar. 
Aemond’s ache was familiar, and so with your legs wrapped around his back, you impatiently pulled him inside of you. To be over with it. To become accustomed to his pain again.
A low groan melted through him as he moved his whole length inside of you, and you grit your teeth to get through the agony. To move through the motions. To not break again. To not cry. To deal with it. 
It’s Aemond.
It’s him. 
He has done this before. 
It is only him.
The Prince drew himself out of you slowly, to then push back in, looking down between your bodies to watch his shaft sink into your heat repeatedly. Methodically. Softly. Looking down to ensure that he was not breaking his prize further than already done. To ensure that his spoils of war were not too spoiled. To ensure that his niece, his wife, his blood, his love was enduring as she always did. 
His.
It was like a bruise being pushed. A cut being pulled. 
But you wanted it. 
You needed it. 
And despite Aemond beginning to thrust into you at an even pace, and his face flitting from between you and then back up to you won, to watch as you whimpered and grit your teeth, and the betrayal of tears began to pool in your eyes, he still continued, knowing that you would stop him if you wanted. Knowing that you needed it, just as much as him. 
And it showed.
For all his restraint, his reverence, and fleeting kindness, his shoulders were tensed and shook with anger. 
Anger that you had been hurt. 
Anger that you had been touched. 
Anger that he had done nothing to stop it. 
Two pieces on a board moved by those above you.
Two pieces on a board who despite the illusion, had no power. 
Two pieces on a board who had been moved at the whims of their parents, family, and sides of the war.
Two pieces that had been melted down, and reformed. Crooked, and bent, and scarred.
Anger. Rage. Grief.
It seemed that was all the two of you were anymore. 
Anger. Rage. Grief. 
Curled into the bodies of two.
Anger. Rage. Grief. 
Two of the same, with the refusal to see.
Aemond shifted, using one hand to pull your hips upwards, angling his thrusts to rub against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you and you mewled. 
You wanted to feel good. 
You needed to feel good. 
And Aemond could give that to you. 
Aemond held your hips up and continued to thrust, spurred on by your reaction. 
“Fuck.” He moaned, clenching his eye shut as he struggled to keep his thrusts slow, and his dwindling composure there.
“Harder.” You commanded, voice hoarse. 
His eye shot open as he looked down at you, stilling half thrust. 
“Harder.” You told him again, shifting your hips upwards as you used your hands to grab onto his arms, fingernails digging into the flesh of his skin. 
Aemond kept his gaze on you for a moment, thinking over your command. Wondering if he should. Wondering if he could let himself go. Wondering if it would make it worse. But as you tilted your hips up once again, a sigh falling from your lips as the tip of his cock slid through your folds, he gave in.
Thrusting into you with a new vigour, he held you close against him, one arm holding you against his pelvis, the other propped above your head to give him leverage. Every thrust caused pain to spark up within you, the soft tinges of terror hiding in your throat.
But the pain was soon mixed with pleasure as his hand moved to your pearl, and began to swirl gently over it. You moaned, arching your back as his pace got quicker, and his fingers more unrelenting. 
“You’re mine.” He groaned, fingers wet with your slick as he began to pull shaky pleasure through you. 
“Only mine. Always mine.” He puffed, hips beginning to clap against you as he poured his own anger and grief into you. 
“Mine.”
“Yours.” You replied, back arching as tears welled in your eyes. 
His.
Forever.
Always his. 
In one way or another, he had left his mark on you. 
Shifting backwards, Aemond sat on his heels, pulling your hips into his lap, the new angle causing his tip to bully your spot within and brush against your cervix. You whined, throwing your head back as he began to pump into you sharply. 
“I love you.” He grunted, still fucking into your warm and wet heat. 
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him, his pupil blow wide as he looked down at your face. He looked sincere. He looked passionate. Silver hair messed atop his head, scar raw and red through his missing eye, lips half open as he lost himself to pleasure.
“Give in.” Aemond purred, seeing the way your eyes widened at his confession, “Admit it. You love me. Just as I love you.” His thrusts became sharper, and one fo his hands moved to press against your lower belly, feeling himself move through your walls.
