#both of which are a bit daunting. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollaches · 2 months

Text

— my wait is you

♡ closeted!abby anderson x fem!reader

synopsis: after deciding to stop seeing abby completely due to her inability to commit, she drops everything to make it up to you

a/n: from a req… im so sorry this sucks so bad & i did not proofread

warnings: closeted abby duh, owen gets his own tw, internalized homophobia i guess (?), mentions of crying, improper communication, secret relationships, kissing, sorta established relationship, whiney and needy abby, pussydrunk abs lol, dry humping (THE CROWD GOES WILD), face sitting, abby is a messy eater and a MUNCH, make up sex, mentions of strap usage, cursing, a little bit of angst in the beginning if you squint and turn your head away a little bit, fluff, cliffhanger idk if i’ll make a pt2, and pet names

wc: 3.8k

The bustle from all the people in the dining hall made it impossible to think and in some ways that was comforting, yet everyone's presence was a bit too overwhelming at the moment.

You dropped a half finished sandwich into the trash, having no appetite after what you endured today. As you walk back towards your assigned room, the memories of Abby’s betrayal come flooding back.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that she wanted to live a double life, one in which she was with Owen and another where she was with you.But you were not going to give her the pleasure of having both, not when it’s fucking with your head as badly as it is.

Today you had been assigned patrol with Abby, who you just so happened to be avoiding like the plague as of late. It was easier to avoid her, as you knew if she were to look at you with her kind eyes, you would give in to her every request.

Fate seemed to be against you, as you had the daunting task of facing her for almost an entire day. You brushed off every attempt she made to speak with you, your gun held tightly in your hands as the two of you left the base.

The gentle “hey” that fell from her lips was only met with silence, your eyes focused on the path ahead. She knew you were pissed— knew she fucked up badly enough to ruin everything the two of you had built together. But she just didn’t know how to apologize to you for being unable to be openly out with you.

Tension between the two of you became so thick during your journey that you could’ve cut it with a knife, but you refused to budge.

Even when she tried to soothe you a bit by offering to stop by the old desolate book store the two of you had found, she was met with silence before you simply shook your head and looked away from her.

It was eating away at every inch of her being, her hands twitching at her sides as she yearns to get her hands on you. She misses being close enough to breathe in your sweet scent, misses the way your soft hands felt against her skin— she missed everything.

To you, she was simply being a pain and rubbing it in your face that she had chosen to be with Owen rather than you. So during the entire trip, you remained silent and didn’t allow Abby any comfort for once. She eventually went quiet, her jaw clenched tightly and her eyes narrowing at your form as the two of you got back to base.

And even now as you walked towards the door to your room, you felt anger bubbling within your tummy due to the fall out between the two of you. Just as your hand touched the cool metal of the knob, you felt two warm hands rest on your waist.

Your brows furrowed out of confusion, although you knew who was touching you just by the weight of their hands.

Spinning to face her, you push Abby’s hands away and let a deep frown settle onto your lips. You offer her no words, simply taking her in as she stands before you.

She looks tired, frustration etched into her features as she gazes down at you.

“What the fuck was all that today?” she questions, her anger showing despite the quietness of her voice. She’s keeping it down as per usual, never wanting anyone to even notice the two of you interacting beyond work duties.

“You haven’t let me speak to you for weeks. I miss you, okay? I get that you’re upset with me but don’t give me the silent treatment, just tell me I fucked up and let’s move on” she pleads, her words so rushed from nerves that you barely comprehend what she has said.

Her words only make you want to scream at her, to make a huge scene just to show her how much she has hurt you. But you push it down, keeping your voice just as low as hers is.

“I’m not going to ‘move on’ from you dating some asshole that you don’t even like. I’m tired of you using me to satisfy your own needs so find some other girl who is willing to be your dirty little secret” you mutter bitterly, glancing down to notice the way her hands were flexing as she opened them only to clench them into fists once more.

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Abby. And don’t even think about knocking on my door when he can’t give you what you want.” you seethe, turning your back on her and entering your room without giving her time to completely process your words before you slam the door in her face.

Abby is left wide eyed, her plush lips parted as she is left alone with your harsh words. She goes to knock on your door out of instinct but pauses, her brows furrowing as irritation and desperation make an ugly mix within her. She lowers her hand, now moving with a determined stride towards Owen’s room.

♡

With little to console you after the altercation, you had made the prompt decision to bury your face into your pillow and let your thoughts fade away as you fell into a dreamless sleep. It was comfortable, being so detached from everything around you even if it was only for a little while.

However, any solace you had found was ripped from your hands as a heavy knock sounds on the door. A low groan sounds throughout your small room as you blindly move your hand onto the side table to try and find the lamp.

Once the light switches on, another loud knock can be heard, the door shaking from the force. The second knock makes you rush towards the door, unsure of what to expect but believing it to be urgent.

That is until you swing open the door, the dimly lit hallway showing you a very broken down Abby. Her braid has become messy and loose, her eyes red rimmed and glassy. She looks like a kicked puppy, so lost and scared.

“I broke up with him, okay? It’s done, I swear” she blurts out breathlessly, not even giving you the chance to speak. The information takes a while to set in, the cogs in your mind slowly turning as you realize what she had said.

It was over. She was yours and only yours now.

It’s hard to speak as you try to process everything, leaving Abby with an aching silence. Tears begin to roll down her rosy cheeks, a pitiful whine emitting from her.

“I know you’re probably still mad but please let me stay. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just— I can’t be alone right now” she whispers weakly, taking a step closer to you so that she is standing inside your room.

She sounds absolutely pathetic and you can’t help but relish in this moment, her pain making up for all you had gone through these last few weeks. You let her come inside, simply shutting your door as a sign that she can stay for the night.

But you’re toying with her, knowing exactly where all these pent up emotions are coming from. You don’t let her get too close, as you want to see just what she wants from you.

“Thank you, thank you” she breathes, relieved to at least be welcome in your room once more. Her shaky hand pushes back her hair to soothe herself, the ache in her body worsening as she realizes you’re wearing the smallest pair of pajama shorts she has ever seen.

It’s enough to leave her feeling dizzy, her eyes flickering back up to meet your own. “You look absolutely perfect” she mumbles, no tears to be found as she feels countless weeks worth of energy beginning to boil over.

Her words make you feel all warm inside, as you know she is all yours now. You need her just as much as she needs you but you are unwilling to confess that just yet.

So you give her a soft hum of acknowledgment at her words, simply turning away and mindlessly rearranging your bed, purposely bending over so your shorts ride up just enough for her to see your panties.

Abby is falling apart in your hands, her eyes lingering on your ass far too long. She had spent these last few weeks picturing you just like this, her fingers buried in her cunt as she got off to the thought of you.

But now here you were in all your glory, and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. With a few quick steps, she is behind you, your back pressing against her chest as she pins you down against the bed with ease.

“What the fuck” you huff, your brows furrowing as you try to squirm out of her grasp but to no avail. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, can’t you see that?” she whispers, her arms being wrapped around you so tight, scared that you would leave her at any moment.

Seconds after she speaks, her hips begin rocking against you, desperately humping your ass like a woman who had been deprived of something holy for so long. The warmth of her body combined with her little pleas makes you let out a soft moan, breathy and barely there but just enough to let Abby know that you are enjoying this.

“Jesus, Abs. M’ not going anywhere, calm down” you mutter, your words broken up by how harshly she is rubbing up against you, her movements displaying just how needy she is. Her hold on you doesn’t budge, simply focusing on your scent and how warm you feel against her.

She shakes her head feverishly, her breath warm against the back of your neck. “Need to touch you, missed you so much” she breathes frantically, as if she were in some sort of frenzy that could only be soothed by touching you.

The way she rubs up against you has your core aching, desperate for relief that only Abby could give you. “Missed you too, fuck” you huff, trying to be the one in power but failing miserably. Even in her desperate state, Abby finds a way to keep you dumb for her, your mind only filled with thoughts of her giving you the relief you have been craving for so long.

Your confession blows up Abby’s ego a massive amount, her nerves dissipating since she knew the misery she felt without you was shared between the two of you.

“Yeah, baby? You have a funny way of showing it. You’ve been such a little brat, avoiding me and not letting me touch you at all” she grunts, the rocking of her hips faltering as her mind is flooded with a need to be closely connected with you.

“M’ sorry” you huff, still a little frustrated by her previous actions which meant you were unable to be empathetic towards her. Abby pays you no mind as she stops grinding against you completely, helping you get back into an upright position by pulling you by your arms.

“Can you get on the bed for me, sweet girl?” she asks hopefully, unsure if you would even agree to what she wanted to do. Much to her surprise, you nod your head slightly and crawl onto your bed so you can make yourself comfortable.

Your chest heaves with anticipation, watching Abby’s every move to try and figure out what she wanted to do. After taking off her boots and setting them off to the side, she gets on the bed, her large frame being rather intimidating as she spreads your legs open so that she can settle between them.

She’s laying on her tummy, nuzzling her cheek against your inner thigh affectionately as she keeps her gaze focused on you. “Can I taste you, angel? Been thinking about your cunt so much, need to see her again” she mutters, sounding borderline delirious just from the idea of being able to lap at you like a woman starved.

“Mmph, just a little” you say after a moment of thinking, wanting to remind her that being able to touch you like this was a privilege that only you could give her. A pleased grin appears on her lips as you give her permission, nodding her head eagerly.

“Thank you, thank you” she breathes out, pressing a few open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs that leave you aching for more. “Gonna make you feel so good, need to make you come” she hums as she backs up, hooking her fingers under your little shorts along with your panties in one swift movement.

You feel so exposed to her, finding the feeling only adds to your arousal. Abby takes a moment to consider her options before she decides on exactly how she wants to do this.

She uses her thumb to rub soothing circles on your hips, her expression warm and comforting. “Need you to sit on my face, doll. I wanna feel all of you, want to taste all of you. Is that okay?” she questions in a pleading manner, as if she would burst into tears if you were to deny her.

The request makes your heartbeat a little faster, knowing that Abby can barely contain herself whenever she is eating you out. But after weeks of going without her attention, you’re just as needy as she is.

“It’s okay with me, just wanna feel good” you whine, unable to mask your excitement now that she was soothing you completely. She takes notice of how eager you are and decides to make it her personal mission to make you come until she’s decided you’ve had enough.

“Sweet thing, so eager” she coos, giving your hip a gentle pat as a sign for you to start switching positions. You are quick to follow her command, moving out of the way so she can lay down flat on her back. She waits for you to move, glancing at you only to find that you’ve yanked off your t-shirt, the sight of you alone pulling a porn worthy moan from her.

“That’s a good girl” she praises, so pleased that you were completely bare while she remained clothed, as it only reinforced the control she felt she had over you. Shakily, you begin to move up the bed so that you can get into the proper placement.

With your hands holding onto the wall in front of you for stability, you manage to straddle Abby’s head so that she can stare directly up at your heat. “So fucking pretty” she practically pants as she sees you in all your glory, her strong hands grasping your hips with a bruising grip.

It’s not as if you minded, as whenever she decided to show off her strength you found yourself completely enamored. “You sure this is okay, Abs? Don’t wanna hurt you…” you trail off slightly, not wanting her to be unable to breathe or anything like that.

“Baby, if I die with you sitting on my face, I will die doing what I love” she quips in a playful manner, wanting to help you relax. Her words make you smile in the slightest bit, the tension that coursed through your body now melting away.

“Shut up” you mutter playfully, her teasing remark making your tummy flutter. “As you wish” she states quickly, not giving any explanation before she pulls your hips down onto her face.

It’s a bit of a shock to feel her gentle licks against your pussy, a low gasp being pulled from you as warmth spreads throughout your lower half. She’s being messy on purpose, now licking long stripes up and down your cunt, pausing for a moment to messily kisses your clit before moving her tongue lower.

The sensation is enough to make you tremble, your hands weakly grasping at the wall as you try to stay upright. “Jus’ like that” you moan out, your folds so slick that Abby can’t stop herself from moaning due to the complete mess you’re making on her.

Your statement entices her to work harder, now tonguing as your slit to test the waters. The position is almost too perfect, her nose bumping against your clit while she obscenely slurps up all your arousal.

With the pleasure being doubled, you find yourself unable to keep your eyes open any longer, now squeezing them shut as you let ecstasy course through your being. Broken up moans leave your lips as you practically hump her face, needing her nose to rub up against your clit just a little more.

There are no complaints from Abby, as it let her know that you were feeling good. She dips her tongue into your entrance, fucking her tongue so deep into you that you swear it’s almost better than when she fucks you open on her thick fingers.

“Jesus Christ, s’ too much” you say after a string of pitiful mewls, your hips stuttering against her as the pleasure begins to reach its peak. She couldn’t care less, as she needed her fix of you or she might actually lose her mind.

Your scent consumes her whole being, you taste heavy on her tongue. It’s enough to make her ravenous, now using her firm grip on your hips to guide your movements so that you don’t have to do it by yourself. Her tongue continues to stretch you open, fucking you at a rhythmic pace that keeps pace with the way she is rocking your hips against her.

In a complete daze, you grope your tits, trying to pretend it’s her hands instead just to maximize the goodness of the feeling. And it truly works, as all the pleasure combines to make something completely blinding and overpowering.

It’s everything you’ve been craving since you began avoiding her and now it’s all yours.

“Abs, gonna come, you gotta slow down” you whine, your lungs burning from the amount of effort it takes to breathe in properly. Your pleas don’t discourage her at all, as all she chooses to focus on is that you are about to get off just from her tongue.

So she keeps her firm pace, burying her face into your cunt as if it were a sanctuary that only belonged to her. It’s all too much, the way you can feel her spit coating your folds and you can only imagine how soaked the lower half of her face must be.

You can only whine as she refuses to yield and so you find yourself rubbing teasing circles against your hardened buds, trying to match her timing. And within a moment or two, you let out an incomprehensible string of words, moaning so loud that you knew others on the base will be talking about the two of you tomorrow.

You couldn’t care less, too focused on the way the band that had tightened in your tummy had finally snapped and left you feeling euphoric. Your cunt clenches around Abby’s tongue as you come, a low whine leaving her as she feels your gummy walls tighten up even further.

You ride it out, practically bouncing against her since it was hard to move properly even with her help. But it all becomes overwhelming so quickly that you raise your hips the best you can, Abby’s hold on you fading away since she knew you needed time to recover.

After carefully changing your position, you lay down beside her, your breathing still being labored and you can’t help but smile at how much Abby is panting alongside you. The stickiness between your thighs doesn’t bother you much, much more focused on the girl who was lying beside you.

You turn onto your side, facing her enough so that you can give her a sweet kiss. You can still taste yourself on hee tongue, shivers coursing through your form as she eagerly kisses you back. It’s lazy and messy, both of you being so tired out. So you let her tongue glide against yours, moaning against her lips before she gently bites your lower lip.

She pulls away after she gets a small whine from you, a grin spreading onto her features. She is completely different from how she came into your room earlier, her eyes dazed and her whole being practically radiating warmth. You were glad to see the change, as after all that the two of you had been through, you both deserved some relief.

“You’re a mess” you state playfully, noticing that her nose and mouth were completely coated with your slick. “Good” she quips, swiping her thumb against her chin to gather up some of your leftover juices and pushing the digit into her mouth to suck it clean.

The sight leaves you feeling flustered yet strangely proud that she finds the taste of you to be so pleasing. You press your naked body against her, needing some comfort after everything that went down today.

She is quick to wrap you up in her arms, not even caring if you make a mess on her clothes. “You did so good, baby. You’re all mine” she hums soothingly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you hide your face against her chest.

You don’t reply, simply wanting to let her words sink in and make you feel safe once more. Abby would never force you to speak, especially when she can tell you’re so sensitive and tired. It’s as if the two of you are having your first time together once more, but this time had much more being for both of you.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as she mindlessly traces shapes along your back to keep you at ease. But she just can’t help herself, not when she has been aching to make you come multiple times.

“You still got my strap, angel? I think you can take a little more, hm?” she questions, her voice low and soft. The suggestion has your eyes going wide, always amazed by her stamina. You were more than eager to comply, raising your head so you can nod quickly.

“Gonna fuck you nice and stupid so you can sleep well” she states calmly, as if it were the most natural statement ever. With the way it rolls off her tongue with ease, you can almost convince yourself that it is normal.

A lazy grin crosses your features as you take in the idea of her burying her thick strap into your cunt. “S’ still in the closet— if you wanna…” you whisper timidly, suddenly feeling shy under her persistent gaze.

“Of course I want to, sweet girl. Tonight is all about you, I swear” she states smoothly, giving you a quick kiss as she begins to get up to search for exactly what she needs.

Although you’re in for a long night, you couldn’t be more excited to be sharing it with her.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson angst #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2

2K notes · View notes

yvesette · 4 months

Text

WE GOT MARRIED!

ִ ࣪𖤐 ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── choi seungcheol

SUMMARY: ── the premise of the popular reality show, "we got married," was simple: you and another celebrity would pretend to be married for two weeks, navigating various romantic and domestic challenges together. when your partner turns out to be choi seungcheol however, feelings complicate your perception of reality.

PAIRING: [choi seungcheol (s.coups) x f!reader] GENRE: [eventual smut, domestic fluff, angst, idol!au, fake dating, one bed, all the good shit]

CW: afab!reader, nicknames (angel, babygirl, baby, good girl), arguing (it’s sorted out), soft!dom ?? + pussydrunk cheol, big!dick cheol, fingering, penetration, safe sex (ofc), possessive!cheol, hair pulling, light choking

℘　　◌　　﹒　⠀ ꢾ꣒⠀　 ׅ⠀ㅤ　⑅

── pre-show interview:

interviewer: "thank you for joining us today! can you tell us a little about yourself and what initially made you hesitant to join 'we got married'?"

you fiddle with your hands and compose yourself into a smile.

“of course. i’m y/n, and to be honest, when i was first approached about the show, i had a lot of reservations. being an idol, my life is already under constant scrutiny, and the idea of faking a marriage on national television was daunting. i was worried about how my fans would react and whether I'd be able to genuinely connect with my on-screen partner."

interviewer: "what eventually convinced you to participate?"

you think, “it was a mix of curiosity and encouragement from my friends and management. they believed it would be a good opportunity for me to show a different side of myself, one that isn't always visible on stage. plus, the idea of experiencing something as unique as a reality show marriage was too intriguing to pass up."

interviewer: "do you know who your partner will be yet?

you smile nervously, “no, i don't. it’s a complete surprise for me. all i know is that it's someone from a well-known group. i’m really curious to find out who it is!"

interviewer: "that must be exciting! can you share what your ideal type is for the camera?”

you grin thoughtfully, “my ideal type is someone who is kind-hearted and takes care of the people around them. they should have a strong sense of responsibility but also listen and understand. a good sense of humor is a must — oh and physically, i guess i find myself drawn to someone with a warm smile and expressive eyes. someone who can be both charismatic on stage and down-to-earth in everyday life."

interviewer: "finally, do you have any worries or concerns going into the show?"

you: "i’m a bit worried about how awkward it might be at first. there’s always that initial nervousness when meeting someone new, and this situation is quite intense. i hope we can get past that quickly and have a good time together.”

—

day 1:

you stood in front of the door to a luxurious townhome, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides. this would be your new home for the next two weeks. the camera crew gave you a nod, signaling it was time to head inside. taking a deep breath, you open the door and step into the living room, where a warm, cozy ambiance greets you. as you set your bag down, you hear the sound of the front door opening again. you turn, breath caught in your throat, and a man, looking slightly familiar to you, enters the room.

he was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with dark jeans that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. his broad shoulders and well-defined chest were subtly outlined by the fabric of his shirt, hinting at the strength beneath. the open collar revealed a glimpse of his collarbones, which added an effortlessly sexy touch to his appearance and you thanked god you’d been paired with someone this attractive, as selfish as it sounded. his face was a perfect blend of boyish charm and mature masculinity and his dark hair was styled in a slightly tousled manner.

the man in front of you carried a polite smile. for a moment, you both stood there, slightly taken aback by the reality of the situation.then, as if on cue, you both bowed to each other in polite, awkward unison. "hello!" you said at the same time, voices overlapping. realizing what happened, you both laughed nervously and bowed again, this time with even more formality.

“hi, i’m y/n," you said, smiling despite your nerves.

“i’m seungcheol. it’s nice to meet you,” he said, returning your smile.

there was a brief pause as you both sized each other up, trying to gauge the other's reaction. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place it.

your heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned on you and you remembered his face from music and award shows. you were almost certain the man in front of you was a member of seventeen and your mind was almost more eased you were paired with another idol.

as you shook his hand, your mind raced with a million thoughts. should you mention that you know who he is? would it be weird? awkward?

before you could decide, seungcheol spoke again, his voice cheerful and inviting, “i know this is a bit of an odd situation, but let's make these two weeks memorable, okay?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his face and your cheeks flushed slightly.

the first task was to explore the house together, finding little notes and hints left by the producers about upcoming challenges and activities. as you moved from room to room, seungcheol’s playful nature shined through. he made jokes about the odd decorations and even tried on an oversized apron in the kitchen, to which he realized how easily he could make you laugh.

in the living room, you found a note instructing you to cook your first meal together. seungcheol looked at you with genuine curiosity in his eyes. "do you cook often?"

you shook your head, “i try, but i’m not the best. how about you?”

he shrugged, “i can manage, could you hand me those eggs?”

working side by side in the kitchen, you both stumbled through the recipe, exchanging glances and giggles as you tried to make sense of the instructions. seungcheol’s presence was comforting; his easygoing demeanor made it feel less like a staged activity and you had to remind yourself of your situation every once in a while.

“careful!" you warned as he nearly knocked over a bowl of flour.

“oops," he laughed, catching it just in time. "oh my god, thanks for warning me.”

when the meal was finally ready, you both sat down at the coffee table, a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie settling in.

“you know," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, "i have to admit, i was a bit of a fan of yours before this."

you almost spit out your food and your eyes widen in surprise, “you were?”

he nodded, a shy smirk playing on his lips. "yeah, i may or may not have listened to…a few, songs.”

you couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of disbelief, “well," you said, unable to hide the smile on your face, "i guess we both have some fangirling/fanboying to do then.”

seungcheol chuckled before taking a sip of his drink, “looks like we're off to a good start then."

later that evening, as you both settled on the couch to go over the day's events, you found yourself stealing glances at seungcheol when he wasn't looking. the cameras captured every moment, but by now, they had become background noise. seungcheol’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, his presence reassuring.

"so what did you think of our first day together?" seungcheol asked, turning to you with a gentle smile.

you smiled back, feeling more at ease now. "honestly , it was fun. a bit overwhelming at first, but i think we handled it pretty well."

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. "yeah , i think so too. it’s all about getting comfortable with each other, right?"

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "exactly."

as the night continued, the two of you talked about your experiences in the industry, sharing stories and laughing over funny moments. the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common. it was easy to forget the cameras were even there.

—

day 5:

it had been a few days of filming and your arranged marriage with the charming seungcheol was off to an...interesting start. between the awkward getting-to-know-you interviews and staged "newlywed" activities for the cameras, you were still trying to find your footing in this bizarre situation.

one minute, you and seungcheol were bickering like an old married couple over whose turn it was to do the dishes, (it would always end with him insisting he did the chore.) the next, you'd catch him shooting you an ambiguous look from under those ridiculously long lashes, causing a fluttery feeling to erupt in your stomach. it was a constant back-and-forth of feeling flustered yet intrigued by your new husband.

today, the production crew had you and seungcheol participate in a silly pillow fight "challenge" meant to showcase your playful newlywed dynamic. what started off as an innocent, goofy bout of whacking each other with the plush objects quickly devolved into an all-out war.

giggling breathlessly, you launched another fluffy projectile at seungcheol’s head, who had now affectionately insisted you call him cheol.

he taunted with a roguish grin, deflecting your pillow attack.

you both scrambled for ammunition, whacking each other relentlessly. you shrieked as a particularly fierce blow sent you tumbling backwards onto the bed.

in a flash, seungcheol pounced - pinning your wrists above your head as he straddled your waist. his sculpted body pressed against yours, stealing your breath away.

"i win," he murmured huskily, drinking in your flushed, disheveled state. a few dark strands of hair had fallen over his forehead, making him look ridiculously pretty and you both froze as the heated tension reached a tipping point, chests heaving from the exertion of your pillow fight.

then, all at once, realization seemed to wash over both of you. this had crossed a line, strayed too far from the realm of pretend into something that felt a little too real for your comfort. seungcheol quickly released your wrists and rolled off you, running a flustered hand through his tousled hair as the cameras cut and the producers applaud your chemistry ‘played up’ for the show.

“i…sorry, i got a bit carried away there," he muttered gruffly, unable to meet your eyes.

you pushed yourself into a sitting position, clutching a pillow protectively to your chest. “no, it's...yeah, me too," you mumbled, cheeks burning.

as seungcheol swiftly excused himself, you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper and more complicated had been irrevocably awakened on your end, you watched your fake husband’s broad back retreating towards the door, then he paused and glanced over his shoulder at you.

despite the flustered awkwardness of moments before, his gaze openly raked over your disheveled form in a way that made heat lick through your veins. you clutched the pillow tighter, suddenly feeling very exposed under his molten perusal.

as quickly as the blazing look had appeared, it faded to a neutral expression once more as he gave you a brisk nod. "i’ll...see you later," he murmured in a rough rasp before ducking out of the room, leaving you flushed and wondering what the hell had just happened.

—

day 9:

the sweltering summer heat had prompted the producers to film a scene with you and seungcheol enjoying some relaxation at the rooftop pool.

you tried not to stare too openly as seungcheol stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned, sculpted torso that made your mouth go dry. rivulets of glistening water trailed tantalizing paths down those firm abs as he sank into the cool pool with a contented sigh.

“you coming in or what, y/n?" he flashed you a lopsided grin, sending your pulse into an erratic stutter.

shaking yourself free of your momentary thirst, you made a big show of daintily dipping a toe in to test the temperature, “oh my god it’s freezing.” you step out of the water onto the poolside and shiver from the contact.

cheol arches an incredulous brow at your overly dramatic reaction. then without warning, he kicked up an arched wave that splashed you squarely in the face.

you sputtered in outraged shock as he cackled at your drenched, bedraggled state. you cursed at him and then tilted your head, “oh you’re gonna get it now…”

retaliating, you cannonballed directly towards him, prompting a yelp as he tried dodging the cascading wall of water.

what started as an innocent pool dip quickly devolved into an all-out splash fight, filled with laughter and shrieks, water spraying everywhere. at one point, seungcheol grabbed you around the waist from behind, holding you flush against his chest as you squealed and squirmed playfully...

as the sun dipped low on the horizon, it set the sky ablaze with vibrant shades of orange and red bled across the heavens, intermingling with streaks of brilliant pink and lavender. the surface of the rooftop pool shimmered like liquid amber, endlessly rippling and refracting the spectacular colors above.

as the playful battle subsided, you found yourselves standing chest-deep, catching your breath. seungcheol, hair plastered to his forehead, offered you a sheepish grin. his hand, reaching out to brush a stray strand from your eye, hesitated in mid-air.

the air crackled with a sudden tension, a shift from playful banter to something more intense. you held his gaze, unsure of where this unexpected touch might lead. the playful facade, for a moment, seemed to falter, revealing a vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine.

as the camera crew wrapped their filming of the segment momentarily, cheol leaned against the pool deck, catching his breath, while you treaded water, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“you know," seungcheol said, his voice slightly breathless, "for someone who almost drowned me with pool water ten minutes ago - you’re pretty fun to do this whole fake marriage this with.”

his compliment caught you off guard, a blush creeping up your cheeks. you looked away, fiddling with the straps of your swimsuit and snorted, “you would have survived, trust.”

you bit your lip, “but you’re not…awful, to do this with. i’m glad it was you.”

his biceps flexed as he pushed himself off the wall, the water cascading down his toned arms. he smiled and ran a hand through his hair, which was now drying in messy waves.

you had to admit to yourself, in another situation, he was pretty close to your type. your mind took a sharp turn and a thrilling image of cheol, those big arms holding you close, pinning you down. he could easily manhandle you, and the thought sent a forbidden thrill through you.

taking a deep breath, you forced your gaze away from him, the delicious heat replaced by a cold wave of reality.

—

that evening, the producers insisted that as a "newly married couple," you and seungcheol needed to share the bedroom set for an authentic experience. your heart pounded as the camera crew ushered you both into the dimly lit bedroom, pulling the covers back invitingly.

"alright you two, get nice and cozy for us!" the director called out teasingly. "we’ll get some candid footage of your first night spent in the same room together as husband and wife."

you shot seungcheol an awkward look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile as he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the cameras rolled as you climbed stiffly into bed together, maintaining a prim distance at first.

however, as soon as the crew lights winked off and you were left in intimate shadows, cheol’s touch grew bolder. his arm snaked more fully around you, hand skimming along your curves as he tugged you flush against his solid frame and he watched your face for approval.

"just go with it for the cameras," he murmured in your ear, making you shiver at the feel of his warm breath fanning your neck.

you gave a shaky nod, trying to ignore the rampant spiraling spawning low in your belly from his nearness. but as the man next to you nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a contented sigh, you felt yourself instinctively relaxing into his embrace.

before long, the camera crew was dismissing themselves, leaving you and seungcheol tangled together intimately. you started to pull away, murmuring about giving him some space, but his arms only tightened around you.

“stay," he rumbled in that deep velvety tone that made heat curl low in your belly. "please. just for tonight."

you couldn't help but overthink the situation as you lay cocooned in seungcheol’s strong arms later that night. his slow, even breathing tickled the nape of your neck as he slumbered peacefully behind you.

this whole scenario - cuddling intimately, sharing a bed, his persistent insistence that you stay - it was quickly becoming difficult for you to differentiate reality and the fake of your friendship, or whatever you could call it.

realistically, there was no way seungcheol actually had romantic feelings for you, right? you were just some virtual stranger he'd been assigned to act affectionate towards for the sake of entertainment.

no, you reasoned to yourself, cheol was simply an incredibly dedicated performer who happened to be devastatingly good-looking. he was merely playing the role of an infatuated newlywed husband exceptionally well. all those lingering looks, the electrifying touches, the way he'd pulled you insistently into his embrace - it was just him staying committed to the act. you were just a tolerable person for him to pretend to be married to for the cameras. that’s all this was. if you started projecting more meaning onto your partner’s actions, reading into lingering touches and heated glances, you'd only end up getting your hopes up and complicating things.

chewing your lip, you willed yourself not to dwell on the intimacy of your current position - pressed snugly back against his toned chest, legs tangled together, breaths mingling. it didn’t mean anything. he was just...really, really good at making this fake marriage feel real.

you lay there for a long while, keenly aware of every rise and fall of seungcheol’s chest against your back, the whisper of his warm breath fanning your nape. his arm was a solid, heated band around your waist, anchoring you to his slumbering form.

carefully, you began extracting yourself from his arms, trying not to rouse him. he made a soft grumbling sound of protest as you slipped out of bed, his arm reflexively tightening for a moment before falling away. you froze, watching him with bated breath, but he merely rolled onto his back with a gusty sigh, face relaxing back into peaceful slumber.

for a long moment, you simply stood there drinking in the sight of him - all tousled ebony hair, chiseled features, lips slightly parted as he slumbered. your heart gave a powerful thud, desperate longing temporarily overwhelming rationality.

then, you wrenched your gaze away, wrapping your arms around yourself as you crept towards the door on soft feet and went to your separate bedroom. this was for the best. putting some distance between you before things inevitably became more tangled and awkward.

—

day 12:

"you’re burning it!" seungcheol suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the pan on the stove where the sauce was starting to smoke.

by late afternoon, you were both working on preparing dinner in the kitchen. the producers had given you a complex recipe to follow, and the pressure was mounting. seungcheol was chopping vegetables while you tried to manage the stove, but things weren't going as planned.

you glanced over, feeling flustered. "i know, i know! i’m trying to fix it!"

"well, you need to do it faster! we can't serve burnt food," he retorted, his tone sharper than you expected.

you felt a surge of irritation. "why don't you come over here and do it then if you're so concerned?"

seungcheol put down the knife he was holding, his jaw tightening. "i’m just trying to help. there’s no need to get defensive."

you turn off the stove and face him, your frustration boiling over. "it feels like you're criticizing everything i’m doing. this is supposed to be fun but—“ you sigh.

seungcheol’s expression softened slightly, but he didn't back down. "i’m not trying to criticize you. i’m just stressed because i want this to turn out well. we’re both under a lot of pressure.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. you felt a warmth bloom in your cheeks, a prickling awareness that transcended the confines of the tiny kitchen. it wasn't just the heat from the stove anymore; it was the sudden, electrifying tension that crackled between you.

whatever this "show marriage" was quickly becoming, it was growing increasingly difficult to remember it wasn't real.

his gaze held yours, a storm brewing in his dark eyes. was it just the stress of the competition, or was there something more? maybe it was the way his thumb brushed against yours as he reached for a spatula, a touch that lingered a beat too long. maybe it was the way his voice seemed to drop an octave whenever he spoke directly to you.

the air grew thick, the playful banter of the morning replaced by a charged silence. you weren't talking simply about cooking anymore. this felt like something more, something simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

suddenly, a loud clang from the living room shattered the spell. the cameraman had accidentally knocked over a vase, the sound breaking the intimate bubble you'd somehow created. seungcheol offered a grin of reconciliation, the tension momentarily broken.

as you both cleaned up the broken vase, a playful jab exchanged here and there, you couldn't shake the feeling that cheol’s feelings for you mirrored your own. maybe it was just wishful thinking, fueled by the close proximity and manufactured intimacy of the show. but a tiny, hopeful spark ignited within you. perhaps, just perhaps, this fake marriage could be a gateway into something else.

the air crackled with an unspoken apology after your argument in the kitchen. the rest of the day was filmed in a tense silence, punctuated only by the polite pleasantries expected for the cameras. seungcheol stole glances at you every now and then, his gaze laced with regret, but you studiously avoided his eyes.

dinner was a quiet affair, the weight of the fight hanging heavy between you. as the last crew member packed up their equipment and said their goodbyes, a heavy sigh escaped seungcheol’s lips. you remembered you only had two more days left with him before you parted ways and continued your daily, busy lives.

you lean against the doorframe of cheol’s assigned bedroom. he’s reading something foreign and doesn’t notice your presence at first. "hey," you started hesitantly, the artificiality of your fabricated married life suddenly feeling suffocating. he looked up, his eyes filled with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

"i shouldn't have snapped at you," he said, his voice rough. "this whole thing... the pressure, the cameras... it just — you know, gets to me sometimes.”

you understood. the world only saw the polished, perfect idols on stage, not the stress and anxieties that gnawed at them behind the scenes. partially this show felt like a risk of balance between speculation and approval. “i know," you admitted softly, surprised at the tremor in your voice. "it gets to me too."

silence settled again, but this time it wasn't tense. it was a comfortable quiet, an unspoken understanding blooming between you.

you took a seat on the mattress and asked him what he was reading.

“amour,” he says, flipping the book over to show you the cover.

“amour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "isn’t that french for love?"

cheol rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "yeah, it is. found it at the airport bookstore. it’s about a journalist who travels around france asking people about love."

a playful glint sparked in your eyes. "funny," you said, tracing the title with your finger, “didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

a wry smile tugged at the corner of seungcheol's lips. "maybe i’m just curious," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur that made you nervous. "especially after all this... 'pretend' marriage stuff." he paused, his gaze flickering from the book to your face. "maybe the line between pretending and feeling is a little more blurry than we thought."

he words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. the playful banter you'd used as a shield these past 2 weeks suddenly felt inadequate. you met his gaze, the air crackling with a new kind of tension.

"maybe it is," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

the glint in your eyes softened into something deeper, something that mirrored the sudden intensity in cheol’s gaze. he set his book down on the nightstand with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence that had descended upon the room.

he took a slow movement towards you across the bed, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your breath catch. you could practically feel the unspoken question hanging in the air, a question your heart already knew the answer to. there was a palpable tension between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer.

without another word, seungcheol closed the remaining distance between you. his hand reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. his thumb brushed against your soft skin, a gentle caress that spoke volumes. it was as if he was trying to communicate everything he felt in that simple touch, the unspoken emotions and the growing connection between you.

his eyes flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, asking for permission without uttering a single word. you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, your heart pounding in your chest.

then, he leaned in. the kiss was hesitant at first, a soft exploration that tasted of unspoken longing and a newfound vulnerability. hips lips were warm and tender against yours, moving with a gentleness that made your heart ache and charged with the electricity of forbidden desire and the sweetness of a connection that transcended the cameras and the manufactured reality of your "marriage."

as the kiss deepened, seungcheol’s other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. you responded instinctively, your hands sliding up to rest on his broad shoulders. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. the kiss grew more passionate, an unspoken promise of the bond forming between you.

his fingers threaded through your hair, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. the heat of his body pressed against yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart mirroring your own. every touch, every movement was filled with a mix of tenderness and urgency, a dance of emotions that neither of you could deny any longer.

in one swift movement, seungcheol lifted you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you securely. the sudden shift made you gasp, breaking the kiss momentarily. he took advantage of your parted lips, diving back in with a new intensity. his hand tangled in your hair, gripping it roughly as he deepened the kiss. the raw hunger in his actions satisfied a need you’d had since the moment you met him and ignited a new thirst in you for more than a kiss.

his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your jaw and neck. seungcheol’s breath was warm against your skin, each kiss sending shivers down your spine. "cheol-ie," you breathed out, your voice shaky with desire. "i’ve needed you so bad.”

he groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating through you and making your core tighten with need. "you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you babygirl,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. the nickname makes you feel weak in his arms as they roam over your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

you began to move against him, grinding your hips down on his lap. the friction elicited a deep, guttural moan from his chest, his grip on your hair tightening. his lips continued their path along your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. each touch, each kiss, was driving you both closer to the edge.

your hands slid under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and see the body you’d thought about and fantasized about at the pool. his muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out another low groan. the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you grind harder against him.

feeling the need for more, you reached for the hem of your top, and without hesitation, cheol’s hands followed suit, helping you remove the garment until it fell forgotten to the floor. his eyes drank in the sight before him, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. with a passion that matched your own, he leaned in to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, his movements urgent and commanding.

seungcheol’s hands moved to your breasts, his touch sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. his lips followed suit, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone before finding their way to your exposed skin. the sensation of his warm mouth on your sensitive flesh made you gasp, a moan escaping your lips as you arched into his touch.

as he sucked and massaged your breasts with a hunger that bordered on desperation, you couldn't help but whine his name, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of desire.

his only response was a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you.

cheol’s hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements and matching your rhythm. the sensation of his hardness pressing against you was intoxicating, heightening the desire coursing through your veins. “i need you," he whispered hoarsely against your neck, his breath hot and heavy.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. the intensity you saw there took your breath away. "i need you too, cheol," you whispered back, your voice filled with the same raw need.

"show me," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative tone. "show me how much you want me."

you bit your lip and your mind was urging you to shed the last remnants of clothing separating you from seungcheol’s touch. with a sense of urgency, you sat up, for just a moment to rid yourself of your pajama shorts and panties. he gently helped you slip out of the remainder of your clothes until you were completely bare in front of him.

as you returned to straddle him, seungcheol’s eyes darkened with possessiveness, his slightly dumbfounded gaze raking over your exposed form with undisguised lust. you reached for his hand, guiding it to where you needed him most.

his fingers moved in circles with a skill and reverence that bordered on worship. as he teased and caressed you with one hand, his other grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into his orbit.

"cheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as his touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. "pl-please, want you inside of me..”

his response was a low, guttural growl, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he pressed his fingers against your throbbing center, the sensation driving you crazy, and leaned against your ear, “i know angel, i know, need to prep you.”

he slipped two long fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. you couldn't help but arch impossibly back into his touch, a high pitched moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely. his fingers curled inside you and slipped in and out, stretching you and sending waves of pleasure over you that you could feel building closer and closer to your climax.

cheol pulled your face closer to his by your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and whispered in his deep voice words of praise, “you’re so good for me.” his voice was rough in responsive to your obedience.

“such a good girl.”

the words sent a thrill through you, and your breathing that had gotten more quick by the second let all the air escape from your lungs as you completely gave in to the sensations in your body. you reached your peak screaming his name and collapsing onto the bed with your back. now on top of you, cheol guided you down from your high, and his movements became slower and more gentle until his fingers pulled out of you.

you felt his hand move to your lips, gently pressing against them. with a mix of hesitation and curiosity, you parted your lips, allowing cheol to guide his fingers inside your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“that’s it babygirl,” he said, a low groan escaping his lips. the sight of you, so willing and eager for his touch, only fueled the fire burning inside of him. he pulls his fingers from your mouth to press gentle kisses on your lips and your cheek - a sharp contrast from the intensity that had taken over him before.

as the passion of the moment continued to build, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. seungcheol’s arousal was evident, his desire matching your own in its fervor. a surge of need washed over you, and you found yourself craving him in a way that was almost overwhelming.

desperation clawed at your insides, urging you to beg for him, to plead with him to take you in his arms and fuck you until you saw stars. but as you glanced into his eyes, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a hint of fear lurking beneath the surface.

you reached for him, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through his pants. the intensity of his desire was palpable, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. you wanted him, needed him, in a way that bordered on obsession. but as you moved to undo his pants, you felt him hesitate, his hands shaking slightly. "i…i don’t know if i can," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with a sigh.

you whispered, your voice soft and filled with sincerity. "i want this, with you."

a flicker of relief flashed across his features, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your words. but the worry still lingered in his eyes, the fear of causing you pain evident in every line of his expression. he reached down to free his member from the confines of his sweatpants, discarding the clothing with a swift movement. as his length sprang free, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight before you. he was almost comically big, his arousal standing proudly against his abdomen, thick and pulsing with desire.

a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through you as you watched him, desire pooling low in your belly. you couldn't help but wonder how he was going to fit inside of you, the thought sending a thrill of anticipation racing through you. seungcheol reached for his wallet on the nightstand, retrieving a condom with practiced ease and slipped it on.

cheol lifted your legs over his head, moving himself between them, a gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change in position. you felt him slowly enter you, his size stretching you in a way that was both exhilarating and slightly painful. the stretch stung, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body, but it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, filling you completely and leaving you breathless with desire.

“‘s-so big,” was all you could breathe out with awe in your voice.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmured with both hands holding your legs over his shoulder so he could stretch you out as much as possible. bottoming out, he studied your face for signs of discomfort and deciding he could move. as seungcheol began to thrust gently at first, you felt his movements cautious and tender, as if he were testing the waters. each slow push and pull sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, his size stretching you in ways that ignited a fire deep within.