You moaned, feeling him move deeply within you, the hand on your stomach pushing pressure down into your core, before his hand travelled back to your bud and swirled with new vigour.
Memories swirled in your mind.
Aemond sitting atop Aegon in the dungeons. His fists pummelling into the face of his older brother. The way he had growled. The way he had shook with anger. With rage. With grief.
“Your mine. No one will touch you again. No one. I promise.” The Prince rambled, thrusts becoming sloppier as his shaft throbbed within you. 
You arched into his touch, feeling pleasure begin to bloom in your core, the tell tale signs of your release getting close.
Aemond atop Aegon in the Dining Hall, pretty hands wrapped around the pale throat of the King, squeezing.
“My beautiful wife,” He moaned, fingers gently swiping through your folds and back to your pearl. “My beautiful zaldrīstos. Always been yours. Always.” 
“Fuck.” You puffed, feeling your release begin to rise inside.
Aemond in black. Black robes to match yours. Hand in hand. One.
“Can feel you gripping me. You’re close. Such a good wife.” You mewled, feeling your core clench around his cock, “Sȳz riña.” Good girl.
Mine.
Blinding white pleasure burst through you, spreading up through your body as you cried out, tears leaking down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut, relishing in the pleasure that he brought you. 
“Konīr, ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys.” There, my beautiful wife, He cooed, swiping your bud gently as he fucked you through your release.
”Ñuha ābrazȳrys.” My wife, Aemond’s thrusts became sloppier, hips clapping into yours as you laid limply beneath him, legs going numb, “Ñuha jorrāelagon.  Avy jorrāelan.  Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao.” 
My love. 
I love you. 
I have always loved you. 
Aemond shuddered, thrusting into you deeply as he came, his seed spurting deep inside of you, filling your womb. He held still above you as he moaned, pressing his forehead to yours as his cock throbbed inside of you. 
Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao. I have always loved you. 
You laid beneath him as you caught your breath, limbs tingling with pleasure. But as the pleasure subsided, the pain returned, and you shifted beneath him as sharp throbs pulled up from your core. 
Another tear fell from your cheek. 
Avy jorrāelan. My love. 
You sniffed, shifting beneath him, pulling your hips backwards, his softening cock pulling out from within you. You hissed, shifting again to lay limply back on the bed. Aemond leant back to look at you, a hand moving to cradle your cheek as he looked at you. 
“Iksā ñuhon.” You are mine. 
Mine. 
Always.
Since the day you were born. Till the day you would die. 
Another tear slid down your face, and Aemond’s hand quickly swiped it away. 
“Iksā ȳgha. Issa sepār nyke.” You’re safe. It’s just me.
Another tear. 
“Y/n…” Aemond murmured, laying down on to the bed beside you, pulling you against him and the sheets over the top of you both. He tucked your head beneath his, and pulled you close to his bare chest. 
He was warm, and smelt of him. 
Familiar.
Safe.
“Nyke kivigon naejot ao, ossēninna mirre mēre qilōni renigon ao arlī.” I swear to you, I will kill anyone who touches you again.
And you believed him.
That night you slept beside each other, pressed against him, inhaling deeply as you shuddered through the pain that ebbed inside of you. Though soon enough from exhaustion, from grief, from rage, or the comfort of false safety, you fell to sleep in his arms and dreamt of nothing. 
No nightmares of serpents. No dreams of whispering vipers, or the calling voices of your aunt and brother. No dreams of falling. No dreams of Godswood’s which spoke to you. Or Aegon’s grin in the dark.
Nothing. 
When you woke, you were still in Aemond’s arms, his fingers on your hip tracing lazy runes across the skin. Aemond sensed that you had woken and gripped you tighter to him, placing a kiss atop the crown of your head. 
“Did you sleep?” He asked, sleep in his voice. 
“I did.” You murmured, “Did you?”
Aemond did not answer.
And soon the maids arrived, as they always did, to ready you for the day, and provided the two of you with breakfast. Aemond helped you to stand, and wrapped you tightly in the gown beside your bed, your bruised neck bare to the room.