“feels so fucking good, your perfect pussy…” he groans into your neck.

you couldn't help but vocalize how good you felt as well, “don’t stop baby, please.”

something about that nickname makes his movements became more urgent, more desperate, as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of being inside you. with each thrust, you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. his thrusts became rougher, more dominant, as he took control of the rhythm. with a growl of desire, he reached for your throat, his grip firm but not constricting.

the sensation of his hand around your neck sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you, the combination of pleasure and pain driving you wild with desire. "who makes you feel this good?" he demanded, his voice rough with need.

you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "you," you screamed, your voice filled with rawness. "It's you, cheol."

he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, positioning you perfectly for him to take you from behind. you gasped at the sudden change in position, the feeling of vulnerability and excitement coursing through you. but before you could react, seungcheol’s hands were on you, grabbing your ass possessively as he pulled you towards him. the sensation of his grip on your flesh sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, curved for him to hit your perfect angle.

as you thought you couldn't take any more, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pulling you back towards him with a force that left you breathless. “want you to be mine..” he choked out, his words claiming you.

“‘m yours," you gasped, your voice surrendering yourself completely. with a final, desperate thrust, cheol buried himself deep inside you, sending you both hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. pleasure exploded through every nerve ending in your body as you both reached the peak together, your cries of passion mingling in the air as you rode out the waves of bliss together.

seungcheol slowly withdrew from you and as you caught your breathe, he removed the condom, discarding it thoughtfully before turning his attention back to you. his demeanor shifted, his previous intensity giving way to a tender concern. leaning in, he pressed soft kisses to your tired face, his touch gentle and reassuring. "are you okay?" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he traced a soothing hand along your sweaty cheek.

you nodded, a contented smile gracing your lips as you bask in the warmth of his affection.

he tenderly cleaned you with a warm, damp cloth that he quickly fetched from the bathroom, his movements gentle and careful as he ensured tour comfort. once satisfied, he disposed of the cloth and returned to your side, pulling the covers over the both of your naked bodies.

you lay in each other's arms, the quiet of the room enveloping them like a comforting embrace. the air was filled with a sense of contentment but also questions rang through your mind. unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you spoke up. "cheol, earlier... did you mean what you said?" you asked, her voice tentative yet filled with hope.

seungcheol turned to you, his gaze soft yet filled with meaning. “every word," he replied, his voice steady and sure. “if you want — then you’re mine, and i’m yours.”

your mind buzzed with uncertainty and you sigh, snuggling closer to him. the realization that your time together on the show was fleeting weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over the intimacy you had shared.

"seungcheol," you begin, switching from the nickname you’d been using. “i can’t help but wonder...after filming ends, what happens to us? we haven't known each other for long, and...” you gnawed at your lip, “what if we’re just caught in the moment?”

his expression faltered, a flicker of hurt flashing across his features at your words. he had been so certain of your connection, so confident in the depth of your feelings for each other, that your doubts came as a painful blow.

he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "caught in the moment?" he repeated, his voice filled with an anxiety-ridden tone you had never heard before. "is that really what you think this is?"

your chest clenched at the anguish in seungcheol’s eyes, the weight of your words settling heavily between the two of you. you hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't realized the impact your doubts would have on him.

"no, seungcheol, that's not what i meant," you hurried to explain, sitting up — your voice thick with regret. "i just... i’m scared. scared that what we have isn't enough to survive once the cameras stop rolling."

seungcheol sat up, shoulders slumped, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on him like a boulder. "i need some time to think," he said, his voice strained. without another word, he stood up, dressed himself with the clothes he’d discarded on the floor as you protested, and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the silence.

you curled up under the covers, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt.

—

day 13:

the next morning dawned with a heavy sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. as you emerged from your room, the weight of last night’s conversation still pressed on your chest. cheol was already in the kitchen, his back turned to you as he prepared breakfast. the usual warmth and easy smiles were conspicuously absent.

"good morning," you said softly, trying to break the tension.

"morning," he replied flatly, not turning to face you. his tone was distant, a stark contrast to the intimate moments you had shared just hours before.

breakfast was a quiet affair, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. every clink of cutlery felt amplified, every glance avoided a reminder of the rift that had formed.

filming started shortly after, the crew bustling around to set up the day’s scenes. you and seungcheol went through the motions, but the chemistry that had once made your interactions effortless now felt forced. the cameras captured your strained smiles and awkward pauses, the tension between you palpable.

by the end of the day, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved tension was nearly unbearable. as the crew packed up and the lights dimmed, you felt a deep sense of despair settle in. the connection that had once felt so strong now seemed fragile.

the newly familiar routine of brushing your teeth and changing into pajamas felt strangely hollow without seungcheol’s presence by your side. as you slipped under the covers, the cool sheets seemed to amplify the emptiness of the space beside you.

—

day 14:

the next day dawned with a sense of finality, the knowledge that it was the last day of filming adding a layer of bittersweet tension to the air. you went through your morning routine mechanically, each action feeling heavy with the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions between you and your fake husband.

the filming started early, the crew bustling around to capture the last few scenes of your time together. you and seungcheol interacted politely, tension still lingering. you found yourself stealing glances at him, wishing for a moment alone to bridge the gap, but the demands of filming left little room for personal conversations. the day moved swiftly, and before you knew it, it was time for the post-show interview.

—

post-show interview:

you sat in the brightly lit room, the camera trained on you as the producer asked the final questions. the weight of the moment pressed on you, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

interviewer: "so, how do you feel now that the show is ending?”

her voice was gentle but probing.

you paused, considering your words carefully. "its been an amazing experience," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "i’ve learned so much about myself and about what i want in a relationship. and...i’ve come to care for seungcheol deeply. more than i expected."

the interviewer leaned in, sensing the depth of your emotions.

interviewer: “can you elaborate on that? how has your relationship with seungcheol evolved?"

you nodded, your heart pounding. "at first, it was just about getting to know each other, but as the days went by, i found myself feeling…a certain way about him. he’s kind, supportive, and has this way of making me feel seen and valued. i’ve realized that i fell for him and that my feelings were real.”

a pang of regret hit you, remembering your doubts and the hurt in cheol’s eyes. you wondered if you should share your feelings fully, fearing the consequences of the media. but then, you decided—if there was a chance that he would see this interview when the show aired, perhaps he would understand the depth of your feelings and know that you regretted your words.

“i’ve fallen for seungcheol," you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. "and i regret the doubts i voiced. i wish i could take them back. i hope... i hope he can see how much he means to me."

the interviewer smiled softly, sensing the raw emotion in your words and the scoop she had just gotten. “thank you for sharing that," she said gently. "it’s clear that this experience has been transformative for you."

—

the weeks after the show wrapped up were a whirlwind of activity as you dived back into your work. your agency had announced a comeback, and preparations were in full swing, leaving little time for anything else. yet, despite the hectic schedule, thoughts of seungcheol lingered in the back of your mind, a constant undercurrent to your busy days. you cherished the rare quiet moments in your dorm, where you could catch up with your girl friends or simply relax. even during these times, you found yourself checking your phone, hoping for a message from the person you longed for. as the days passed with no word, a sense of uncertainty grew, mingled with the hope that he would reach out once the show aired.

when the show finally did air, you watched your post-show interview with bated breath, wondering how seungcheol would react. the raw honesty of your confession, the vulnerability you had shown, left you feeling exposed but kept you waiting next to your phone.

then, the call came. hearing cheol’s voice, filled with emotion and understanding, was like a balm to your weary heart. his words of reconciliation and his desire to give your relationship a real chance were everything you had hoped for. the prospect of meeting him off-camera, to explore your connection without the pressures of the show, filled you with a renewed sense of excitement and somewhat worry.

the next day, you found yourself standing outside a small, cozy café, your heart racing with anticipation. the door opened, and there he was—your same old cheol, looking just as nervous and hopeful as you felt.

he smiled as he saw you, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. "hey," he said softly, stepping closer.

"hey," you replied, your voice quiet and your eyes watery.

without another word, he pulled you into a hug, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace, the familiar scent of him, it all felt right.

you both sat down, ordering drinks and talking about everything and nothing. the conversation flowed easily, the tension from the show slowly melting away as you reconnected on a deeper, more personal level.

"i’ve been thinking about you every day," he confessed, his hand reaching out to cover yours. "i want to explore this, see where it leads. no cameras, no scripts—just us."

you nodded, tears of happiness glistening in your eyes. "i want that too, cheol. i want us to have a real chance."

as seungcheol and you left the café, a small crowd had gathered outside, eager to catch a glimpse of the two of you together. camera flashes illuminated the sidewalk as fan-sites and news networks alike snapped photos, their interest palpable in the air. reporters shouted questions, their voices blending into a cacophony of speculation about your relationship.

online, netizens dissected every detail, analyzing photos and videos from the show and your recent café outing. comments and posts flooded social media platforms, with hashtags trending worldwide. the public's curiosity and excitement seemed to know no bounds as they speculated about the nature of your relationship.

cheol took to his instagram, posting a photo of the two of you holding hands outside the café with a quote from “amour,” the novel he had read previously.

— “ there will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. “

—

end.

2K notes · View notes

likeumeanit9497 · 4 months

Text

in the clouds | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt is taking y/n home to boston to meet his parents for the first time, and y/n would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. but once they've been in the air for a few hours and boredom begins to get to them both, they find a way to occupy themselves.

warnings: smut; established relationship; mutual masturbation; p in v; dirty talk; a little fluff if you squint; unprotected sex; 18+

notes: i wrote this suuuuper quick so def not my best work, but it's been a while since i posted something so i wanted to get something up here. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Have a great flight.” The lady at the terminal gate said to me with a smile as she handed me my scanned ticket. “Thank you.” I replied before walking towards my boyfriend, Matt, who was waiting for me a few feet ahead. Once I reached him, he grabbed my hand and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “You ready?” He asked, to which I inhaled a deep breath and nodded apprehensively.

Matt and I met at a party about eight months ago, and had hit it off right away. I had been drawn in by his sunken blue eyes and withdrawn behaviour that night, but grew hooked by his kind nature and complex personality once we began speaking regularly. We made it official less than a month after meeting, and had been inseparable since. Our relationship developed into something quite serious rather quickly, but things still somehow felt new and exciting everyday.

Today, we were flying back to his hometown in Boston, where I was going to meet his parents for the first time. Although he had reassured me countless times that MaryLou and Jimmy were going to love me, I couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by meeting two of the most important people in Matt’s life. Not only that, but I had also never been in a relationship that grew serious enough to meet the parents of my significant other before now; so the unknown territory made the whole ordeal all the more daunting.

Matt’s triplet brothers Chris and Nick had left for Boston the day before, as I had to stay in Los Angeles an extra day for work. This added another unsettling element, as I had grown so used to the presence of the other two on a day-to-day basis. However, what that meant was Matt and I had a good excuse to buy first class tickets instead of the usual economy tickets. This brought me some relief, as I had never sat in first class before and knew that I would be able to relax much easier than I had on previous flights.

Arriving at the front of the plane, we were guided by the flight attendant to the fifth row of seats and I gasped. In front of me was a spacious row with just two large seats. The seats were joined together — separated only by an arm rest — but both had a ridiculous amount of leg room, and there was even a privacy curtain available to use at the end of the aisle.

“Oh my god Matt, this one row is almost as big as my entire bedroom at home!” I exclaimed excitedly before hurrying into my window seat. Matt chuckled before following me into the row and getting comfortable in his own seat beside mine. “I take it you like it?” He asked sarcastically, though I still nodded my head like an enthusiastic toddler. “Well, get settled in baby. We’ve got a five and a half hour flight ahead of us.” He leaned over the cushioned arm rest between our seats and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I sighed at the reminder before investigating the small gift bundle beside my seat. There were a few snacks, some travel-sized toiletries, and a pillow and blanket; I couldn’t help but squeal from excitement. “Holy shit Matt! Look at this stuff!” I quickly unfolded the blanket and wrapped myself in it as he did the same. “I know, it’s cool right. And it doesn’t stop there, watch this.” Matt smirked before reaching under his chair, when suddenly his seat reclined all the way back and transformed into a bed.

“WHAT?” I exclaimed before searching under my own seat for the recline handle. I giggled as my chair fell back and I was suddenly horizontal. “Oh my god, I am in heaven.” I sighed blissfully, stretching my arms above my head in bliss. “And look,” Matt continued, reaching for the arm rest and pushing it back so that it became flush with our beds, “Now we just have one big bed to share.” He giggled before scooting closer to my side while simultaneously grabbing my waist and pulling me into him. I laughed and rolled over so that I could face him; propping myself up on my elbow and gazing down at him. “Thank you Matty.” I said before planting a gentle kiss on his eyelid. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/n,” He chuckled, “I just can’t wait for my parents to meet you.” My heart fluttered from his words, and I repositioned my body so that I could curl into his.

“I can’t wait to meet them, either. I mean, I’m nervous as fuck but I really do want to get to know the two people who created you three weirdos.” I closed my eyes, feeling my body relax as the plane began moving down the tarmac. Matt mindlessly rubbed my back as we laughed, just waiting for the unmistakable sensation of the plane taking off.

Once we were finally in the air, I rolled over to fetch my air pods from my backpack. “Let’s listen to some music, I can’t stand all this white noise in here.” I said, handing the left pod to Matt and keeping the right for myself. Once they were secured in both of our ears, I scrolled through my Spotify account to find mine and Matt’s shared playlist before hitting shuffle. I fell onto my back and closed my eyes as the music played in both of our ears; growing more and more comfortable as my eyes grew heavy and the sensation of sleep began to overtake me.

�� ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

I was awoken from my deep sleep by the sound of a baby wailing a few aisles behind me. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I woke with a startle before remembering that I was on a plane. Slightly disoriented, I checked the time on my phone to discover that we had been in the air for four hours. I was shocked that I was able to sleep that long on a flight, since usually in the economy seats I would struggle to even get 45 minutes of true rest. I looked to my right at Matt’s sleeping figure. He was lying on his stomach with his peaceful face turned in my direction — very clearly having as deep of a sleep as I was previously having. His dark eyelashes fluttered slightly every now and then, and due to the way his face pressed against the small pillow, his pink lips were squished into an exaggerated pout.

Admiring his undeniable beauty, I had to resist the urge to lean over and pepper him with kisses. Instead, I went on my phone and began scrolling through our music playlist. After queuing a few songs, I moved onto my camera roll to kill some time as I felt boredom begin to overtake me. I felt like the biggest loser ever as I scrolled through the countless photos I had taken of Matt and I over the past few months with a corny smile plastered to my face. We truly had spent nearly every single day together since that first night that we met, and I had been sure to capture as many memories on camera as I could.

I continued to scroll for a few moments before coming across a particular memory that caused me to audibly gasp. It was a video that Matt and I had made about a month before. Our first and only sex tape. Before playing the video, I snuck a glance at Matt to make sure he was still sleeping and turned the volume down to zero so that it wouldn’t play through the air pod that was still resting in his ear. Cautiously, I hit play on the video and watched from Matt’s angle as he pounded into me from behind. To be completely honest, I had totally forgotten that we had taken that video and hadn’t even watched it before, so I stared in awe as our bodies collided again and again. The only issue was that I so badly wanted to hear the audio as my curiosity notoriously got the better of me in situations such as this. I was curious to know what I really sounded like during sex, and knew that listening to the audio was one of the only ways that I could.

Suddenly, I had an idea that would not only allow me to listen but would also have the potential to wake Matt up. Looking at him once again with a smirk across my face, I started the video from the beginning; this time with the volume about halfway up. Instantly, my right ear was filled with the unmistakably erotic sounds of our sex; body parts smacking against one another, loud moans, and the occasional dirty phrase falling from one of our mouths.

With the brightness on my phone turned down low, I watched intently at our moving bodies on my screen. I could only pull my eyes away to take a quick glance at Matt, who was beginning to shift around slightly under the blanket. I watched him for a moment, noticing that his eyes were still closed and he appeared to still be sound asleep. Growing frustrated that he still wasn’t waking up, I turned the sound on my phone to maximum volume just as the recorded version of him and I were reaching our climaxes. The crude noises became more and more erratic as the volume increased, and suddenly Matt’s blue eyes shot open.

He scanned the area frantically, obviously disoriented and confused by the sounds swarming his ears. When his eyes finally met mine and he noticed the playful smile on my face, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Y/n, what the fuck are you watching?” He asked through a chuckle before leaning towards me to take a glance at my phone screen. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” He added once he caught a glimpse of the two of us in the video; falling onto his back and covering his eyes with his crossed arms.

I collapsed into a fit of laughter before innocently replying, “What?”, fluttering my eyelashes and softening my voice. He simply shook his head, but I could see his lips curling into a smile behind his protective arms. “Don’t get me started, baby. Get some rest.” Was his reply, and I grumbled internally. I was far from tired, not only because I had already slept for four hours, but because I had just worked myself up for the past few minutes by watching that video. Still, I reluctantly obliged by hitting shuffle on our playlist once again before finding a comfortable position to attempt to get a bit more sleep.

My eyes were closed, my breathing was steady, but my body was wide awake; so I felt the shift that came from Matt sitting up in the bed. I was laying on my side with my back facing him, but through the soft music playing in my ear I could hear the privacy curtain slide across its rod. My eyes stayed shut as I felt the warmth of his body pressing up against me. I pretended to not feel his hand gently gliding across the curves of my hips, or his hardening member nudging against my thigh. However, once his lips pressed against the sensitive spot on my neck, my body began to fail me in its pretend ignorance. He delicately sucked on my thin skin, and my pulse began to quicken. His cool breath tickled my neck and I shivered in anticipation. His hand slowly traveled from my hip down my stomach, before finally reaching under my waistband towards my core, and I released a shaky breath.

I felt his lips upturn into a smile against my neck at my clear response. “Oh, so you are awake.” He teased, moving his hand away from my heat and resting his chin in the crook of my neck. I opened my eyes to a squint and looked at him. “What are you doing?” I asked with a slight whine in my voice. He scoffed dramatically. “What, you think you could play a video like that and expect me not to get worked up?” I smiled shyly before responding. “I just wanted to wake you. I was bored.” He scooted himself even closer to me, so that now our bodies were pressed tight against each other. “Oh yeah?” He placed a kiss to my neck again, this time tugging lightly at the skin with his teeth. “And what did you want to do to try to counteract this boredom?” He whispered, and my breath hitched as he brought a hand under my shirt and began fondling my sensitive nipples.

I closed my eyes before turning my body so that I was now facing him. “Matt, we are on a plane right now.” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper by the end of my sentence. He smirked before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “That’s what the curtain is for, sweetheart.” My eyes shifted to the space behind him, where the curtain was shut and properly secured by a hook near his head. My focus was brought back to him as I felt his hands gently begin tugging down my sweatpants. “You just have to be quiet for me, okay?” I gulped nervously before nodding my head mindlessly, already growing distracted by the arousal beginning to form in my panties.

Matt pulled me closer to him before placing a soft kiss against my lips. His hand gently ran up and down my inner thigh, just barely grazing my heat with each stroke. He placed another kiss against my lips, this one longer and deeper than the first, and he put his right leg between my knees to prop them up and apart. Our mouths moved against each other in sync, and my hands began to travel through his hair, over his shoulders, and finally down to his stomach. I hissed when he finally cupped his hand over my heat, his thumb just barely resting on my clit. Even through the thin layer of fabric that was my panties, the contact was intense. “Mmm, baby, you’re already so wet for me.” He mumbled gruffly against my lips, causing me to squirm.

“Touch me Matty, please.” I begged softly, my eyes pleading as my core began to throb. He chuckled, our teeth clanking together gently, before attacking my neck with his mouth. “So needy, huh? You want these fingers?” He cooed, sliding two of his fingers — now hooked under my panties — up my slit to collect my juices. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my bottom lip as I nodded frantically. “Mhm.” Was all I managed to get out in response to his question. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He was taunting me, both with his words and with his fingers as he toyed with my outer folds. I squirmed again, shifting slightly so that I was more on my back so that I could widen my legs easier. “N-need your fingers baby.” I managed to groan out, doing my best to keep my voice low so that our actions could go unnoticed by everyone around us.

Now leaning over me slightly, he looked down at me with hooded eyelids and a matching smirk. “That’s my girl.” He replied before finally rubbing circles on my swollen clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I became engulfed in the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation. I opened my eyes to find his traveling across my face. He had clearly been watching me in my state of ecstasy, and his blown out pupils and parted wet lips were clear signs that he was liking what he was seeing. Suddenly, a sharp moan escaped my lips as he plunged two of his fingers into me, and he quickly planted a firm hand over my mouth to prevent any more noises as he curled his fingers in and out of me mercilessly. The sensation became almost too much once he connected the base of his palm to my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his other movements, and almost without thinking I began clawing at the waist band of his sweatpants; desperate to feel more of him.

I pulled his sweats and his boxers down in one swift movement, and immediately began toying with his rock hard cock. Looking up at him as he continued his movements, I brought my hand to my mouth and allowed my collected saliva to drip onto it before bringing it back to his member. I began milking the tip of his cock and immediately noticed a change of pace in his fingers on my cunt. I watched his face as his eyes fluttered shut momentarily and his ears began to grow red. “Fuck, Y/n.” He moaned softly, his words alone enough to drive me crazy. I continued to stroke him, feeling each and every vein along his sizeable shaft, as I felt the familiar tingling sensation of an orgasm fast approaching.

“I-I need more of you Matty. Give me your cock please.” I was really begging now. My legs were beginning to shake and I was close to losing all control, but I wanted to cum around him. I watched as Matt’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as his dick twitched in my hand, a clear sign that my words had an impact on him, too. “Turn on your side.” He commanded, and I immediately obliged. Once I was facing away from him, he wasted no time in lying down beside me — one of his arms wrapped across my chest and massaging my right tit — and sliding his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

We both couldn’t help but release small moans at the satisfying feeling that came from him bottoming out, but he gave me little time to adjust to his size before thrusting into me almost desperately. Using his grasp on my tit, he pushed my back against his chest so that my body was flush with his. “Jesus baby, you’re so tight.” He praised softly, his mouth pressed against my ear as his hips continued to snap against my ass. I couldn’t manage a reply, instead I brought my right hand up to grab onto the back of his neck. I fell into a deep trance from the feeling of my spongey walls stretching and moulding to his cock as if they were two matching puzzle pieces. He left sloppy open mouthed kisses all along my face, growing careless with his movements as the pressure in my lower half began to grow almost unbearable.

“You’re close, aren’t you sweetheart.” He breathed against my hair. I couldn’t do much more than nod my head. “It’s okay, let go. Just be a good girl and stay quiet for me okay?” He used his free hand to once again cover my mouth in anticipation of what might come just as my orgasm bubbled over. I did everything I could to stay silent, but as my orgasm tore through me a plethora of moans fell from my lips and into his gentle hand. My grip on the back of his neck tightened and my back arched away from his torso as I felt the unmistakable warm spurt of fluid stream from my cunt.

Just as I began coming down from my high, Matt released a few short grunts before halting his movements entirely. “Fuuuuck.” His profanity came out in a breathy sigh. His forehead fell to my shoulder, and I could feel his dick pulsating inside of me as he painted my walls with his cum. After a moment, I felt his body relax behind me and he collapsed onto his pillow. For a little while, the only sounds coming from our little corner of the plane was the sound of our ragged breathing as we attempted to regain our composure.

“Well,” Matt eventually began, sitting up and lifting the blanket, exposing the wet spot in the bed that my squirt created, “How are we gonna explain this one?” I took a moment to look at it before sliding my sweats back on. “Easy, we just tell them that you got a little scared of the turbulence and pissed yourself.” He rolled his eyes as he put his pants back on as well, and I laughed. “You’re something else kid.”

Just then, a woman’s voice came from behind the closed curtain. Matt looked at me quickly to ensure that I was fully clothed before opening the curtain and coming face to face with an older flight attendant. “Hi there.” She said, her voice cheerful and her face plastered with a fake smile. “We’re going to be making our landing in Boston in about thirty minutes, please return to an upright position as soon as you can.” Matt nodded his head and gave her a quick smile before she promptly moved down to the next row of flyers. As soon as she was out of earshot, he gave me a cheeky side eye and we both immediately broke into fits of laughter.

“We timed that well.” He said through his laughter and I covered my face with my hands. “I can’t believe we just did that.” I replied, shaking my head as I came to the realization that I had just fucked my boyfriend on a commercial flight. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. “We’re in the mile high club now, baby.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now let’s get our seats back up. Only thirty minutes until you meet my parents!”

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader

1K notes · View notes

aethersea · 4 months

Text

I've always wanted to learn bookbinding, ever since I was a wee little nerd, but there are a lot of things I've always wanted to learn, and this one has both a daunting upfront materials cost and a daunting upfront research cost. however, my sister is a jewel among siblings and gave me for christmas last year a handy dandy bookbinding manual, a block of good paper, and a little bag of tools.

but I still didn't have a suitable workspace, nor any of the many important tools and materials that she didn't include in her gift. so I just read the manual and pined. until maybe a month ago I got fed up with pining, flattened a cardboard box for a cutting mat, and went to town.

and I'm real proud of myself, so here's me rambling, plus photos!

I went to the thrift store and got glue + some fabric to bind the cover, went to Michaels for a paintbrush (and later went back for a metal ruler lmao it's amazing how useful it is to have a straightedge for cutting the paper), and...could not find material for the cover boards. so I went home and pined some more. but the urges were too strong, so after a couple hours of moping I got a stack of printer paper at the grocery store (I could not bring myself to use the good paper for my first, inevitably weak attempts, I just couldn't do it) and started making a little booklet. which was a great idea, it turned out, since it makes for good practice with cutting the paper, measuring things, punching holes in the signatures, etc.

I have a big box of greeting cards from Michaels, which I used for the covers. it didn't feel like I was making a Real Book, so I got some colored paper from the stationery store and used that for end papers.

so fancy~

galvanized by this success, I ordered a stack of chipboard online to use for cover boards; and once I was confident that I could cut paper without making it look too stupid (getting that straightedge ruler sure helped lol), I made signatures out of the good paper, left them under some heavy books overnight since I don't have a book press, and then punched holes in them! (huzzah for this nice video on getting the holes right)

my sister's gift included good linen thread. it's unwaxed, but after some poking around on r/bookbinding it looks like that just means I'll have to be more careful to avoid tangles and keep good tension. I am fine with this. I can be extra attentive. (I considered just running it over a beeswax candle, but one commenter said if your wax has paraffin in it, it could melt in a hot car, ruining the spine. I can't guarantee my candle is 100% beeswax, I didn't make it, so maybe we just move on.)

I don't have good linen fabric to use for the tapes, but the important part there is that the fabric be thin, sturdy, and not stretchy. the probably-cotton I got from the thrift store fits the bill, so it'll do!

this is a french link stitch, which I got from this exceedingly good tutorial. apparently it's strong enough on its own that for a book of this size, I don't actually need tapes, but I'd already cut the things so eh here we are. and tapes plus french link will make it a stronger binding still (according to a friendly redditor on r/bookbinding), so we carry on.

specifically we carry on to the gluing step. now as I mentioned, I do not have a book press, and you....kinda need one for this step. you need to hold the book block in place with the signatures facing upwards, pressed together hard enough that the glue won't run down between them and stick the pages together (though you do want the glue to get between them just a little, just for like a 16th of an inch). you at least need some clamps and a couple boards to sandwich the book block with.

but you know what? I'm not a professional, this is my first ever book, if it's a little bit off it'll be fine. so we grab all the heaviest books off the bookshelf and improvise.

it's fine! I'm sure it's fine! and just in case it's not, I've tucked a bit of cardboard underneath to catch any glue that drips down so it won't land on the floor. see? I'm prepared! I'm acing this.

and actually, it really was fine. I used clear elmer's glue, applied with a flat paintbrush from the art supplies aisle at Michael's, and frankly I liked the way the flat paintbrush let me slip glue in between the signatures. I did poke around on a couple bookbinding sites to see what kind of glue I should use, and the gist is that although there are better options than this, elmer's glue is perfectly serviceable, and the main downside is it's not archival grade. but I don't need my first bookbinding attempts to last 200 years, that's fine.

the next step is to add the mull. mull is a specific type of fabric – extremely loose-weave linen – and the idea is to paste it down over the spine to essentially hold the tapes and signatures all in place in relation to each other.

but I don't have mull! so I'm using more of the thrift store probably-cotton, because it's thin enough and not really stretchy at all. I'm sure this will be fine too. I painted a layer of glue onto the spine, then left it to dry a bit while I measured and cut the fabric, then painted a generous stripe of glue down the center, where it'll affix onto the spine. then I added a bit more glue to the spine, just to be sure, and pressed the mull into place, rubbing it thoroughly to make sure it's firmly affixed to every signature, with no creases in the fabric or air bubbles beneath it.

honestly I might have overdone it on the glue. I've never done this before, I don't know! I think it's okay, though – I tried not to ever let it become a thick layer, just a slight coating, since the danger of too much glue is that it might crack once dry and weaken the spine.

and now we leave it in the press overnight to dry, and pick up the next step in the morning!

#finx rambles #bookbinding #finx makes stuff #technically this is the second hardcover book I've made #but it's the first I'm making using Approved Techniques™#instead of watching a handful of half-relevant youtube videos and making up the rest #which was fun!#but did mean that once I was done I didn't know where to go from there #and at the time I couldn't find better resources #(I really wanted better youtube videos! just didn't know how to find them idk)#(it was 2020 I was unwell. as I'm sure we all understand)#but now I have an abundance of good sources #and I'm determined

558 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 4 months

Text

Billion Dollar Baby - Grid x Billionare! Reader x Lewis Hamilton (Rom) Part 1

Plot: Girlie loves Formula One, but she also loved Chaos and Drama so she offers the FIA/ the F1 Teams 300 million to do a race … for her under her rules!

As a billionaire with a net worth of over 90 billion pounds to your name and your name alone and having multiple stable corporations and investments in loads of different sectors and having donated overly generous amounts to charity, you couldn't help but start to find more interesting ways to invest your money.

You had 7 homes, all around the world completely paid off with about double the amount of cars, whether they were super cars, vintage cars or personalized cars. A private jet, 3 vacation homes and an island.

You lived a lavish life but you worked extremely hard for it, there wasn't really a moment you weren't working.

But you had your hobbies, the theatre (specifically WestEnd), travelling (when you had time away from work) you'd been really getting into sport.

Particularly F1 was an interest of yours. You'd put forward money into McLaren and given them upgrades from your various companies both tech wise and team wear wise.

But you were so intrigued with the sport and the difference from F2.

In F2, the cars were pretty much all the same and it was fully on driver capability. Whereas in F1 you could be a cracking driver but depending on the team you were in you were in a shit box car.

And that's why you were now currently stood in the paddock at Silverstone.

You'd proposed ... to the FIA a race, where you'd pay for driver - team switches that you could choose and run it as a charity event so any tickets sold went to charities chosen by the drivers.

And everyone loved it. I mean why wouldn't they. It wasn't like the teams were loosing out on money because you were paying them to build another car and for the drivers it was just a bit of fun to experience another car.

So here you were, in front of 20 drivers, 10 team principles, some CEO's of the teams, some FIA representatives and some media personal.

"Hello everyone!" you smile awkwardly. Even though you'd done presentations in front of many many people this felt really daunting to you.

A chorus of mumbles and hello's back to you occurred before you stand there awkwardly. Someone was supposed to introduce you, that's what you were told when you first got here but no-one was attempting to come up on stage to help you so you just laugh.

"So apparently no one is coming up to introduce me... so erm if you don't know who i am I'm Y/N Y/L/N and I've proposed money to each of your teams and the FIA to create a charity race where I switch drivers into different cars... Formula 1 really intrigues me to see how you all are naturally talented drivers and that the car really does matter... and i think it will be really interesting for the fans. It's a great opportunity for the teams and drivers to make special merch and special helmets and I just think as drivers it will be a really great experience for all of you!" you grin and there was mumbles questions thrown at you till you PR manager came up next to you to calm everyone down.

"One at a time please!" he says in his gruff masculine voice.

"Are you choosing which teams we go to?" Lando asks first, and you nodded.

"Are teams making a different car? Or?" he asks and you shake you head.

"Teams will rebuild the exact car that they have now. It will just be other drivers inside the car. Do you guys want to hear where you'll be?" you ask and a chorus of agreement flows through the room.

"Okay, so first up our two Red Bull Drivers. Current Champions of both Constructor and Drivers. Max Verstappen, you will be going to Williams. And Sergio Perez you will be going to Haas!" you start and gasps surround.

"So we aren't staying with our current team mate?" Lewis asks looking over to George.

"Okay, as for the current Ferrari Drivers, Charles you will be going to McLaren and Carlos after your announcement of joining Nico in Sauber for 2025 i thought it would be fun to give you a ... test run so you are going to Sauber!" you cheer and they both nod.

"Okay then for my McLaren boys I got Oscar to Ferrari and Lando to ... Red Bull!" you grin and Lando looks down with a laugh and shake of his head. Being a McLaren sponsor meant you spent a lot of time around the paddock with the pair of them.

"Next our Mercedes men, Lewis will be joining Max in Williams" you smirk making Lewis shake his head, you'd always liked teasing Lewis having had a relationship at one point and ending on good terms due to work stresses and struggles.

"And George will be in Aston Martin!" you smile and he nods.

"As for Aston Martin, Fernando you'll be driving alongside Carlos as a Spanish Duo in Sauber and Lance well your dad offered me money to put you in Red Bull but thought that wasn't the spirt of the charity event so Alpine for you!" you grin and you can tell some of the drivers, including Lance are trying not to laugh.

"Visa Cash App Racing Bulls, fuck me that's a mouthful erm Dani Ric you my friend are going to ... Aston Martin nice one and my favrioute driver ... sorry Lando and Oscar but he's literally my son ... Yuki my love you'll be in Red Bull with Lando!" you smile and he fits the air happily before nodding at you in thanks.

"Nico, Kevin Haas hasn't actually been all that bad for you guys this year. You've had great drivers however ... Kevin to Mercedes and Nico to RB!" you smile.

"Williams duo. You guys will be moving up. Logan i think you'll really really suit Ferrari red and Alex you better like Papaya coz you'll be joining Charles in McLaren!" you smile and Logan's face lights up being in a top team. This was really his opportunity to prove himself and that he was a great driver.

"Alpine ... not been an easy season for you guys unfortunately ... Pierre you'll be joining Mercedes and Esteban you'll drive for Haas"

"And finally our Stake Sauber whatever your team name is called will be moving ... Zhou to Alpine and Valtteri to Racing Bulls!"

"I hope this interests you all and you are all excited for the race in two months!" you say and you stay behind talking to some of the drivers until one is left.

"Hey baby" you smirk at Lewis as he leans against the door frame.

"I don't think I'll ever get over you calling me baby" he smiles softly and you smile back.

"Of course you wont ... baby" you grin.

"I'm excited for this race but I can't believe you .. put me in a Williams!" he exclaims and you just laugh before flattening out the lapels of his blazer before looking up at him.

"Cant make it easy for you, I wanna see you fight. You've lost your spark Lew!" you sigh looking over him.

Yours and Lewis relationship came to and end in 2021, just after he'd lost the championship. Said he needed to be more focused on his career. Baring in mind you'd been dating for 5 years before that.

"I-I know, it's not been the same since ..." he trails off and you nod.

"Since Max won... I know!" he smile at him, rubbing his shoulder, but after hearing you he takes a step back.

"No, since we ended things!" he sighs and you look over him in confusion.

"Lew..." you start and he shakes his head.

"I know it was mutual, but you were it for me. You ... you still are Y/N. I want you back and I know you aren't ready right now but you are the one thing i will and always will continue to fight for, fuck another championship ... fuck even another race win. I want you back though and I promise you i'll prove it!" he says looking over you, tears filling in your eyes as he pulls you into his chest, hugging you while stroking your hair.

"Ohhhh Lewis, what are you doing to me..." you laugh, because if you don't you'll cry.

"I'll see you in two months Lew!" you smile and walk out the door. He looks a little gutted your leaving but you need him to prove that he'll try.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris imagine #charles lecrelc x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh44 imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 #lh44 smut

596 notes · View notes

fawnpires · 2 years

Text

EVERY MAN GETS HIS WISH — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: under the enemy's eye, you're required to accompany the task force's lieutenant but an unfortunate situation of enemy attack occurs; falling victim to both things, your superior and some hidden feelings.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: sex pollen, non-consensual drug use, one-bed-trope, inappropriate relationship with a superior, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, age gap, manhandling, pet-names, size difference, dirty talk, grinding, mild degradation, praise kink, porn with plot, loss of virginity, innocence kink.

He wasn't a saint, nor was he heroic man to be looked up to; which was baffling considering his status of customary deeds. Brave, noble, bold — all of those things checked off to be deemed as heroic, as simple as that.

Rather than a man of military, he was more of a vigilante — acting on his own accord, directing himself and the men he worked along with the mind of personal dominance. He knew he didn't fit the stereotype of a soldier; obscene mindset, crude jokes cracked, stiff posture that made him stand stall and all intimidating, and a exterior skull of a clothed balaclava. As daunting as the man was, he was just like peers — quite ill-mannered off the field, absorbed too much in himself.

But he had learnt to contain a majority of that. Solitude was more ideal than ill-mannered, and he preferred that. Often covered up with tracks of blood and brutality, his humanlike isolation made up the whole of him; swallowed him up whole. He didn't know why he enlisted for the military, or why he hadn't quit so many years into the position. Perhaps for the adrenaline rush, or to endure the experiences of war, but the utmost possibility was to make something out of the miserable man he was — sculpt a more successful alternative.

In some way, that had worked out, made him whatever a hero was supposed to be. If that had made him a hero, then be it, if it didn't, then who was he to care? It's not like he cared for his general image, what others thought of who he was; only a man of great cruelty, inhumane and cold-blooded.

A lot of that shifted with you. One of the few women recruited, reserved and utterly meek when interacting one-on-one. You're instantly caught in the range of his observations, curiosity and skepticism as the two perplexing sensations that send him over the edge. Though he's afraid, and not in a tensed sense, it's more based on his feelings; those feelings that he thought would be triggered off in him, until he has you in his sights. That's why he scarcely ever partnered up with you on missions, putting some separation there to rid of those perplex feelings compressed to himself.

Unbeknownst to both you and him, that changes by a great deal. With Price's organization of the next mission, only in need of two personnel, it's down to the coincidence of him being paired up alongside you. The one thing that he was oh-so-successfully doing so well for the couple months you've resided in the task force, but shattered to bits when approaching this unfortunate expedition — it's pressuring, wearing his nerves out — tense. (As if you weren't as equally on edge about being collaborating with your intimidating, enormous superior.)

You're close to him, practically almost rubbing arms together. The overhead sky is dull of sun and some additional clouds, reflecting off the shade of his masked face and the tactical gear he displays. Forwards on, there's nothing but fields of fading grass and a waning path. The intercoms attached to both your uniforms are radio silence; no commands, no Price on the other end except from a few minutes ago when given the straight order to push on until Ghost gives direct instruction there.

Every so often you feel his eyes on you, causing you to adjust your head in his direction only to see him facing the path in front of him; yet sometimes you catch him side-eyeing you through the holes of his mask. Anxiousness boils in the pit of your stomach with each passing second — with his close physical contact, aware of him catching tiny glimpses of you — it causes you to distance yourself from him without your own awareness.

"Careful, kid," he said, his rasped voice the only sound you've heard in the rounds of minutes, "Stay close, don't want you wandering off now."

You blink a few times in a daze at the name, sliding yourself right back next to him, uneasiness tainting the void that was slotted right between you and him. Your hold on your firearm loosens, clutching it closer to your chest, the fingers of your left hand tightening around frontier piece. The sole use of his pet name intact for you leaving you flustered and weak in the limbs.

A sigh blows past your lips. "How much further?" you ask, "Been minutes, hours."

"Almost there, right through this path." he replies swiftly, crouching before gesturing to the right, "Cut here."

He takes lead, in front, and you linger close behind. The trail is cut off, there's more open field and sky where the sky darkens; shadows drawn on the ground, sun merely in sights and lowering beyond the horizon line. Arising in the distance, a structure stands its ground; a warehouse, seemingly deserted, dim light fixtures hung side-by-side with a half opened roll-up sheet door.

In a crouched position, he kneels in the fields of dried grass, signaling for you to do the same — which you oblige with. The slinging strap of your gun digs through your tactical wear, felt into your skin, marking the flesh with the outline of it. Around the airspace is tight and claustrophobic, your chest heavy with the beat of your palpitating, head weighed with a throb and some exhilaration.

"Visual on the hideout," he presses his intercom open to Price, gloved thumb to the button and his head tilted.

Price is heard clicking his own intercom through. "All yours, Ghost, your command from there."

Ghost pauses in his movements for a second then aligns his head back in position on his neck, closing off his intercom as it goes back to the original state of radio silence. He revolves his entire body in your direction, even crouched he's still so much towering and intimidating, eyes a shade of sepia surrounded with black war-paint dying right into your bare ones. "Stay close by me, then separate once inside, then you stay on watch while I locate, understood?"

It's a different request, more distant than what you were usually accustomed to, but in this position; there was really no arguing back on this, or better yet declining.

"Affirmative." you reply, getting off the ground and maintaining a standing position, still bent on your knees to avoid possible detection. He does the same, taking lead again and scurrying out of the grass into the open expanse of the warehouse's front, taking careful measures as he leans to grab a hold of the half-opened roll-up door's handle and widening the entrance so that's their enough space to set foot in. You're sweating, pumped of adrenaline as the whole situation sends yourself into a condition of delirium and kicked of a strange thrill — rifle no longer clutched to your chest, but in a prepared-aiming stance.

A scent, between a bitterness and saccharine, stings your nose. The inside of the building reeks of it, your face hit with a handful of it, causing you to pull up the cloth of your uniform and hold it over your nose.

(Luckily for him, he sported that damned mask of a skull all the time. The one time that you've fully understood to why he would need it, even coming across a situation like this.)

Fluorescent lights in tubes buzz overhead, flickering in flashes across each of your faces, background of quietude besides the shuffles of Ghost moving in his gear and the humming of the lights. He raises his arm to gesture the previous order given, you stay put up against a wall while he proceeds further and observes the stairs, the upper level with a room; unsuspected of the flat, low contour of a light that casts through the glass panes of the space. You watch across your shoulder, moving up to the bottom of the case of stairs, detecting each of his calculated steps, prepared to act on direction.

He reaches the top platform and eyes the door — though, before he has the chance to elbow the door wide open, his suspicions of there being lifeforms present are confirmed — the solid matter of the door bursts open without warning and a clink of an object hits the ground where he stood.

Adapting the consciousness to back away from it was far too late to act on now, a blow of the now-identified smoke grenade pollutes the atmosphere around, white and clouds around more than you had expected it to. Despite having your uniform stuffed to your nose, the scent is brought back to you — that bitter, sweet-smelling one — and it throws you into an abrupt coughing fit. Some of it breaches to your eyes, leaving a whole of you to be incompetent to retaliate against the enemy; hell, you couldn't even fend it off.

There's a grit of your teeth while slump back against the stairs. You lay against your rifle that had been abandoned from the clutch of your hands, your chest abnormally heavier; as if you were lungs were filled with a burdensome matter. Through the veil of your fogged vision and the diminishing sheet of smoke, the lieutenant held more strength than you, holding himself up against the wall of the room and held the handle of his knife up into one of the perpetrators.