When he led you to sit at the table, he pulled out your seat and helped to push you in, pausing beside you as you looked up at him. It looked as though he wished to say something. But he didn’t. 
As the two of you sat opposite of each other, eating your breakfast in a terse tension and environment. Unsure of how to move forward. Unsure of how to go back. Unsure of how to talk to him without mentioning the day prior, or the days before that.
But Aemond had changed. And you were changing too. And his usual greens had turned to black, and his entire demeanour had shifted. Aemond could be an ally. And you needed to work him to it.
Reaching across the table you helped yourself to a large star fruit, relishing in the way Aemond followed your hand.
Star fruit.
Always the star fruit. 
You feared that you were growing to hate your favourite fruit, and the secrets that it held. 
Another thing taken from you. 
But, you digressed, and ate at it with sticky and unsteady hands, tearing it to pieces upon your plate, barely containing the visible anger that shook you to your core. The visible anger that just simmered beneath the surface of you. 
Where is your fire?
It had never gone.
Not truly.
It was always there.
But fire needed to be tended to. Fire needed to be kept safe. Fire could burn out quicker than when needed if it burnt everything in its path. If there was nothing for it to burn or hold onto. But Aemond loved your fire. He encouraged it. He provoked it, and prodded it, and disturbed it, and added to the flames. 
And you did the same for him. 
How long until you burn each other?
How long until the both of your flames sizzle out?
Small talk was exchanged as you ate.
“What is to happen to us?” You asked quietly, unsure of how to broach the conversation. Unsure of how to bring attention to the three Kings guards who could still possibly be outside your chambers waiting. 
“I will go back to performing my duties as I always have.”
Always.
“Are you sure the King wants you to?”
“He could not rule without me.” Aemond’s tone was clipped.
Poorly hidden rage.
You hummed, licking the nectar of the fruit form your fingers, Aemond’s eye watching the way your tongue darted out to gather the juice. 
The way your tongue had gathered his blood.
You cleared your throat, pushing away the insecurities and fear that began to rise again.
“And what of me?”
Aemond looked at you intently as he put his cutlery down on the table.
“He will not touch you again.” His voice held conviction. 
You believed him.
“Yes, but what am I to do?”
“Do as you were. Keep up appearances. Go to the Gardens that you love so dearly, and read. Go to the Godswood and pray. Seek haven in the Library as we did as children. Do as you please as a Princess of the realm.”
“Anything but leave.” You pointed out.
Aemond did not respond.
“But what if-“ You began.
“Aegon will be in my sight at all times. And if he is not, I will come straight to you.”
You stared at him. 
Straight to you. 
Always you.
“Promise me.”
Aemond leant back in his chair, “I think I have broken far too many promises to you. But I will give you my word instead. My word as the Prince, and my word as the unnamed Prince Regent.” He spoke softly, “My word as your husband. Kesan tepagon ao tolvie run.” 
I will give you everything.
“And if you break your word?” You asked, tilting your head. 
“Then you may bring fire as you always have.”
Days go past, and you and Aemond keep a routine together, creating a new one from the broken pieces of the last. You eat, you sleep, and you fuck. You have breakfast together, and he goes to the King to fulfil his duties. You read together by the fire in your chambers. You speak to one another more about the books you read. About memories past. About anything, and everything, but what haunts you both. 
You return to the gardens like you had once before, book in hand, though not reading. 
Thinking.
Plotting.
How to win the war.
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Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
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446 notes · View notes
kawowoa · 4 months
Text
can i draw you?