His strength in the moment was impressive, nearing admirable, but it wasn't enough to overturn the situation with more than one perpetrator present. About two circle him while another three take notice of your debilitated figure haunted with the beginning side effects seeping into the fissures of your body, your head.

The last few recollections were of slow footsteps approaching your comatose-like body, your breaths heavier and more echoed against the shells of your ear. That sensation in your chest sourced from the smoke was growing into more crucial, dangerous areas; the smoke's aroma intense and all that you could really smell. They're crouched and talk over your body through muffled hoods, gas-masks.

It's difficult to make out what they're saying, (In this state everything was difficult, from vision to solely breathing.) A palm rests at your forehead, frigid to the touch before it burns down to a more scorching feeling once left more on contact to your skin.

You use your last bit of brawn to grasp at an attempt to get away downwards but there's an additional grab to your legs from below. A grunt flows from your throat in a strained manner, the ramifications of the unknown dust outdoing your own control.

A palm to your forehead, acidity stench, and the rear of a shotgun to strike you to a vacant space of unconscious void.

Against your skin, there's heavy breathing, and motions of flexing arms under your lifted thighs. You find your hands balled in fists at the fabric of his tactical jacket, his jacket, Ghost. To your surprise, he had proved your accusations of his strength giving out back at the warehouse wrong — overthrowing the opponents and beating them to pulps like his usual violent self, his bloodthirsty persona which slaughters the targets he chooses. Undeniably, he was rabid. No morals, no mercy for his rivals like the truculent brute he was.

His hand supports your back, the other to your legs which had explained the flexes that continue under you. He stumbles over to a tree which provides a temporary shelter as he slants at the bark.

He isn't vulnerable, he almost never was. It was either a violent, bellicose identity or one of great endurance. Ghost was an inexplicable man. On the battlefield, he's nothing more than a weapon — a masculine personification of warfare that taunts and douses his victim in a bloodbath of gore. (Who knew if he had developed some sick satisfaction from it, years of countless executions bound to his hands.)

But now he an absolute contrasting mortal to that, possessing you in his big arms right to his chest. You almost feel safe, sort-of sheltered more than you've ever felt in your entire presence of being restricted to the Earth's grounds. You take notice of how he checks over his shoulder then sloping his head down to your laid physique. His hand moves to cradle the back of your head, lifting you slightly.

"Come on, c'mon," he whispers and buries his fingers deeper in your hair, "Stay with me, kid."

In response, your half-lidded eyes widen up a little more, hands ghosting over his forearm and leaving your fingers to brush over the sleeve. You think you hear a sound of relief, but it was complicated to say with his smothering mask dying down a mass of his words.

The collected scenery around had been ingested fully with the effects of dusk, nearing complicated to make out where you the both of you resided for the time being. All you could comprehend was that he accomplished to elude from the main origin of the danger, and had hid out nearby in this perspective of trees.

"How'd... how'd you get get away?" you ask, sitting up with his supportive hand still at your back.

"That's what years of military training does to you," he replied, panting, "Reinforced stamina, mask helped drag out some of the grenade too."

You blink slowly, bringing your middle and index finger to your face which gathers some of that bitter residue. "What is this shit, anyways?"

"Not sure, has to be some conjured batch of contraband. Never been out to be transported, personal use — that's what I say."

"Some strong stuff." you mutter.

His strength which is used to hold you up heightens when he stands from his crouched position, a grunt choked in his throat. You link your arms around his neck for more support, doe-like eyes staring right into the pit of skull and cloth.

He doesn't mind, you think.

"Saw a safe-house up there, we'll spend the night there." he states.

"What about the rest of the operation?"

"I'll get in touch with Price," he said, "Possible case scenario is the whole thing being postponed."

You can only bring yourself to nod your head; at the same time, those secondary effects of the substance flowing back into yourself, stronger. Ghost starts back up forward to where the safe-house was situated, and his motions produce perceptions of vertigo. A whimper is hushed from behind your closed lips, head pressed to his shoulder and submerging into his jacket. His own scent gives distraction from the sustained bitterness and swirling sweetness that made your head pulsate in equivalent palpitations to your rapid heartbeat.

Your limbs are brought to weakness, frail and shaky against the perimeters of your pants. Sweat sticks to you — your forehead, your skin, your clothes. The strap of your bra feels more mauled into your flesh, branding into your sultry skin. There's an unanticipated rush of heat that throbs out from between your thighs, another whimper muted from your secured lips. Right in the moment, like a natural instinct, you could't help but trail your eyes over to Ghost.

How his biceps flexed and bent underneath you, his distinctive scent stalling at your nose of gunpowder and pine. It was intoxicating, holding you in a trance complete of him; all your focus on your lieutenant. You were known to hold an admiration for him ever since recruitment, his particular set of skills and proficient demeanor that was worthy of your commendation. But now it had shrunk into nothing but merely a hidden, perverted desire that had been brought out in the faults of the anesthetizing matter. Pressing your head deeper into the cloth of his jacket, you force your legs to squeeze together — an aim to rid of the shameful sensations that were coming down at you at the same.

As you doubted it was never going to transpire, Ghost had successfully brought the two of you into the safe-house. No longer in use, abandoned and dead, the short-term sanctuary reserved for you and him only. One story, decently-sized, and ideal for hiding out from potential nearby threats.

You're supported up in his arms for an interval while he inspects the building until reaching the upstairs, in the single bedroom which had been the only one throughout the investigation. He leans downwards to allow you to stable yourself on two unsteady legs from his hold. You stagger over to the solitary mattress and sit on the edge of it, two hands resting on the edge, fingers compressing into the foam. By now, the effects the substance took on your body had evolved into a level of unbearable.

Sweat drapes over your body in a fitted sheet, that vertigo subsiding into a lower degree but adjoining to the intense pulsing of your cunt that you've managed to handle for a while now. You slap a palm to your forehead, down your face, examining the extreme sweat that stains the skin there. Ghost sits at the foot of the bed, close to you, and begins to strip of his vest and his jacket.

"Get some rest, you'll need it in the morning." he advises towards you, proceeding to strip of the rest of his heavy gear.

"Was there not another bedroom?" you ask.

"Just this one," he said, "Why? You ashamed of sleeping with a superior or somethin'?"

Sleeping. To your current perverted head, you take it a more immoral way, heat rushing to your face at the thought.

"No, no, I just... thought you needed more privacy. Wanted to have some alone time, you know?"

He glances to you. "If you're uncomfortable, I can just sleep on the floor, kid — nothin' personal."

"It's fine, Ghost, seriously." you said.

His stare drifts on you for a little while longer before shifting away, bending his upper half into the pocket of his tactical jacket for a lighter version of his balaclava; one that wasn't supported with the hard shell of a skull at the front, but printed with a the design of the skull instead. His eyes were more visible this way, tar-like paint on pale skin around the browned irises. You shyly strip of your own vest and jacket, leaving you in a black tank top and tactical pants. The only light that had really illuminated the room was the tranquilizing beam of the moonlight through the pane of the window, white and glowy.

You slump fully onto the bed and sink into the soften material of a pillow. Your resting position distributes some heaven from the tormenting sensitivity that throbs like hell through your pants. The space on the mattress from behind you droops with his weight, a breathy sigh leaving his lips as he settles close to you; the closest you've ever been with him, almost intimate.

After a slight period of time, he's knocked out in a slumber — but you're left awake, a hand now between your legs as the pulsing is at its height; panties drenched and your heartbeat thumping out of the cage of your chest. You gaze over your shoulder at him where he lays closer facing you, his eyes visibly slit shut with the gleam of the moonlight. He adjusts himself and moves in closer to you in his sleep, towering figure nearly pressed up at you. The adjustment leaves you flustered, shock.

Without hesitations, you remove your hand that nestled from the space of your thighs and slipped through the waistband of your pants; stripping of your pants, gliding into your panties and fingertips feeling the soaked fabric of it before trailing further, rubbing slightly against your cunt. Your back arches and you muffle a whine into your pillow, heartbeat sounding at your ears in impossible volumes. Shame was no longer present, libido taking authority over your body and leading you to do such perverted things while thinking of your superior — who was sleeping away right next to you.

In this sort of mindset you can barely grab control of yourself anymore and find yourself stumbling backwards into Ghost, your free hand over your mouth as you feel the area of his crotch press up against the curve of your ass. One of your eyes twitch, hand in your panties rubbing at your puffy lips while your hips begin circular motions at his clothed crotch. The hand at your mouth fails to stay together, fingers parting from each other and granting the noises from your mouth to spill out. His arm then wraps at your waist, unconscious or not, seemingly pulling you closer to him; a bulge in his pants felt at your panties.

"Lieutenant..." you whisper breathily, looking back at him only to see his eyes were no longer shut — but half-lidded and open.

His arm at your waist travels to your hips, trapping you in the enclosure of his hands while he pushes you down further onto his bulge; an audible whine leaving your mouth with additional pants.

"Look at you," he groans with a rasp in his tone, "Gettin' off on her superior like the needy whore she is."

"M' sorry, Ghost, fuck, needed you so bad..." you whine out as his hips grind against your ass harsher, almost in similarity to thrusting, yourself drunk on him and his cock.

"Yeah, love?" he questions, "Say it, how long have you've been like this for me? How many times have you touched that pretty little cunt of yours to the thought of me every night?"

Your eyes are shot vast, saliva pooled in your closed mouth and your panties moist — slick painting the inner sections of your thighs. Words struggle shape into coherent sentences through your mindless babbles and the disturbance of his erection prodding right at your clothed cunt, but you manage. "Ever since I joined the task force," you say through a half-whine, "Since I've first seen you."

A couple of months was your first appearance on working for the task force. Decently skilled and a couple of rank higher than your first impression of a rookie, barely given any training. That's how long you've yearned for him — how many times you've laid sole right at midnight, in your room of the barracks, a hand down your panties while breaths of weight exhale with personal noises of lust. You project his hand instead of yours in the fabric, veins and a bigger expanse of flesh that stretches your tight cunt out with lengthy fingers.

Now those momentary projections had manifested itself into the real life, the reality where your older superior had himself pressed up against you; hungering after you as much as you did for him.

He has his face in the crook of your neck. "Fucked my fist thinkin' of you," you said, "You and your heavenly body distractin' me on missions... drives me insane."

"Ghost, please." you whimpered.

"Tell me what you need, sweet thing, c'mon." he cooes against your neck, the arms around your waist locking you right to the area of his crotch when all you could do is whine and push yourself down for more of the relief. Your body burns and fits of sweat, the temples of your forehead pounding.

"Need you to fuck me," you pant, "Need you inside so bad."

Ghost places a masked kiss at your jaw at the confession and in an instant movement; you're underneath him, a caging shadow scarcely visible by the traces of moonlight through the glass panes. The loss of friction he once gave from behind you was no longer there, leaving you to press your thighs together once again in hopes to rekindle some of the loss. His palms are flat at each side of your head, the bulging muscles of his black shirt outlining through the material — and the thing you've longed for the most, the bulge that lines and becomes trapped in his fabric confines.

He uses his right arm and his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties, ragging the drenched item down past your knees and left to be discarded on the mattress. His eyes preserve in a mature desire; bleary and focused on the exposed region of wet flesh. You bite the skin of your bottom lip, sheepish to never having another person being so up-close to an area that was so confidential to you throughout a large portion of your life. Two of his fingers slide up your puffy lips, soaked of your collected arousal while he elicits a low gasp from you.

"Fuck, angel, never seen someone so wet all for me." he said.

You had wondered if you should tell him now — after you were the first one to make such a bold move on him, you had to confess the private matter of never having intercourse; the only closest sexual encounter you've had was with yourself. (Those nights in the barracks with your single hand.)

"Ghost, wait—" you stutter out, a palm spread-out at his chest in a way to interrupt him of his doings.

"Somethin' wrong?"

You breathe, your throat gone dry. "I- I haven't done this before." you admit.

"You're a virgin, honey, is that it?" he asked with his accent swarmed of concern, "Never had a man touch you like this?"

"No," you said, "I want you to be my first time..." the admission was brief to a point, sure, but it was what you were so desperate in need of. You reserved this occasion just for him, and it had finally gave life to itself.

"Oh, sweet girl," he caresses your face with both hands, large palms squishing your cheeks and rubbing soothing motions into the skin, "Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes, please," you whisper, "God, I've waited and waited, only for you to be the first. Nobody else."

With that, his hands drag themselves down your face, your chest and stomach, and aligning at your thighs. He leans himself down onto the mattress, pinning his body onto the cushioned material. Your legs rest at each of his shoulders and his fingers create a restraint; powerless to thrashing or releasing from his hold. His thumb and index finger momentarily fix up the bottom of his balaclava to the brink of his nose, moving back to the flesh of your thigh. You squirm a little from the long, dragged-out desperation that spread through your body like a disease — a plague of lust solely meant for your lieutenant.

At long last his head descends to that throbbing territory right between your parted thighs, all bathed in your bloomed arousal and swollen clit. You feel his tongue kiss over your skin before running one long stripe up your cunt, lips fully puckering over you. To this new, overwhelming ease —out of the extended period of time with the substance's aches— you throw your head back to the headboard, a breathy gasp leaving you throat each time his tongue comes to work on your cunt. His nose adds to the ecstasy that he sends you right into, nuzzling and prodding right at your clit when his mouth works along your slit.

You stifle a moan, but ultimately fails when his tongue fucks itself right into your cunt, nearly felt at your walls. Whines echo off the boundaries of the room, the double simulation causing your eyes to flutter and your walls to clench around his tongue. Your thighs squeeze at his head while trembling, leaving your fingers to claw at the sheets, each and every assembly of your exclusive noises the nearest experience he would ever capture to hearing heaven — an angel, his very own angel.

"Fuckin' heaven right between your thighs, princess," he praised, running his tongue at the spots he was quick to learn that were sensitive to you, "Needy thing, you are."

"Y- Yes, yes... fuck." you whine.

"M' going to ruin you, bunny," he said amid his pleasuring, "Be the first man to ruin you, and this sweet pussy of yours."

Your thighs tremble, thrown-back head releasing noises of pants and disgraceful moans. His tongue works more diligently now, in the habit of working at your cunt. The ministrations are more faster and insistent. "Oh, Ghost..." you whimpered, bucking your hips onto his face and essentially riding his entire facial structure. He lifts his irises to your fucked-out face, staring in admiration, a raw visual of beauty — open-mouth, tilted head, sheet of sweat over skin, and all because of his own doing.

Rather than alternating between lapping at the exterior of your cunt and pushing his tongue right into you, he makes his mind up of only plunging his tongue in-and-out of you. The more rabid motions of his tongue driving up into you is a whole new degree of euphoria, a knot in your abdomen tying itself at the muscle fucking at your delicate walls. But it's not soon when that knot is unbinding itself, your body writhing under him as your hips roll and ripples of pleasure drive out from the undoing knot.

When Ghost arises from his spot between your now-fully soaked thighs, his mouth and nose are saturated with the liquids of your orgasm; the first orgasm you've had provoked by another person. You spasm, at some state of relief — but not enough to fully satisfy the explicit emotions that fomented right to him. Heavy breaths leave your mouth and his, trembling fingers of yours coming to pull off your tank-top and bra; fully nude and stripped beneath him now. You take notice of his eyes widening for a brief second behind the warpaint — astonished, or whatever he had going on at that unpredictable mind of his.

"Such a doll, baby." he said, inclining down to press a kiss to your lips, straightening his stance above you — towering you. He strips of his own shirt, a broad chest of muscles and pale skin, then lingering a hand down to his tactical pants where he shrugs the cloth down to his ankles; thoroughly peeling away from any fabric, except for his boxers with that prominent bulge at the forefront.

You patiently look up at him through your lashes while he slowly tugs at the waistband of the remaining article of clothing, a sensation at your gut anxious for the release of it. He wastes no time pulling the boxers down, cock smacking at his lower abs. Undeniably, he was as large as you've fantasized him to be — but with more length added, more veins that adorned him and a blunt head that oozed of pre-cum. Your breath hitched at the sight, a slow blink of your eyes while he clamped a fist over himself.

He pumped himself a few times in the fist, never once leaving the perspective of your near-goddess body all spread out for him. The stare in his eyes were darker, more obscured with shadows and a deep, perverted passion that you once obtained; only for it to die down at his domination on you, reduced to your usual timidity. Observing his cock in his fist, you bite your lip, that throbbing sense at your cunt returning in a more intense wave.

In a more bent position over your anatomy, you feel the head of his cock prod right at your entrance and you gasped when it starts in circular movements — gathering some of the remnants of your arousal on the head.

His fingers grasp at your jaw, gently forcing you to make direct eye contact. "Hey, hey, look at me," he whispers, "Relax, honey, it's going to hurt a little since it's your first time, yeah?"

You give him a nod, lip bitten at your teeth.

"If it hurts, we stop, no big deal — got it?"

You give him another nod of reassurance. It was a huge thing to give up, to put trust into the hands of another man — but it was him, your lieutenant, the man you've admired and personally worshipped like your own god. You trusted him with your life, that's how far it was taken, and now you could trust him with taking your virginity; ruining yourself for him.

With the given permission, he slowly fills you up, the head of his cock slipped into your cunt. He groans at the tight sensation, a whimper of your end at his lengthy size inside of you. You already feel so filled, and it was only the blunt head that had been in you. Ghost immerses in how you feel clenched around him, tight and leaving him almost unable to fully thrust himself in; the intimate way your legs bracket at his waist, how your arms wrap his torso like a bandage and your fingers jab at his back muscles.

"Ghost—" you whine out, feeling yourself clench around the head of his cock that left you almost brain-dead — unable to speak, or form a coherent thought at that, "Oh, fuck..."

His large hands keep you confined at your waist, lips pressing at your face while one hand frees itself and cradles you in it. "Still doing okay, sweetheart?" he asks with a genuine concern, and you nod, allowing him to thrust the remaining inches of his cock right into your cunt. Your back arches off the mattress at the sudden movement and the short sting that accompanies it. "Doing so good, love."

He starts out in slow, steady thrusts and you whine with the flow of his hips against yours. Gradually, he speeds up once coming to the realization that you were already adapted to how he moved up inside of you. Your fingers at his back begin to dig deeper, breaking the skin and leaving red marks in the wake. His stamina is a whole stage of extremity than your own, which is why he's able to pound into your cunt without pause.

"You love this don't you, sweet girl?" he pants, "You love having your sweet little pussy filled up by your superior's big cock, huh?"

You rapidly nod with pants between your lips, saliva down the corners of your widened mouth, "Love it s'much, Ghost, oh—"

"My real name, say it, honey."

You whimper, the bottoms of your eyes twitching. "Love how you fuck me, Simon — be rough with me, please, I don't care anymore."

At the your request, his particular set of thrusts afterwards of his are hard and nearing animalistic, right up at your cervix — nearly at your womb. He reduced you to nothing but a writhing, moaning mess where you laid under him; legs fixated at his waist and your arms at his torso forcing him down closer to you.

"Always wanted to fuck you like this, y'know?" he rasps between grunts, "Every-time one of those lowlife rookies eyed you, wanted to bend you over and show them who you belong to," he said, "Fuck in front of everyone like a bunch of animals.

An audible, echoing whine slips from your mouth at his own perverted confession. Who knew he shared the same fucked-up fantasies as you did? (Truly a match made in heaven.)

In the way he fucked into your cunt at a rapid pace, it could be considered animalistic — just like his fantasy. His veined hands caress your waist while every thrust of his hardened cock brushing past your walls and pounding into your cervix extracts an angelic sound from your mouth.

"More, please, please—" you whine out, head thrown back and nails into his skin, "I'll be your girl, 'mmm my god — your only girl, I promise..."

He grunts. "That's right, bunny. I'm the only man who can fuck you like this," he said, "I'll make you remember this night, the first man to ever ruin you like this."

Ghost throws his head back, his posture aligning itself out while his jaw clenches. Sounds of skin-on-skin and a chorus of high-pitched whines along with raspy, masculine grunts leave the safe-house no longer deserted; conducted of sexual nature in its walls. You squeal as he never fails to reach your cervix while he continues to pound into you, addicted to the way your cunt clenches on him like a vice and how your body reacts to his cock impaling it like a natural instinct — clamping on, soaked of arousal just at the mere thought of it settled in you.

The space between your two thighs are messier than the first time, when you found yourself being carried like a bride in his arms, when you ground yourself right to the bulge of his pants. It's sloppy, with a combination of your arousal and his pre-cum painting your inner-thighs like a piece of artwork; the whole scene a scenario of a sexual, brutal renaissance painting.

"M' so close, Simon!" you squeal, "Need you to cum inside, mmph — please..."

"You want that, sweet girl?" he asks, "Want me to cum all inside of your pretty pussy?"

"Yes!"

He chuckles. "You lil' fuckin' whore, all needy like this for her first time."

And with that, Ghost smacks his lips to yours. His tongue laps at each crevice of your mind, a hand coming to grab at your jaw and keep you in position. The results from him eating you out still linger on his tongue, causing you to moan right into his mouth and allow him to eat you all up. Your insides feel raw at this point in the way his cock leaves squishes noises each time he meets with your puffy, sticky folds — cervix bruised and kissed with his overwhelming contact.

"C'mon, princess, show your lieutenant who you belong to," he breathes between kisses, "That's it, I know you can, bunny."