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synopsis : you’ve been dealing with art block for a while, nothing seems to ignite your creativity anymore but then you see him. boom. you want to draw him
characters : silver, idia
info : gn. reader, maybe ooc
a/n : srry for disappearing for like a year.. i’ll try to be more active but my creativity is down the drain T_T
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> silver
you’re lucky enough to catch him without malleus by his side. he was sitting up against a tree with a few birds finding a home on his body. the scene was perfect, like he’d just came out of a fairy tale
he saw you coming, you weren’t being discreet about your presence. he had a confused look on his face, it wasn’t often that you two saw each other, let alone talked
you explained to him your situation, how your art block was eating you alive. he started to panic which scared the birds away, ready to face whatever this art block was. you calmed him down, it was just a metaphor
he agreed to be your muse, it’s not like he had much to do anyway
you carry your sketch book around with you incase you find something that sparked your creativity. the two of you got into a comfortable position, you laid your preferred coloring medium (or none at all if you don’t like coloring) beside you before pulling out your pencil and eraser
silver stayed awake for five minutes, maybe it was the constant sound of your pencil scratching the paper or the rustling of the trees that had him dozing off or maybe it’s just silver’s weird habit of being able to fall asleep in any place at any time
his features were way more relaxed than they were before, his shoulders started to slouch, the crease between his eyebrows disappeared as well. a perfect scene
“silver.. silver! wake up!” you whisper-shouted close to his ear. you leaned back as he jolted awake, rubbing his eyes to rid of any sleepiness that may still be lurking
“huh..? what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes focusing on you, they were frantically moving across your face, looking for any signs of distress
you said nothing, pulling your sketchbook from behind your back. you held it in front of his face, far enough so that he can see it. you notice his hands, hesitant in wanting to hold the sketch book; you just smile and plop it right in his hands
“this is me?” he asked in shock, his eyes moving back in forth from you to the paper. you captured every little detail in his face and body, even the tree he was laying against
quickly noticing now long he’s been holding your sketch book, he gives it back to you. although, his slight smile never left his face
“it’s amazing. it was an honor being able to help you out”
> idia shroud
you caught him in the halls after all the clubs ended. he was walking out the board games club with azul and a few other students
he didn’t notice you, but azul did
you saw idia tense up, slowly turning around to you. you wave at the both of them. azul was quick to hand idia over to you when you asked for him. idia looked so dejected, looking back at azul like he just committed murder
you pulled idia aside, far from azul’s prying eyes. you explained the situation you’re currently in, you had a small feeling he might disagree; desperately hoping you were wrong
and you was! idia agreed to help you! not without a whole bunch of complaints. he saw the desperation all over your face, how could he not agree?
you had to do it in the comfort of idia’s room though, you didn’t mind, a person’s beauty looks best when they’re most comfortable
in the comfort of his room, he sat on the bed while you sat on the gaming chair. you set out all your art materials on the desk, you picked up your pencil and sketch book before scooting the chair closer to idia
the man looked so nervous. you started talking to him to try to ease his nerves. hours went by and he started to get more animated, talking to you about his current fave game
“…tbh the story could be better, the whole evil villain terrorizing the mc for some super special artifact is so overrated”
“yeah, definitely played out” you nodded in agreement. you push the chair closer to the desk, putting your pencil and eraser down. idia’s rambling dies down as he watches you come back to the original spot you were in before
he stares at every moment you make until your sketchbook invades his field of view. his eyes widened, grabbing the sketchbook out your hands
“do… do you like it?” idia’s expression and lack of words had you second guessing. you didn’t take much time on it, it was definitely a rougher sketch than you normally would do
“yeah… it’s great. can i keep it? not for myself but i think ortho would like it a lot”
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modelbus · 8 months
Note
Ahem- hey- uh- I-
…NOW I FEEL LIKE TOMMY TUBBO WILBUR AND RANBOO IN PART TWO- HELP FFJYTFJHTYTFTH
SOOOOO- HI THERE ITS ME ✨🌌🌙 ANNON, THE DISAPPEARING ANNON- LOOK- I-
OKAY SO EXPLANATION TIME, I HONESTLY THOUGHT MY CRAPPY REQUEST WOULD BE IGNORED- I ALSO HAVE NOT BEEN ON TUMBLR SINCE LIKE A WEEK AFTER I SENT IT- I COME BACK TO READ SOME STUFF FROM OUR GOOD OLD LORD AND SAVIOR MODEL, TO SEE; ONE IT WAS RECENTLY YA BIRTHDAY! (Happy late birthday-) AND TWO.. MY REQUEST WAS TURNED INTO A MASTER PEICE OF AGES WITH TWO WHOLE PARTS, I APPARENTLY HELPED GET YOU OUT OF A WRITING SLUM- AND PEOPLE ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED MY CRUMMY IDEA (Thanks to your POGGERS writing)
so basically- THANK YOU ‘O GREAT MODEL FOR HEARING MY PLEA AND DELIVERING GREATNESS!!!
also I am gonna try and be more active on tumblr now so like- yey.