Ghost feels the abrupt stop of your clawing at his back when your cunt spasms around his cock, clenching as tightly when a burst of liquid seeps out and decorates the head of his cock, drooling down the veiny sides. The pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen clit during your orgasm, a loud whine earned at the contact. His cock twitches inside of you at your noise, and at the discernment of your pretty cunt squeezing down on him; in some way telling him to stay, never let you go, claim and haunt you down to never leave your side, never.

With your orgasm already wrapped and concluded, he undergoes one of his own; not long after yours. A gush of fluid plants at your walls and floods past your cervix, felt at the inners of your womb. Sensitivity still contemporary, you find yourself mewling at the impact when it spills to the parts deepest inside of you — coddled in the warmth of his seed, filled to the brim. He's quite the artist himself, painting your insides one of the prettiest tints of white. You capture him in a hug, pressing your face into the open slant of his neck while he sinks in the position for a little while longer. He returns the embrace and massages at your breasts before wrapping you in a full hug, collapsing to your body.

He rearranges the stances of your bodies while in the embrace — him on the bottom, while you lay on his larger structure. Your head rests on his naked chest, tiny pants from your mouth while he is successful in catching after his own breaths; his hand in your hair, petting in comforting strokes while he presses repeated kisses to your scalp.

"How was that for you first time, love?" he asks once in breath again.

"Brutal," you said, "I liked it, though."

"Think that grenade powder had quite the effect on us," he said, "fuckin’ hell."

You nosed at his jaw, kissing at him, inhaling his scent of sweat and gunpowder — addictive. "Never knew my superior could be such a pervert just cause of a little powder."

"Not only the powder, doll," he said, "It's you."

#♡ fleur’s writings.#simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #oneshot #female reader

4K notes · View notes

a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 5 months

Text

Make Me Beg

Ghost x Reader

Ghost had been curious to see if you could be the one to make him beg for a change, in which to both his pleasure and dismay, you oblige.

NSFW 18+, Shameless Smut, Porn w/ little Plot, Explicit Description, Graphic Language, AFAB Reader, P in V Sex, Teasing, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Slight build-up, A lot of edging, slight Nipple-Play, Tit-Fucking, Handjobs, Kissing, Blowjobs, Fingering, somewhat Touch Starved!Ghost, Dom!Reader (in essence), One Shot, Somewhat proofread

WC: 3.4k~

A/N: I haven't written anything since November. Trying to dust off the old bones. I hope you enjoy~

Masterlist

"Go on then," Ghost challenged you, this towering mass of man now looming in the doorway to your apartment like an impending shadow. "Make me beg for it."

You scoff, the remaining space between you two growing smaller by the second. You had been joking earlier (and a bit tipsy) when you claimed you could make him beg for you if you tried hard enough; a fast-growing habit, teasing him ever since you learned of his interest in you. To be fair, he'd been rather shy about it. But it seems it only took a few drinks and some jeering from the others tonight for him to finally do something.

He closes the door behind himself, still masked and in his boots, as he saunters towards you, his height and size growing more massive at every lost inch of space. His olive eyes, near black in the muted lights of your living room, seem to be devouring the entirety of your form before him, standing idle with your heart thumping within your throat. The smirk on your face can only hide it so well.

"Make you beg?" You cross your arms and start to lean on your hip rather provocatively. "Why? Do you want to beg for me, Simon?"

Ghost chuckles, his eyes dipping between your lips and collarbone, and noticing how you swallow at the sight, as your skin calls to him like a siren's song. In reality, it wouldn't be a hard thing at all having him beg for you, but did you know that? It's what's got him so curious to find out.

"I want to see if you can make me," he says. "Since you seemed so confident earlier. Or was it just talk?"

The way his voice rolls from his tongue like a husky growl has you near weak in the knees. Making him beg you seemed more daunting at every second, but you always loved a challenge. You lick your lips and step even closer, leaving your body just barely out of reach. You can tell he wants to lean in just from how his head is ducked down at you, eyes having been locked on yours since stepping in. Like a predator in every way, wanting to work for his meal.

“How exactly do I make you beg?” you ask him.

“I can't give you all the ideas,” he teases.

You pout. “And I'm guessing you're not gonna make it easy for me then.”

“Where's the fun in that, love?”

You cross your arms and think, tilting your head to the side and looking him up and down. All the while you felt his body heat radiating before you, his rainy pine-like scent from outside filling your nostrils. He keeps his hands at his sides, however much he wants to let them rest at your hips and pull you in, having you begging him instead.

And then it hits you.

“I know just the thing.”

By the fifteenth-minute mark of Ghost not-so-patiently waiting alone for you to emerge from your restroom, he’d begun wondering what it could be that you were cooking up for him tonight. No doubt, it had something to do with this little idea that had suddenly popped into your head.

“How much longer?” He calls to you from by your dresser, having just started curiously looking at all the little souvenirs stacked there.

More thumping erupts from your side of the door, as though you were hopping about. “Just… give me a few more seconds...”

The bathroom door swings open, sweet scents and perfume pooling out behind you as you slowly step out. Once Ghost has laid his eyes on you, however, all the blood in his body damn near rushes to the lower halves of himself, his skin catching aflame like napalm. He knew you would give him your best shot, but he hadn't expected you to be so prepared.

You'd put on lingerie, a pair you'd been saving for a night special like this. It fits your form more perfectly than Ghost felt he deserved to bear witness to, from the way the lace meshes with the most supple parts of your breast, rising and falling at every breath you make, all the way to how your panties hug your hips, just screaming to be tugged away. How you could have been hiding a body as fine as this from him for so long would be a mystery forever lost in time.

Watching his eyes bounce up and down on your body makes you damn near want to burst into laughter. Maybe this will be easier than you initially thought.

“Was it worth the wait?” you ask.

Ghost slowly steps forward, looming, as his eyes haven't wavered once. “It’s about to be.”

And then you smirk. “Good. Now for the rules.”

Ghost pauses. “Rules?”

“That’s right,” you nod. “Since you want to challenge me. We have rules now.”

Ghost stands there slack-jawed beneath his mask, all the ideas he had running in his mind translating into a less-than-excited glare. The rules couldn't be all too bad, he imagined. And it wasn't like you were turning him away either. So he'll bite.

“A’right, let’s hear ‘em.”

“No touching.”

“Wha’?”

“No touching.”

“What’s so ever?”

“No, no. I get to touch you.” As you speak, letting your words ooze off your lips like honey, you close that last little bit of space you two had, finally letting a single hand rest on his boulderous chest. It's enough to make the man ready to tear your clothes off right then and there. “I get to touch you all I like,” you say. “However I like, for however long I like. But you… no touching. Not unless you beg me. And if you don’t listen, you'll have to beg me to forgive you.”

Ghost gives you a more lustful stare, feeling how your fingers curve over his broad muscles even through his coat. You look up at him, having bit your lips and exhaled ever so dauntingly, silently telling him how much you were about to enjoy yourself with him.

So he can't touch you? Very well then, bring it. Let's see what tricks you had under your sleeve.

“Such a tricky woman you are,” he all but purrs. “Very well then, I’ll play your game.”

“I thought you might.”

Gently, you guide the man back until his large legs had brushed your bed, where he willingly sat before you. Your hands then slowly slide across his body, his eyes not being able to help but take in the fullness of your own. But it wasn't until he'd felt this itching urge to reach out and feel your skin for himself that he began realizing just how difficult this challenge might be. It wouldn't help that his pants were growing uncomfortably tight, just begging for your touch of relief.

You would oblige him, somewhat slowly, however. You get down to your knees and work your way towards undressing him. First removed are his boots, then his coat, his pants, soon to be followed by his shirt. It's at this point you take a small step back to look at your new plaything for the night.

Ghost's body already looks good even in uniform, so seeing this muscular and scarred mass of man before you, all tatted and warm-blooded, felt just as surreal and awe-inducing as it had in your dreams. It didn't make you any less wet seeing him like this either.

“You want the mask on?” he asks you, breaking that little trance you were in. The man already couldn't touch you, he wasn't sure if he could sit through these temptations much longer.

You begin your answer by resting both your hands on his knees, letting yourself lean further in. It almost makes you laugh when you feel the hairs on his thighs begin rising from your touch, his body reacting against this cool demeanor you continued masquerading. “I'll take it off when I feel like it.”

“As you wish,” he teases. “I'm at your full disposal tonight, love. Both mind and body.”

“That you are.” You gently separate the man's legs, leaving before you a massive canyon of muscle leading toward an almost distractingly large bulge. It practically throbs beneath the fabric, already hard and aching for you. The longer your eyes linger there, the longer Ghost feels his breath trapped in his throat. Your sudden smile brings him back to, nonetheless, if rather anxiously so. “Now, be a good boy and keep your hands at your sides. That's something you can manage, yes?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

It's the way he doesn't argue with you, following your command as obediently as he would on the job that has you so excited to get started. You just couldn't wait to finally break that unshakable composure of his; making a play-toy out of him was just the added bonus.

Your hand reaches between his legs, cupping over his cock and taking a hefty but gentle handful, as the entire mass of it all was already too much for a single hand. His breathing comes low and shaky like small huffs from the nose, biting back moans as you slowly pull him free of his trousers, his cock spilling out large and ready. It was taking all of him not to have his eyes already rolling back behind his skull from your touch, and even more so not to lift a finger and join you.

“Goodness gracious,” you say teasingly. “How long have you been hiding this?”

Ghost begins to quip, only to have the words catch in his throat as you let your two fingers trace up his shaft, brushing against the soft, throbbing skin of his cock like feathers. You let your touch teeter between teasing and pleasing him, your index finger playing with his tip and smearing slick across the head of his cock and your thumb. Your other hand soon joins, before gently taking the base and dancing your fingers over him. It makes his entire body shiver, a moan trapping itself in his throat.

Of course, you do everything in your power to try and force those moans out of him; it had been the best part of this. You wanted the sound of his lust-drunk voice to soothe the back of your mind for all your future days to come. But even now, you knew he was holding some part of himself back, if not to challenge you in return.

"Don't be shy now, Si'," you said. "Let me hear you."

"You'll have to make me," he said back. "If you can manage that."

"I'm just warming up, in fact."

You begin jerking him off, only you do it so lightly, with gentle tugs and swipes of your finger, that it wouldn't be enough to finish the job, instead overstimulating the man and sending his body into an impatient frenzy. Despite his continued refusal to let his lips part and moan for you, the low hums he released and the heavy breathing of his chest let you know well enough that it had been taking everything in him not to. And seeing him start to squirm only makes you giggle devilishly.

You go at this inconsistent and playful rhythm for about seven minutes, though for Ghost that had felt equivalent to a half hour of pure sexual torture. And the worst part of all of this had been his hands, balling the sheets within his fists at his sides so as to not reach over and take hold of you.

No touching, you told him. He should have guessed it wouldn't be so easy.

“We'll be ‘ere all night at this rate,” he quips, though his words come out so stifled they're nearly at a whisper.

You giggle in response. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“Maybe not for you,” he says. “You're the one having all the fun.”

“Aw, this isn't fun, Si’?”

Ghost gives you the most deadpan look when he speaks, his voice low and filled with hunger. “Fun would be me throwing you on this bed ‘ere behind me and fucking you ‘til the sun rises.”

Ghost leans in now, letting his masked lips get so close to you that you could practically feel his breath in your ear. “You know you like the sound of that,” he growls. “Having me fuck you all night. Just bouncing up and down on my cock while I rail you good and deep. You want that, don't you love?”

You push him back against the bed, giving him a smug look as your grip on his cock grows more firm. Suddenly you've used your other hand to reach behind yourself, letting your bra unclasp and spill to the floor. Your breasts, now naked to him, look so moldable to the touch, the light curving off your skin so mouth-wateringly; Ghost wanted to do more than just touch you at this point. And even beneath a mask, you could tell. You could see it in his doe-like gaze.

“Just say the magic words then,” you smile. “Beg me.”

“What should I say?”

“I can't give you all the ideas.”

Not letting up your teasing, you finally take your hands away from him, your fingers now wet with spit and slick, rubbing over your breasts. Your fingers dance across your nipples before hugging your tits together and squeezing them with a light hum. You then lean forward and let the head of his cock gently press at your nipple, pre-cum webbing between you two as your hands to continue making a mess of yourself.

If he stared at you playing with him any longer, then the aching pain in his groan may just drive him insane. He hadn't cared any longer that your toying had his knuckles near white gripping the sheets, nor that the heat from your body had his toes curling, words barely able to process without coming out in a breathy grunt. He could watch you at his knees playing with him all day, if only this unbridled arousal could finally be released.

A bright idea crosses his mind, and then he closes his eyes. Your actions wouldn't go but the sensations wouldn't be as crazy if he weren't looking into your seductive gaze as you did them. For a few seconds that worked… until he felt something warm and wet engulf him, sucking lightly and making his hips begin to buck.

He opens his eyes and sure enough your mouth had gone over him, but only over the tip, as you let your drooling tongue circle about his cock like ice cream.

Your eyes meet his, and then you take your mouth away, replacing your look with a cheeky smile. You aren't about to let him off the hook so easily.

“I was just checking to make sure you were still awake,” you say.

“Fuckin’ evil, you are,” he grunts through another moan. “Not even a hint?”

“Say please.”

Please? It felt like such a simple thing to say now, though the more he thought about it the more he could feel his pride getting punched. You continuing to let your tits rub against his shaft made for a nice way to mend that pain, however, your breasts doing a better job at jerking him off than any hand he's ever felt before.

“...Please.”

You gasp playfully. “Please what?”

“Please let me touch you,” he said.

“Is that all?”

You never did like to make it simple. Ghost shakes his head and grunts. “‘Tis not all...”

“I'm listening.”

Ghost sits up again, towering over you once more as he looks you in your eyes, skin damn near burning with heat.

“Let me fuck you,” he said. “I wanna make you feel as good as you’re doin’ me now. I want to have your body shaking-- aching for me. I want to hear your voice cryin’ out my name ‘til it gives out and it's nothin’ but gasps and hiccups. Need I say more?”

You sit there motionless for a moment just taking in the words, as Ghost's eyes all but devoured you, waiting feverishly for your reply. You'd been smiling all night, but this had really brought the shine to your lips.

You lift your hand and reach out, until you've clasped the top of his mask, before finally unveiling the blond and facing a hardened and scarred face flushed with lust. The second his mouth was bare you finally let your lips taste his, as you pulled him into a sloppy kiss still slurred by your earlier drinking. A few pecks are left before parting ways, letting your legs straddle him as you nibbled at his bottom lip on the way out. For a moment he had seemed hesitant to kiss you back, if only for two seconds, before his kisses grew so overpowering that you’d almost forgotten who’d initiated this in the first place.

With one final smirk, you say, “OK.” And like a starved beast, he takes hold of you, quickly reversing the roles and placing you onto your back. As he was now towering over you, suddenly you feel as though you might regret all the teasing from earlier.

Ghost takes a moment to himself just to look at you, his eyes slowly traveling up and down your body, and his heart rate increasing. He then lifts a hand and reaches out; you half expected him to touch you in the obvious areas, however, he surprises you when his hand cups your cheek, simply bringing your gaze to his.

“Now,” he lets his thumbs gently caress you. “I was thinking on giving you a taste of your own medicine… at first.” His thumb now glides across your lip as he speaks, slowly trailing down your body, past your collarbone, and then your naval, before finally forcing their way past the seam of your panties, large fingers now teetering at the edge of your clit. He holds himself there, just knowing his hand being only inches from your pussy was already driving you mad, your little lip-bite proving as such.

“You could do that, yes,” you nod.

“I could,” he agreed, his two fingers now curving over your cunt and teasing at your dripping hole, making a soaking mess of his fingers almost immediately. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to bring those fingers over your clit and go to town, yet he kept his hand still, his eyes remaining firmly on yours. “I'd have you beg me now; you wouldn't last a minute I reckon.”

“You want to bet?”

Ghost brings those same wet fingers back to his cock, where he slicks the mess you'd made over his pulsating erection, letting his large, rough thumb swipe at your dripping slit for more lubricant every so often, until his skin was damp with you.

His hands grip your thighs like play-doh as he gives them a light squeeze, pushing your legs back until your knees were at your ears and your cunt was spread bare to him like a juicy, pink desert. He can't keep himself away after witnessing such a maddening sight between your legs, pulling himself closer and letting his cock rest heavily below your navel. The sheer mass of it made the weight against your belly unavoidably heavy, your lower halves throbbing in ways you're sure he'd grown recently familiar with.

“I already told you what I want to do,” he says, while just as casually taking hold of himself and rubbing the tip of his head roughly against your clit, flicking and massaging it teasingly. You've barely any time to let your lip quiver in delightful anticipation before the walls of your pussy are suddenly and slowly penetrated. Ghost has already started a brutally long thrusting in and out of you the second that wet heat cups over his cock, making sure you felt every girthy inch of him on the way in. With a final shaky breath, before he puts his full efforts into making a mess of your body, Ghost brings his lips to your ear, letting his teeth and warm breath tickle and graze at your earlobe, wanting you to hear him clearly as he tells you, “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til my name comes out your mouth like hiccups.”

And he does just that.

Between the sound of his name bubbling out your throat at every deep thrust he made in you, and the harsh smacking of his lower half against yours, giving you that pleasurably rough grind with each impact, you’d been drooling with tears falling down your cheeks by the tenth consecutive minute. All the while, Ghost took advantage of his newfound ability to feel you, his large hands cupping and pawing at your breasts like stress balls, kneading at your flesh, and imprinting the very shape of you into his palms. When he grew bored with one position, he’d only flip you over and let you ride him next, watching you bounce on top and take all of him in like you’d been born to do so.

Your body quivers and shakes above him with pleasure as you feel his hands slide up your torso, taking another handful of your tits. You begin to fold above him, your face burying itself in his chest from the overwhelming sensation another orgasm had brought you.

Now it had been his turn to laugh. “Don’t tire out now, love,” he teases. “There’s still a few more hours ‘til the mornin’.”

(^3^) it's good to be back~

577 notes · View notes

bangaveragewhitewine · 7 months

Text

the boy is mine (amy's edition)

Written as part of @carolmunson ‘s the boy is mine writing exercise which is such a fun and gorgeous idea!

wc: 1,800

contents: love-sick best friends turned lovers, set in 1985 (there's an angstier version of this in my drafts...), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), Eddie's boner mention, kissing until your lips hurt

notes: Well, I’d love to lie and say that this was a breeze, but writing has been incredibly difficult for me lately. Fighting with myself comes easier than writing these days, but this is a really fabulous idea. Feeling ✨part of something✨ is really special (and a little daunting). Thank you, Carol 🩷

the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer.

the guidelines: prompt, props and dialogue are all here

April 1985

You watch silver smoke curl and melt into the air as the cigarette burns between Eddie’s lips. The scent of it cuts through the lingering fug of weed and sex and sweat. His hands are busy with pen and paper, jotting lyric ideas into his little notebook.

It feels a little bit romantic that he is so inspired after fucking you.

Your chilly feet rub together beneath the covers. It’s hard to resist the urge to stick them between his shins but you don’t want to ruin his artistic flow by shocking him with your arctic toes.

Fade to Black plays from the boombox on his messy dresser. Eddie had wound the tape back to restart the almost seven-minute track after the first listen-through and grinned unapologetically when you rolled your eyes at him. His head bobs to the beat as he scribbles and you shift your attention to a particularly perfect curl lying across his shoulder, the dark black ink pressed into his skin.

If your camera were closer, you would snap a picture of him. But for now, you store the image of him away in your mind. In twenty, thirty, forty years, you will remember tonight and smile. There’s a whole life ahead of you to plan with him, and you’re pretty sure Eddie wants in on it too.

“Your Mama never told you it’s rude to stare, princess?” he asks, rereading what he had just spilled onto the page. He clicks the pen three times before folding the notebook closed. His wave of inspiration has peaked and you are, once again, his sole focus.

“Maybe. Probably.” You shrug one shoulder before taking the cigarette from between his lips.

The way your lips hug the filter makes Eddie’s body thrum to life all over again. When you lean across him to tap off the ash, he takes his chance to pull you against his chest and lock you into his lap, closer than close. The cigarette is left to burn out as you trade smokey, wet kisses back and forth between smiling lips until you are both laughing at nothing, at everything. At that little whiney noise lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, and the way he taps the opening bars of Trapped Under Ice against your bare body.

That throaty, dirty laugh makes you feel warm all over. His cheeks are rosy-warm and cherubic when he smiles at you. You want to nibble them but settle on gentle kisses instead. His eyelids and forehead are next, then his nose, before you work your way back to his lips. It’s a tender moment after those almost unstoppable giggles, rib-aching and eye-watering laughter that comes easy when you’re with Eddie - more free-flowing when you’re still a little bit faded.

“Want the rest of that pizza?” Eddie asks after a few moments. His mouth has been busy kissing your neck and shoulder, and the way his breath catches on damp patches makes you shiver.

A few more smiling kisses are traded before you vacate the cocoon of body-warm blankets together to don discarded sweaters and underwear. Eddie glues himself to your back in a penguin shuffle to the kitchenette to raid the forgotten pizza box and the stash of munchie-friendly snacks stowed away in the cupboard.

The formica feels cool against the back of your thighs as you chew thoughtfully on the cooled-off slice. There are empty cans of High Life on the table between the melted candles; Eddie’s romantic ideas of tea lights and the champagne of beers had set the butterflies in your stomach swirling when you stepped into the trailer that evening. The VHS cases and TV remote are lost between the couch cushions and throw pillows, cast aside before you could even decide what to watch in favour of making out hot and heavy.

Eddie holds up two soup-recipe mugs. “I ran out of like, nice cups, this okay?" he asks.

The unwashed everyday mugs are abandoned in the sink and Eddie’s own Garfield mug is a quarter full of flat soda on his dresser. You know better than to suggest one of the collectables perched high on the shelves and hooks in the living room, and Eddie does too. Wayne is still irked about the cracked commemorative Moon Landing mug. It’s been glued together and sits safely on a higher-up shelf since thirteen-year-old Eddie had wanted to impress you, his new friend, with hot cocoa.

You look back at the bowl-cups, and wonder if anyone ever used the recipe on the front. “They are nice. I’ve always wanted to drink not-soup out of these. Feels illegal.”

Everyone always said he would be a bad influence on you, drag you down. They never saw that soft side to Eddie Munson, but you did. Using soup bowls as cups is far from ritual sacrifice and grand theft auto.

When he looks at you, perched on the counter in his hoodie and no pants, eating cold pizza, he feels like he might be looking at an angel. Your post-sex hair is your messy halo.

He comes to stand between your thighs and you feed him a bite before pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead simply because you want you. Because you can now. Now that the pretence of being just friends has finally (finally) been dropped. Everything about your night together - now that you are together - is pretty similar to how it’s always been. Pizza and laughing until your ribs hurt, smoking enough to make you loose-limbed and ravenous. You spend less time looking at his lips and fingers and wondering what they feel like; you know now, and get to sample any time.

He steals one more bite before popping the lid on a can of Betty Crocker vanilla frosting from the cupboard. It has been a solid fixture of your garbage-food fixes since you and Eddie were fourteen and fifteen and home alone with a stack of horror movies to watch; Betty and two spoons, maybe some peanut butter or salty chips for balance. Now there is always a can in the cupboard, in your house and in the trailer, for when the cravings hit. When you move to Indy together after graduation, it’s top of your grocery list.

Eddie feeds you the first spoon, hovering it in front of your lips so you will come and take it. He feels a little like a pervert when he watches you eat it, lips around the cold metal and your eyes closed. You know exactly what you’re doing, doling out a little payback for Eddie getting distracted with his lyrics and set-lists while you were cuddling.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” you ask, tongue thick and coated with sweet vanilla.

“Just appreciating the art, sweet thing,” he fires back, winking at you before taking a bite of frosting. His brows pull in like he’s pondering something. “Mm. Wonder if there’s a Mr Crocker…”

You shove his head as he cackles that goblin-laugh of his and you try not to smirk at the same joke he’s been telling for years.

“You want an older model, Munson? Karen Wheeler’s been looking pretty dolled up lately…” You take the spoon, tapping it against your lip as Eddie pulls a face.

“Oh yeah, MILFs of Hawkins, come get me.” Eddie rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers up your bare legs to find the soft curve of your waist. “Only girl for me is riiight here, baby. You’re all the woman I need.”

He’s pressed up close with his chin resting against your chest, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

“Better tell O’Donnell that. I think she has a crush, s’why she keeps giving you detention.”

“You’re a fuckin’ sicko.” Eddie’s reverence shifts into a scowl as he rests against your chest, but softens again when your fingers slide into his hair, coaxing him to relax and melt against you.

“And you like that?” you ask.

“I do.”

Eddie can feel the sped-up thud of your heart beneath his ear, matching the beat of his own. A peaceful moment settles over the kitchen.

Until a tendril of mischief unfurls inside you. Imitating that nasally, cringe-inducing voice of O’Donnell blended with something a little breathy, you whisper in his ear, “Edward Munson. I want to see you after class. You’ve been a very bad boy…”

He steps back from you, hands over his ears so he can’t hear any more of your teasing. It’s cold without him all wrapped up and pressed against you.

“Divorce. Divorcing you. Get out.”

Your cheeks ache, like when you’ve had a lollipop lodged there for a little too long. It’s sweet and cloying like the joy you take from riling him up like this. “Aw, don’t be like that!”

“Too late. I’m taking the house and the kids.”

“That’s not even…” you cut yourself off, laughing too hard, and Eddie can’t even hide his own smile; he can’t buy into his own dramatics when you sit glowing on his kitchen counter, damp-eyed from laughing so hard (even if it is at his expense).

“M’sorry, sorry. Don’t divorce me.” You pout and open your arms out, grabby hands poking from the too-long sleeves until he slopes back between your legs and folds against you. Your mind wanders briefly to a future where you’re Mrs Munson; it sounds nice.

As stubborn as he can be, Eddie thaws after a few sweet kisses cut with quiet little murmurs of ‘forgive meee’. You feed him another spoon of icing as a sign of peace, sweetening him up just a little more before licking what’s left off of the tip and edge.

You feel his hands squeezing tighter on your hips, bringing your attention back to Eddie and away from the frosting.

“Hm?”

“If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem.” He sees your confused expression and taps the spoon. “I’m gettin’ jealous. Of a spoon.”

You can feel the problem, warm and thick against your leg. It does not feel like much of a problem, and you both can think of a few tried and tested solutions to make it all better - a few more to be explored are jotted on a page of another small notebook tucked away in Eddie’s drawer.

“Is it a problem? Really?” you ask, head tilted with the metal tap-tapping against your lips before you go in for another indulgent scoop.

“Okay, I’m cutting you off.”

The spoon is snatched and thrown, and it clangs against the mugs in the sink as Eddie takes your hands and hauls you down from the counter. You taste vanilla on his tongue, sharing the sweetness with you as you stumble blindly back to his room.

thank you for reading🩷reblogs, likes and comments are welcome and cherished!

Don't forget to check out the rest of the fics from the challenge!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #bangaveragefics

602 notes · View notes

suguru-getos · 7 months

Text

“they’ll kill you!” — “can they?”

satosugu x reader — cnc

warnings: cnc!, degradation, prone!bone, doggy, use of toys, clamps, spreader, spankings. aftercare <3 pls note that it’s not beta’d there might be typos xx 💋

you were tired as you returned from work, footsteps dragging across from the stairs to finally reach the bedroom of the sato-sugu estate. this was the least thrilling bit of your day, no one was home. satoru was busy with a mission & suguru was outside — doing you don’t know what. you don’t question the morality of your husband number two. you’ve learnt to let him be in his element, just like satoru.

opening the refrigerator, you found satoru’s mochi, suguru’s favorite soup & a little bit of leftovers from the morning lunch prepared by the chef. they’re also on leave & at this point you’re conflicted between using the ordering in app in your phone, or cooking something for yourself. a grunt escapes you as you weigh down the options and settle down on the marvelous wood sculpted chair of the dining table. scrolling aimlessly through the various restaurants to get something that you desire. fucking hell! why is ordering food such a daunting task! when satoru and suguru return, you’d bother them & be clingy endlessly just cause you miss their brainless bickering. satoru would be just as aimless like you, fumbling through the menu and debating on what to order… suguru would have the same thing eaten on repeat. so much so that it annoys the both of you.

speaking of — it goes without saying how many ‘enemies’ your husbands have. one is a special grade sorcerer, the other is a bloody cult leader. both of them jacked & bagged with heaps of copius amounts of money & status in their own ways. you’re their silly little wife, someone capable of becoming a sorcerer, someone who could see curses and cursed spirits, yet choosing a life like nanami kento. a life away from the wretched world of sorcery.

a thud, takes your attention away from your phone a bit. who could it be? there are cats in the estate which are regularly fed, it could be your son (your cat that you and your husbands cherish equally). you roll your eyes and go back to checking the menu. fuck this, if you don’t have any ideas on what to order, you will order some spicy cheesy ramen & get go with your day.

after placing the order, you dragged yourself to the bathroom to take a shower, it would be better before bed after all, sleeping in plush clean pillows and letting your body heat come down as the cold water would drench your worries away.

your phone vibrated before you could take another step to the bedroom, it was suguru, “oh hey…” you chirped, smiling over the phone. “hey darling, reached home?” he sounds cheerful, mostly when he hears your voice of course. you’ve noticed suguru talks to you in the most gentlest of ways; enough to sound patronising at times. you know its not his intention though… “yeah, just reached home. when are you n’ toru coming?” you pouted over the speaker, and he chuckled. “give me an hour or two and i’ll be right there, next to my beautiful angel. mm?” you gnaw at your lip, nodding gently, the realization coming later that he can’t really ‘see’ your response and you hummed, “yeah, come soon to me mkay?”

where were you again? ah… the shower…

the doorbell rang, your eyes instantly mingling with the lit screen of your watch as you turned your wrist. jeez, it had only been 15 minutes or so since you ordered, the food is here so soon? you checked your phone, and the order was still showing ‘preparing’ status. weird… who could it be?

you walked towards the entrance, and the knock was more powerful, almost angry sounding & impatient. “who’s there?” you raised a brow, sighing a little to gather your patience and also your wits.

no answer…

then, the door was knocked off the hinges, you shrieked almost, walking backwards and pupils moving in fear. what was even happening? there were two men, one of them had bangs and the other white haired and scary looking. he smirked, walking closer to you and holding your face instantly, squeezing your cheeks into a forced pucker. “dumb little thing can’t even open a door? jeez?” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

the dude with bangs held his shoulder, a knowing, close-eyed smile. “leave it be, she must be their weakling of a wife, gojo.”

he nodded, “weakling indeed, look at how she’s cowering.” he chuckled, leaning in and licking a fat strip of your neck, from your collarbone to your ear. you wince, struggling and trying hard to push him away. “SWOP IT!” you whined, the grip on your cheek turning harder and making it difficult to sound coherent.

“swop it!” gojo mimicks you, pushing you a little as he lets you go. “ we were here to steal the cursed tools but we might as well do some cursed thingys, no?” he snickered, and you shake your head, nauseated as your heart raced and you leaned back, unlucky enough to be stopped by a wall.

“m-my husbands- will be home soon… if you really care about your lives then leave!” you sounded as intimidating as possible, trying so hard to evade the bone crushing anxiety that the two powerful men were giving. “of course, we’d be gone by then.” the man with bangs replied, ignoring you and looking around. “nice house, your husbands don’t care about you enough it seems, why else would they leave their little wife alone in such a looming, large place?”

“shut up! even if you leave they’d hunt you down and they’d find you! suguru can deploy curses that are exceptional in hunting people down.” you only have your husbands and their skills to protect you right now. “did you hear that geto? she’s so mouthy and has such an attitude, damn!”

“about time we show her the world isn’t a good place… also, with a body like that? she’s practically asking for it.” the black haired man — geto, chuckled, rolling his eyes and walking closer.

your mind was hazy by now, and all you could see was the corridor to make a run to. you do exactly that, and how stupid— it took gojo exactly four steps to catch up to you by your hair and chuckle at your screaming. “let me go! let me go!” you winced, letting your feet dragged back to the couch. “would be fun to ruin her at this point.” geto hums, crossing his arms & smirking at the way you shake your head no, pleading almost.

“in the same bed her bastard husbands make sweet sweet love to her.” gojo chuckles, “aww, don’t look at us like thaatt? i’m sure they would understand that boobs like that would get ya into trouble.” gojo winked, smirking.

“ass, too.” geto added, smirking gently.

“piss off and die, rot in hell and fucking die!” you snarled, tearing up at the way they talked about you. “can’t handle them mouthy tell ya that.” gojo sounded almost feigning apologetic, bringing out a handkerchief out from his pocket and holding both ends diagonally.

you were about to be gagged, terror seeped through your eyes as you shook your head. but geto was faster, immediately hindering all your resistance by keeping you locked. his hands quickly wrapping around your wrist and holding it behind your back, his legs wrapping around yours, spreading your thighs apart vulnerably.

"aw good one!" gojo comments, smirking and walking closer. "stop it, stop it right now!" you screeched, using your last chance to speak anything at all. gojo came closer, tying the handkerchief across the parting of your lips. only incoherent struggles and whines could escape you now.

"there we go, perfect little muzzled bitch." gojo chuckled, and you teared up at that statement, it was humiliating to have two men out here, having their way with you in the absence of your husbands. you hated the way it made you feel, how the proximity with geto was making your pelvis warm, and your insides... warm.

"she's crying... stop being so mean. maybe we can call satoru to help her? maybe he can coax and coddle her while we ruin her?" you widened your eyes at that insinuation, shaking your head no and muffled groans escaping you.

gojo chuckled, "aw, she wouldn't want that? why? scared they'd abandon you cause your insides changed shape to our cocks?" he smirked, "no worries sweetheart, we could hire you as our personal cocksleeve."

you glared at the man, not saying anything and saliva dribbling down your chin. "only if she's a good cocksleeve though" geto hums, shrugging. "don't get the special treatment if you're not good enough. or not tight enough."

"time to check!" gojo rubs his palms together, walking closer with eyes fucking you already. his hands are quick to rip off any clothing off of you, your cunt and your tits exposed to the two strangers and the cool air of the mansion.

it felt humiliating, all bare in front of two merciless, wolf like men who only want to ruin you. "would teach those two a lesson too, no?" geto mused and gojo nodded, "yeah, think they own the fuckin' world? now what? your wife knocked up by two strangers.."

"ruined, by two strangers." geto corrected gojo.

"ahhng- nn" you tried to manage to speak, unable to say anything coherent at all. only wiggling in resistance. you stop once you feel geto's semi nudge your ass though. this could do more harm than good.

"oh god she's grindin' already?" gojo smirked, walking closer and crossing his arms. "let's take her to the bedroom." they nodded, reaching that decision fast enough. when geto relents his hold on you, you're quick to hit his jaw with your head, feet landing aiming right at gojo's crotch. he holds your ankle and geto laughs, "couldn't even give me a nose-bleed, little one?"

you're the most terror-struck as you've ever been. you fucked up. pupils moving and heart racing. no way these two would let your silly little stunt go.

"she needs proper taming i'm telling you. like literally..." gojo laughs, almost looking impressed. "bend her over the couch."

"actually, i have a better plan" suguru muses, while your heart only gives out at the prospect of them discussing what to do with you. you hate how it's making you feel down there, and pretty sure they'd see that soon when your body betrays you.

gojo and geto only knowingly smile at each other, as if they were easily able to read the other's mind and they stride towards the bedroom. once you're placed on bed, this time gojo forces you on all fours, ignoring your whines and hand gripping your nape as he nails you to the bed. geto seems to be searching for toys you and your husbands indulge in from time to time.

he lets out an "aha!" when he finds them, smirking and taking out the clamps, the cuffs, the spreader, and the vibrator. your hands are cuffed behind your back and the spreader keeps your legs from closing. you are truly under their mercy now.

"mmgh mmf" you really wish you could do something, anything about it... "is that fucking cunt wet?" gojo is quick to dehumanize you for it, laughing. "don't tell me they've been pampering a slut as their wife?" it stings, his words sting and you close your eyes in disgust, a feeble attempt at closing your legs not gone unnoticed.

"why else would she be so embarrassed?" geto smirks. attaching the clamps to your nipples with some weights. satosugu have never tried the weights and the delicious tug on your tits only makes you whine more. he flicks the weights to let it jiggle like a pendulum and you cry out at the feeling. shuddering and whimpering at how your pussy clamps around nothing because of it.

"don't think this is enough, she needs proper punishment for trying to hit us." gojo scoffed, using the clamp right at your clit after testing it on his hand. you let out a surprised shriek, struggling with all your might against it, though you realize that would only worsen the ache in your tits. your pussy oozed out in your juices and fluttered as they bit your clit just right.

geto nods, slapping the fat of your bare ass with his hand, letting his handprint break out in a single hit. they really weren't playing around. every hit after that, makes you lurch forward, and makes the clamps wiggle and makes you cry out. gojo chuckles, watching your ass bruise with the spanking now. you lost count after ten, in your head, but you feel your mind float away, it's around 18 hits or so, that geto stops, when your whines and screams turn soft and dejected. when you give up.

you're so edged but the clamp on your clit wouldn't let you cum. "look at her, finally can't resist anymore?" he smirked, and upon not receiving a response, gojo tugs at your clit-clamp's chain a little. you cry out in pain, finally letting him remove the clamps altogether.

"yeah, finally someone's learnt how to behave." he smirked, and your whines turned into wheezing when the blood flow rushed back to your tits and clit, swathing you in a coughing fit as you choke on your spit. "oh jeez, calm down..." gojo scoffed, removing the gag from your mouth and watching the imprints of it on your face.

"you okay?" he's looking sympathetic and worried, and at the first chance of getting to speak again, you snap. "you're a fucking bastard with no manliness of your own, bet you don't even have a cock half as big as satoru"

he smirked again, chuckling and rolling his eyes. "the gag goes back on it seems." he looked at geto who shrugged, "no, let her scream when she realizes we're bigger and better than her husbands." before you could resist, you could feel the spread in your cunt lips from his fingers and the splitting apart sensation of his cock inside you.

crying out at the feeling, edged beyond belief, your cunt immediately hugs him down, his hand quick to un-do your cuffs and pulling you closer, letting your back collide against his chest as he drills your poor pussy apart, rutting without a single thread of restraint.

gojo only watches your breasts jiggle and jump at every thrust, leaning in and wrapping his warm mouth around the tortured, perked bud. his tongue languidly soothes over the bite mark of the clamp and he suckles, one hand pinching and kneading your tits to ensure the blood flow is back, the other rubbing circles at your clit. he undoes your spreader finally.

you moan like a whore indeed, this feels too good, you hate how good it feels and you despise how your senses are burning at this. the knot in your pelvis snaps and you gush all over geto's cock like a needy little girl, sending him reeling down also. you shake your head, the prospect of his warmth inside your cunt only makes you hate it further, "no- no no don't cum inside NO DON'T!" you cry out, shaking your head as his palm covers your mouth, muffling any cries as he churns your pussy by tucking and thrusting his load deeper.

you gasped and cried once geto finally comes to a halt. shoving you into a prone bone. "hey i'll take over, let her husbands discover a cum cocktail inside." gojo snickers, watching your body limping after the first orgasm as his cock shoves inside you easily, pistoning like a needy dog in a rut. the thrusts are powerful enough to feel like spanks of their own, and you only moan and whimper crudely; gritting your jaw at how amazing it feels and crumpling the mattress into your fists. this should not feel good... this should not feel this good. you're a cheater... your husbands would hate you.

"say what if they knew you had no problem cumming on our cocks?" geto chuckled watching you glance up at him teary eyed. "i hate this, i don't- AH" your sentences are reduced to moans already, and he chuckles.

the force on your tummy with the mattress nudged against it, and gojo's precise thrusts makes you twitch again. "uh uh... she's clamping again." he smirked at geto, "couldn't ask for permission from me, make sure she knows how to behave well now."

“we’ll just spank her swollen little clit this time around then” gojo smirked, and you widened your eyes in fear. your husbands long established that you only like it in a certain degree. these strangers knew nothing about you. you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “no- no- stop it.” before long, you we’re trying your best to squirm away from him, only getting locked in a headlock though, when gojo’s hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back.

“then ask for permission…” he laughs, only rutting deeper and more spitefully. your eyes are losing focus and you can sense your pelvis tightening, the familiar knot in your gut was about to snap again. “would rather fucking die!” you managed to put up a fight again, though your body betrays you again & you’re tipping off the edge. gojo’s timed thrusts against your gspot made you squirt a little. absolutely humiliating…

“oh oh not only did she came she fuckin’ squirted on another man’s cock? do you wanna be our hired cocksleeve that bad?” he muses, filling you up with his seed, his jaw muscles are tightened at the way your pussy takes him… while, you’re getting light headed with the headlock & the orgasm, eyes losing focus and mouth agape.

before your mind could register anything else, geto has you manhandled, holding your legs apart by hooking his arms under your knees and then holding your wrists as he gravely whispered, “told you to ask for permission, brat.”

“n- no no- no no no no no please please” you’re shaking your head, thrown off your post orgasm bliss instantly and shuddering, “no please please…”

“no please- please…” gojo mocks, slapping across your swollen cunt instantly. you cry out and wince, tearing up once again & reducing to weak sniffling. “no- no-” you resist and cry out.

he raises his hand again, feigning another hit and observing you flinch, close your eyes and look to the side, bracing. you look up when he doesn’t hit though…

“give me another orgasm on my cock since you’re so eager.” he hums, and your mind has just about had it. your body has had quite a ride filled with different emotions & a squirting orgasm. you shake your head no, biting my lip. “no.” you looked at gojo, and he raises a brow, “no?”

“no” you pouted, sniffling a little. “my husbands are coming soon, gonna kick your ass. they’ll kill you.”

“would they?” suguru hums, relenting his grip on your feet and your body, craddling you closer to him and leaning you against his chest, peppering your face with soft, tender kisses. you sniffle & nodded, “mm~ yeah…”

satoru sighs, pouting, “you okay? princess?” he’s shaking a little, hoping you don’t end up hating him. “you’re okay?” he asks again, pouty and looking like a kicked puppy. “i was so mouthy wasn’t i?” he’s about to spiral. “no it was so fun.” you snicker, looking at him with a huge grin. a huge wave of relief washes over his face as he pulls you from suguru, holding you plush and kissing all over your face, your lips, passionately running his hands through your hair.

“good girl, gosh you handled it so well.” he muses, suguru humming, kissing satoru’s forehead and yours. “my angel, you were so good you know that? we didn’t mean anything we said, you know that right?” he soothes over your ass. you nodded, “mm~ yeah, i know daddy.” you coo, kissing his cheek.

“good, good… fuck- never again!” satoru scoffs, pouting big and harsh. “i know he’d say that.” you chuckled and looked at suguru, who nodded, tight lipped. “uh… i second that.”

you nodded, you knew both of them were indulging only because you read a fanfiction of one of your favorite characters and wanted to try. “fine, fine… i’m the one who should behaved traumatized!” you chuckled, and they pout together.