ALSO ALSO, I may sometimes send in requests of my silly little ideas cuz like chaos cut fed my soul and I am now the ✨ H a p p e h ✨
ALSO ALSO ALSO, part three of chaos cut???, we are at home and get messages asking like “Yo we good now? You forgive us for being assholes??” and we say smth like “you gonna respond to my messages? Then sure” some kind of tweet is made could be as vague as “shes gonna be in videos again yayyy” or could be the group admitting to what happened?? *eyes* maybe responses from other friends?? Ofc that is a suggestion for if you decide to further continue.
wether you decide to continue it or not or you decide to use this or not, thank you so much, chaos cut was all I wanted it to be and more.
I’M BACK BABYYY!!
-All the love, ✨🌌🌙 Annon.
You live!! And I’d love to receive more of your amazing little ideas :) honestly, I’d write 500 parts of Cut Chaos
I probably formatted this weird because of the messages part and the Twitter part but Oh Well.
Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)
Cut Chaos Part 3
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The day you spent with Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, and Tommy after the store might’ve been the best day you’ve ever had. You’re finally able to breathe again, to laugh again. Smiling had started drifting away from you, but suddenly you were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
You almost don’t go home. It’s tempting to stay with Ranboo when he offers up one of their many spare bedrooms (and you do mean many), but you decline. Heading back home, closing the door to your bedroom is easier than it’s ever been. Just living is easier than it used to be.
Collapsing onto your bed, it only takes you a second before you start grinning like an idiot to yourself. Things are back to normal, back to how they should be. Sure, you could still be mad at them for what happened, but you were tired of not being around them. Tired of people being pissed off.
It takes you a full three minutes before you roll onto your side and unlock your phone with Face ID. There’s a plethora of notifications waiting for you, from a group chat that you thought was a ghost town. It makes you grin all over again.
Wilbur so we’re all good now?
Tommy yeah, u forgive us for being assholes??
Tubbo Becuase we r super sorry
You You guys gonna respond to my messages from now on?
Ranboo I promise on Tommy’s life
You Then yeah
Tommy HEY
Laughing to yourself, you swipe out of messages to open Twitter and scroll on it. You aren’t afraid to open it, not like you used to be. Random tweets would remind you of what you lost, of the various people confused why you lost it, but now you’re just giddy. Overjoyed.
Part of you wanted to announce the plans you made with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo. Scream from the (metaphorical) rooftops of Twitter that you were back. The chaos squad was back.
But, as it turns out, Tommy beat you to it. Of course he did, he can’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him. In a loving way, of course.
tommyinnit ﹫Tommyaltinnit guess who is BACK in the NEW VLOG
|_ You ﹫Yourusername me BITCHES
|_ Nia ﹫randomfanpersondontworry OMG OMG OMG NO WAY !!! CHAOS SQUAD ISNT DEAD FUCK ALL OF YOU IM WINNING TODAY
You grin, scrolling through the replies to Tommy’s tweet—including Tubbo and Ranboo’s—then realize the group name is trending. With wide eyes, you switch what you’re scrolling through to read the new tweets.
Annon ﹫StarStarMoon Anyone know what happened between the chaos squad??? Like they all drop her and now she’s back?? Something definitely happened…
|_ Real Person ﹫RealpersonIcreated THIS! Why did nobody talk about it. I wanna know fr fr
|_ Max ﹫Myfriendsnameisbeingused I think they all dropped her over those rumors ages ago. Makes sense to me tbh
|_ Charlie ﹫Myotherfriendsnameisbeingused Totally on her side if something did happen honestly lmao
Oh, fuck. You hesitate, not sure what to do, then ignore the tweet and its replies. Things were good, you didn’t need to dwell on when they were bad. Let people be people and let them speculate all they want.
This was your life and your happiness. Returned, at last.
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