“oh please i was about to break character so many times, i knew you would kick my ass so i didn’t.” suguru hums, nuzzling his nose against you. “OH YEAH SAME!” satoru dramatically yells, “when she coughed i was about to lose it oh gods no-”

“let’s take a shower…” you coax their conversation, kissing both their foreheads.

“alright…”

“i love you both.” you mumbled, loopy and so subby.

“we love you too!” they hummed together, kissing your cheek.

#jjk smut #jjk thirst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo thirst #geto smut #geto thirst #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satosugu #stsg x reader #poly stsg #poly satosugu x reader #poly stsg smut #poly stsg thirst #stsg thirst #stsg smut

863 notes · View notes

tulip-room · 9 days

Text

・❥・˚When They Knew Pt. 2 ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

syn. The moment they knew you were the one

featuring; Suna, Osamu, Tendo, Ushijima, Iwaizumi

pt. 1 (Kuroo, Sakusa, Kageyama, Atsumu, Oikawa)

Suna

When you get excited and hold his hand

A new game you had been waiting to play came out so you of course went to tell Suna about it

He didn’t think much of it as it was something you normally did and then you grabbed his hand and gave him that smile

Bro was gone. Two second away from getting on his knee to ask you to marry him

Suna was standing at the vending machines waiting for your class to end, the heat of the day making his skin sticky. Then you come bounding out of the class and he stands up as he sits for the onslaught of whatever interest you’ve found yourself enamored with today. That’s how it usually is, he meets you at the end of the day and the two of you walk to volleyball practice while you tell him what caught your interest that day.

Something is a little different this day though, besides the heat, you grab his hands and give him a wide smile. He can see and feel your excitement. “Rin! That new game…” he can’t listen to your statement when he keeps looking at your smile and feeling your hands in his. Suddenly the heat doesn’t feel as daunting, your hands make him far warmer than the heat ever has.

He nods his head along at your talking and makes no effort to hide that he’s looking at your lips. You start leading the both of you to the gym, swinging your arms as the excitement seems like it’s going to burst out of you. Suna’s quietness doesn’t set off any alarms as that’s how he usually is, you appreciate all of the comments he does make though.

All Suna is thinking about is how pretty you look with that smile on your face and how he can make you smile like that again. Yep…he’s doomed.

Osamu

When you made him lunch

Food is his love language (same)

It wasn’t a special day like his birthday or anything you just made him lunch

Friends since middle school bcs I said so <3

You found a new recipe you wanted to try and made him some too

Always thought you were cute but now he had to ask you out

Osamu loved food, that was a fact that everyone was very aware of. It didn’t matter what kind of food, he loved it. Loved the intricacies it took to make it. Loved the love that went into each dish. So the day that you come over to him with an extra box of food he gets excited. “Are you extra hungry today or something?” He asks as he closes his eyes and leans back slightly, arms behind his head.

“No idiot, this one's for you. I found a new recipe I wanted to try and you’re the only one I can con into eating it.” There’s a hint of uncertainty in your voice, like you’re nervous to have him try it. You know that the idea is stupid. It’s Osamu, he’s not going to be mean to you. You’re his friend. And you’re feeding him.

Although he hoped the food was for him the idea still makes his cheeks heat up a little bit. You went out of your way to make this for him? Oh, his heart is beating out of his chest now. That’s interesting. It’s only ever done that in your presence. And suddenly it all clicks to him. He likes you. He likes you and your food and how you want to share things with him. He’s always thought you were pretty but this? Yeah, he likes you. He’ll return the favor and make you food.

Tendo

When you started reading Shonen Jump bcs he said he liked it

Childhood friends, childhood friends, childhood friends, childhood friends <333

You were one of his first friends and while you didn’t go to Shiratorizawa still kept in touch and tried to visit him often

You guys would often have sleepovers during school breaks which is when he found the latest copy of Shonen Jump

The last thing Tendo was expecting to find over at your house was a copy of Shonen Jump. He had to do a double take when he saw the latest issue folded open on your bed. You didn’t think anything off it as you went to the bathroom to change out of your school clothes. It was usual for Tendo to stay with you during breaks from school, the two of you would cause a ruckus and then he would return to school after the break.

He headed over to the bed and picked up the copy. He flipped the pages and a confused look was on his face. Luckily you walked out of the bathroom in your freshly changed pajamas. “This for me?” He teases with a smile as he held the magazine up and waved it around.

“No, it’s mine. You can read it if you don’t have this weeks issue though. I only started reading them for you.” You…you were reading this for him? Why?

“Why?”

“Because you always talk about it with so much love. I guess I wanted to love what you did.” Easy, he loves you. What? He loves you? I mean maybe some part of him has loved you since you decided to become his friend when no one else would. He feels frozen as you pluck the magazine from his hand and poke him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly as you laugh at him and shake your head. Mhm. He loves you, he wants to love what you love too. Maybe that could be him…?

Ushijima

When you sat in silence with him to watch the sunset

You’ve known each other since high school but only started dating a few months ago

Something something feelings boiled over something something (thank Tendo)

Very blunt about it lol like tells you that he loves you

You’re watching the sunset and then all of a sudden he goes “I love you.” Like bro- give them a minute to think

Since confessing to Ushijima you can tell he’s made an effort to be more romantic. Planning dates every other week (difficult with your schedules but it’s nice to try), flowers for you on days where you have to cancel said dates. He’s taken to watching the sunset with you on days you both get home early enough.

He comes to your apartment and knocks on the door his hand making contact with the wood. When you open the door he can’t help the small, almost nonexistent, smile that comes to his face. He holds up the bag he got from the convenience store. “Sunset?” You nod and put your shoes on. You didn’t care to get dressed up. Mostly because Ushijima didn’t care, he thought you were beautiful either way.

There was a hill leading up to a forest behind your complex and the two of you would sit there for hours and talk while the sunset. Eating snacks and drinking sodapop, sometimes you would go to his house but the tradition was the same. The two of you had been doing this since your last year of high school. A way to get away from everything.

When your head leans against his shoulder the words fly out of his mouth and he doesn’t see a point in stopping them. “I love you.” He can hear the small laugh that comes from you.

“I love you too.” All feels right when you’re in his arms and the sunset is ahead of you. Everything feels right when he’s with you.

Iwaizumi

When he saw how you looked at him when he talks

Used to people wanting Oikawa

You’ve been with him since high school and didn’t disappear when Oikawa moved so he took that as a pretty good sign

Mattsun and Makki are actually the ones who pointed it out in a teasing way ofc lol

“Ugh- I’m sick of them looking at you like that.”

Very confused as they fake gag but have smiles on their faces and then he notices it. His brain stutters

Iwaizumi doesn’t know how he didn’t notice sooner. Didn’t see the look in your eyes when he was talking. He supposes he should thank Makki and Mattsun, for all their annoyance they were the reason he noticed to begin with. It started after you left the monthly get together, an attempt to stay connected after high school, and they were the only three left in the call.

“Ugh— they’re so love sick. I’m gonna barf. The way they look at you is so lovey dovey.” Mattsun fake gags but there’s a smile on his face and Iwaizumi knows that he’s just teasing.

“What are you talking about?” He asks as he takes a sip of his drink, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Bro…you haven’t noticed?” Makki laughs as he chimes in from the other end of the call. “When you start talking they get this lovesick look on their face and I swear they look at your lips when you talk.”

“No they don't, you're crazy.” He scoffs and shakes his head. That would be ridiculous. Did you really look at him like you love him?

He decides to test his theory the next time the two of you meet up. Every so often you’ll force him to go shopping with you to carry all of your bags. Iwaizumi like the lovesick fool he is agrees and goes with you without too much complaint.

“Oh something funny happened.” He starts and looks over at you, your gaze already on him. He doesn’t think much of it until he watches as your eyes flicker to his lips. The words in his throat getting caught as his tongue flicks out to lick his dried lips.

“What happened Haji?” You sounded so in love. Is that how he sounded when he talked to you? When he looks at you. He almost hopes he does. He wants to be in love with you and he wants you to be in love with him.

taglist (open, send an ask <3)

@akaakeis @causenessus @hiraethwa

stay a while why don't you? check out my other stuff

#tulip writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #ushijima x reader #tendo x reader #suna x reader #osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq x y/n

368 notes · View notes

nariism · 10 months

Text

ink to paper — k. ayato

mutual/oblivious pining + "don't look at me that way."

synopsis. yes, he thinks. what would he do without you? well, his schedule would be a mess, for one. and he wouldn't know how to cut bunny ears into his apples, either.

wc. ~1.2k

— for @kruinka and @ph-xntasy / @yuellii 🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

You've cut his apples into petit rabbits today.

The ink at the end of Ayato's brush has soaked through his page at least three times since he started scribing, big globs of black ruining what could have been a beautiful sequence. And the culprits for distracting him taunt him with their little red ears.

In fact, they've been sitting for so long that the flesh of the fruit is starting to brown. How long has he been unproductively glancing up and down between his paper and his breakfast?

He had told you that they were in season as a passing comment the last time he saw you—nothing more than a throwaway line to make conversation. Yet here you are, showing up at his table with a tray of his usual breakfast and something extra. Something hand-crafted and too cute for him to even fathom putting into his mouth.

It seemed that you had a special place in your memory for him. He could bring up the smallest wish and it would show up on his desk the next day.

It was your job to know him inside and out, after all. Your sole duty as his scheduler. Even so, you made time to do things outside of your job description if only to please him. You always looked so happy to see him, too. He's starting to wonder if you have a crush on him.

He glances at his clock. While he is busy with work, what harm would a few minutes do if he were to be a little distracted?

Kamisato Ayato cannot cook.

He remembers fondly the only time he had ever demonstrated his kitchen skills to you. After unpacking his favourite tempura from Uyuu restaurant, he proceeded to line the shrimp up on a plate and decorate it.

You found humour in his apparent lack of expertise in the kitchen, chalking it up to his spoiled upbringing. He hadn't believed you then, thinking that you were being too harsh as well as too distracted by the melody of your laugh to bother dwelling on it. But now he's here, trying to do something as simple as cutting apples and failing miserably.

What spurred him on to do this in the first place is beyond him. Maybe he thought that the smile on your face when you saw his efforts would be worth all the trouble, or perhaps he was seeking your approval since he admired your ever-growing list of skills.

From servant to sparring partner to cook to personal scheduler, you were quickly making yourself a regular part of his day. He envied your adaptability, having little opportunity as a noble to try.

He figured this would be a chance to start. To learn, if it were to make you happy or proud.

Oh dear. Who knew cutting apples was such a daunting task?

Ayato thought this would be simple—cut some apples into cute shapes, make you smile, perhaps keep you around a bit longer to discuss it than you would usually stay. (Lately, he's been craving to hear your voice more and more.)

But this blade is tiny, unlike his hefty sword. It's too nimble for his fingers, and he's sure he has nicked himself at least a dozen times by now.

If you were here, you'd probably scold him for being so careless. And you'd set aside time in your busy day to help him, he's sure. It's in your nature to be kind which makes him miss you all the more.

Just as he's about to give up and call it quits, the door slides open.

Archons. He's been so engrossed in his woes that he had forgotten it was almost time for your scheduled meeting to go over his other plans for the week.

The scraps of peel and sloppily shaped apple slices are so incriminating that he doesn't even bother hiding it. You both stare at each other from across the table, completely unblinking and still.

"Um..." You strain out, clearly attempting to hide your amusement. "Hello."

He coughs awkwardly, placing down the paring knife and trying to uphold as much dignity as he possibly can.

"Hello," he greets, unable to meet your gaze anymore. "My apologies. Our meeting slipped my mind."

You gently pluck a rabbit from the plate, rotating it around in your fingers to get a better look. They're sloppy, for sure, with jagged edges and tiny slits where you know his knife slipped. And they don't even resemble anything remotely close to rabbits in the first place, more like blocky V-shaped thingamabobs.

You glance up and down between the rabbit and the man behind it, who looks strangely flustered considering his usually calm temperament.

"Don't look at me that way," he says quietly, wooden end of the blade gently knocking against the table as he deflates.

"Are these... bunnies?" You ask him in bewilderment.

"They are... supposed to be rabbits, yes."

Complete silence fills the room until Ayato feels as if he can't breathe. Coupled with the way your eyes are scrutinizing his attempts, he wants nothing more than to melt away.

And then you laugh. You can't stop laughing, it seems. Doubled over onto the table and fighting for air between giggles.

He can't help the softening of his expression, the warmth in his chest. If this is all it took to get you to smile like that, then who cares how embarrassing it is that he can't even cut fruit correctly?

You round the table, plopping down next to him. Oh no. He can't control his racing heart when you're leaning in so close to him, so close that he can feel the rumble of your laughter in his own body.

With your shoulders pressed together, body resting comfortably against his, you take the blade and slice of apple from his hands.

"I'll show you how," you offer. He watches intently as you make the first shallow slits through the peel, then gently slide the knife across the top. Too busy admiring your skillful hands, he almost instantly blurts out:

"Can you please show me again?"

You look at him funny, brows pinched but a smile still seeping across your face. You show him another time, expertly cutting another slice. And another. And another.

Unconsciously, or perhaps following the quiet voice in his heart, his head falls atop yours. You sink into him, allowing him to rest against you without complaint.

"Hm, am I your personal comforter now?"

"I suppose you are."

"You know, if you actually pay attention you might be able to make your own breakfast."

"Mm..." He hums when your hands don't stop moving despite your words. Instead, you laugh again. And again, there's the ever familiar thrum of his heart.

"Oh, dear Commissioner. What would you do without me?"

Yes, he thinks. What would he do without you?

Well, his schedule would be a mess, for one. He's far too busy to keep track of it all on top of his other work. And he wouldn't know how to cut bunny ears into his apples, either.

He would rather you keep him company anyway, bunnies and all.

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gn reader #kamisato ayato #ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #genshin ayato #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #ayato x gender neutral reader #ayato x gn reader #genshin fic #genshin drabbles

876 notes · View notes

soapoet · 11 months

Text

Your first kiss with them

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

You very well may have felt this one coming long before it actually does. There is a sense of pieces falling into place as you had forseen. For some, you may have thought about this often, consciously or not manifesting it into your reality. Still, it feels special and somehow out of the blue. Despite scripting the perfect scene you are still in for the unexpected. Like a director watching the actor go off script with a strike of genius, giving an award winning performance worthy of applause.

There could be miscommunication receiving clarity prior to this kiss. It is possible one or both of you spend some time catastrophising words spoken previously and in the time spent apart a mountain is truly made from a molehill in your head. It may take quite a bit of courage to bring this to the table, but it is so very worth it in the end. It seems almost as if this obstacle is what clears not just the air of concern about the matter itself but the tension overall as well. Your person is hit quite hard by the revelation of having in some way hurt you unintentionally, and as they apologise for their trespasses against you they find it necessary to come clean about how it is that they truly feel about you, which may come as a surprise to you even if you already had your suspicions. They speak to you so earnestly, opening their heart and mind up like a book that appeared glued shut for so long. You may even go off script yourself. Having daydreamed and rehearsed this moment, you may stray from the practiced shock and awe and simply accept their feelings and show that you knew all along. Which could be to their horror as they were certain they had their feelings under lock and key.

Their prior stoicism and the austere walls built tall and daunting finally come down to let you in. They will ask to borrow your time outside their obligations. For many, you'll be taken by hand for a walk, or simply away from prying eyes for a moment of privacy. They seem concerned about your comfort, and it's possible this occurs late, outside, in chilly weather wherein you are left shivering, though telling them it's fine. I see biting cold winds and your hand in theirs. I'll be honest, much of this conversation feels like a job interview as they gauge your compatibility. They may ask major questions right away such as your wishes regarding children and marriage, and expressing theirs. The conclusion is that you are compatible at your core values despite being so different otherwise.

This first kiss is contrasted by the cold, like a home and hearth amidst the snow. Often we think of cinematic kisses as the rest of the world fading away to make room for the lovers, but in this instance it seems more like the lovers merge and blur into their environment. As an onlooker, it's akin to a mirage. Two figures under a streetlight, there in one moment and gone in the next. It feels like two previously disturbed souls at peace, finding home at last.

Additional details: hair dye, boundaries, text messages and phone calls, nostalgia, snow and rain, flowers (roses and lilies specifically), shoelaces, caffeine, napkins, gifts, disney, mental health, addiction, breakups, stress, muscle cramps, insomnia, fairy lights, dancing, candles, blue eyes, 4AM, winter and late autumn, short trips, playlists, lip gloss, hiking trails.

02.

There is a distance which sometimes feels larger than it really is. For some this is moreso an emotional distance, but for many, this is a physical distance between you and your person. It seems that even the construction of the foundation had a steep price of time, and building upon this connection was a steady, albeit slow, progress. Some days you may have felt silly, wasting precious time and your youth on potential rather than promise, but you stuck it out and found that many of the things you so often thought were only in your head were true after all, and your feelings were mutual all along.

This distance, be it physical or otherwise through hectic and uncooperative schedules and poor timing, feels frustrating for a while. Yet the two of you stay strong and carry on trudging through the uncertainties and overcoming obstacles. The time spent on laying a stable foundation of sincere friendship pays off here as you both remain patient and faithful, and manage to work things out in your favour.

There is much anticipation going into this. For those of you for whom this is a long distance relationship, this first kiss occurs upon the very first meeting. Could be at an airport, train station, or some other mode of transportation. For those of whom this is merely an emotional distance or unfavourable schedules, this occurs at the very first meeting after agreeing to take the next step in the relationship from friends to something more. Commitment is very sure and stable, and you feel at peace knowing there is no rug beneath your feet for you to worry about being pulled, but strong and solid rock that will not crumble. A lot of messages and calls are exchanged, and you both feel as though you're a part of each other's day to day as if you've lived together for years. And thus, this first kiss may feel a little like making up for lost time, as though it's a formality that must be checked off the list as mentally and emotionally you are so much further along in the relationship than you are physically and must play catch-up.

Though it feels rushed, it's exactly as giddy and exciting as you had always hoped it would be. A warm embrace and a sense of relief, both filled to the brim with excitement to finally be in such close proximity and have the time and space to enjoy each other's company fully and undisturbed. A hug quickly turns to a kiss, and two and three and four. It is simultaneously bashful and bold, nervous and full of glee. A poor attempt at maintaining a balance between remaining calm and being chill, and the inability to keep your hands off of each other. Regardless how busy the environment, nothing else seems to matter than the two of you. Hustle and bustle, noise and people rushing here and there, with the two of you amidst it all in your own bubble of stillness.

Additional detail: linguistics, green, crochet, painting, singing, mozzarella, long hair, winter coat, autumn, pumpkins, cardamom, children, sleepovers, astrology, witches and wizards, cats and felines in general, politics, psychology, scrapbooks, baking, bills, anime, youtube, video games, typing, cars, small apartment, herbs and spices, nutrition, skincare.

03.

This scenario feels the most outright romantic and purposeful. There is something so very classic about this situation altogether, as though it is here to prove courtship and chivalry are both alive and well in this era. And yet, it feels new and refreshing, like the romance novels of old received a brand new cover and a modern twist. The courtship feels meticulous, but not uptight or strained. There is a lot of ease and wind in the hair you're able to let down after a stressful period. For many this may occur some time after a breakup or another interpersonal relationship which comes to an end and you find yourself ready to accept suitors again, or pursue them yourself, or simply putting yourself out there, so to speak.

These new winds in your sail may feel different even solely by the way in which this circumstance comes about. Your person could be quite bold, or direct in a way you haven't experienced before. They make their intentions clear and allow you to call the shots and make the decision as to whether you'll take their hand and let them lead you on a brand new adventure, or simply choose to not get involved. This prospect is alluring to you especially if you have felt previously you have waited for initiative to be taken without having to ask, always feeling as though nothing gets done unless you serve as the taskmaster.

Many of you could meet, or agree to go on a date, somewhere quite public and loud. A gathering of sorts, like a concert, party, or other lively event with plenty of eyes. There likely is an element in which these many pairs of eyes play a role, and I won't lie, the two of you may garner some attention and whispers amongst the crowd or people the two of you know. This doesn't appear to faze either of you, as there seems to be a good balance of public displays of affection and clarity that the two of you are indeed out and about together, and also spending time talking just the two of you, so gossip can travel without your care or concern, and the two of you could even enjoy the attention and the speculations, especially ruffled feathers of the few envious pairs of eyes.

Things seem lighthearted on the outside, but have more purpose behind closed doors, and you may discuss dreams and the future, expectations and plans, very early on. Though you're out proudly prancing in the sun together, it is not until it sets and you have the privacy of the dark between just the two of you that a first kiss is shared. It is sweet and gentle, but bubbles with unexpected chemistry. It's possible that something about this is very new to both of you. You could come from different backgrounds, cultures, or seemingly different worlds, or perhaps you are not their usual type or vice versa, yet it works somehow, and feels quite exciting and magical. There is a lot of security here, and a mutual understanding of what you both wish for the future to hold. Agreeing to take things one step at a time and look out for one another to make sure you both move towards the future in union, always on the same page, and have each other to lean on in case the going gets rough. There is a lot of passion here and it shows the most in your privately shared moments, though many may doubt what could possibly come of you two. It seems the unexpected seems the most stable experience yet for both of you.

Additional details: dinner dates, pumpkin patches, Charlie Brown, acoustic guitars, birthdays, calendars, live music, handwritten notes, bouquets, cinema, popcorn, red, meeting the parents, karaoke and singing in general, dancing, swimming pools, sports, motorcycles, muscle cars, brown hair, cuddling, smiles, archery, airplanes.

#pac reading #energy reading #intuitive reading #pick a card #tarot reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarotblr #love pac #soapy.post

955 notes · View notes