#little mix low quality

[hassianlovebot]

i know the rare and epic bugs are supposed to be yknow,, rare and epic so it wouldn't make sense if they spawned all the time. that being said, it's bad enough that the game has time limits on certain bugs, adding super low spawn rates just makes it worse. imo players should never feel like they have to spend hours playing to catch one bug

[stylescami94]

sigueme en wattpad rckrbells / follow me on wattpad rckrbells

[lavendeerknight]

Bane Perez Identity V Art

Slowly I’ll begin posting over my art to Tumblr, so I’ll start with Bane! I did quite a lot of him over this year and the last 😅

When I saw the Nymph Awards artwork had the characters in fancy dress, I knew I needed to edit Bane into it 😭

This one was for Homestuck day...

These next few ones are part of a series of drawings I attempted to do daily in May! I got hit by artblock halfway through, though...

Day 1 I decided to draw him while complying more to his canon design

Day 2 I did him as a noir movie style detective 

Day 3 I decided to draw my old sona and Bane looking at a Taintacle from the Thaumcraft mod, because I had been playing the Brightfall modpack at the time 😅

 Day 4 I mixed a visual novel screenshot style with the IDV manor diary text style

For day 7 I drew him playing the violin! I like to think either Burke taught him or he taught Burke

Day 8 I drew him as a skateboarder because why not

Day 9 I drew an Icon of him to use for a Bane themed bot I run 🥺

Day 10 happened to fall on both Maid Day and Aesop’s birthday, so I drew both of them in suitvests... This also happened to be the last day I made, as the artblock had set in 😔

Victor having one-sided feelings for Bane is a very funny concept and I need y’all to see the vision

And this one, which was based on a trend in the JPN Bane fan twitter where you would draw Bane with increasing detail

[heyjudeb]

I'm proud of you - Jude Bellingham

Summary: Comforting sad and defeated Jude after England's loss. Warning: Sad moment, comforting Words: <1k

The referee blows the final whistle.

It was over. England lost. It all happened too quickly. Spain scoring in the last minutes didn't even give us time to process the situation.

I was sitting in the stands with Jude's family. We all shed a tear once the Spanish players started celebrating. Seeing Jude go off to the bench and kick something was a heartbreaking yet scary sight for me. Instantly, I knew that was going to be a sight for the media.

He's not like that at all. He just really wanted this win. With people being all over him, critiquing him, he really wanted to prove them wrong, to make England proud. I couldn't be more proud of him, though. He achieved amazing things in this competition.

As I watched him from afar, I wished I could just run down and hold him, tell him it was okay. I knew how much he had invested in this tournament, how much he had sacrificed. His dedication and his passio were the qualities that made him extraordinary. Those were the reasons why I fell in love with him.

Feeling an overwhelming urge to be closer to him, I excused myself from his family and made my way down to the lower stands, closer to the field. As I approached the edge, I saw Jude pacing back and forth, his frustration evident in every step. When he finally noticed me, our eyes locked. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over.

With his help, I crossed the barrier and immediately fell into his arms, holding his head tightly into my neck. I could feel him shaking from all the emotions he was going through.

"I messed up," he muttered, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"No, you didn't," I said firmly, my hand gently running through his hair. "You were incredible, baby. You gave it your all." He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't enough. It wasn't fucking enough." "Hey," I cupped his face gently, putting my forehead against his. "Listen to me. You were amazing out there. You fought so hard, and everyone saw it."

He didn't know what to say. I could see he wanted to let go of everything he was feeling, but the words wouldn't come.

"Just stay calm, baby," I tried to comfort him, reminding him that losing is part of the game and keeping his composure is important. "You can use this to come back even stronger."

I knew my words might not have a big impact on him in that moment. It was all still raw and fresh for him, so I simply held him tighter in my arms. He pulled back slightly, his eyes still glistening. "I have to go, baby. They're going to do the ceremony."

"I know," I said softly. He kissed my forehead.

"I'll meet you afterwards," I told him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He nodded, giving me one last look before turning and walking towards his teammates. As I walked up the stands to where his family was, I felt a mix of pride and heartache.

After England had their moment, Jude walked up to us and hugged his family. They all expressed how proud they were of him, trying not to show any sadness in front of him.

He sat down with his head low. I gently lifted his chin, earning a small, faint smile from him.

"I'm sorry for disappointing you guys," he managed to say to them.

I sat on his lap, holding him close to my chest. It pained me to see him like this, unable to erase his sadness.

"You never disappoint us, Jude," his mom reassured him, holding his hand tightly.

I arrived at my hotel room feeling exhausted and heartbroken for Jude. He had to return to the hotel with the team. There was nothing I wanted more than to have him in my arms and try to ease his sadness, even just a little. I was about to get into bed after finishing my nighttime routine when I heard a faint knock on the door. I opened it to find Jude standing there, his shoulders slumped and a tired look on his face. "They told me it's okay," he said quickly, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bed.

He took off his shirt and sweatpants and collapsed onto the bed, pulling me with him. His head immediately rested on my chest as he hugged me tightly.

"It's going to be okay, baby," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his head and kissing his forehead repeatedly. "These bad feelings will pass, trust me."

I ran my fingers through his hair, knowing it helped him relax and fall asleep. I kept kissing his forehead and cuddling him until I felt his grip around my waist loosen slightly, indicating he had fallen asleep.

"You'll always be my champion, baby," I whispered softly." I love you so much, Jude Bellingham."

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 ♡︎

characters: sub!gallagher x nb!dom!reader

warnings: usage of aphrodisiacs, exhibitionism, slight dumbification, thigh riding, dry humping, begging, cumming untouched, gallagher being an old man loser, just a mini drabble guys. nothing big (i say as i write down 1,7K words)

notes: @lufenianwol you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me gallagher’s leaked idle animation didn’t you, you gayyyy🫵🏳️‍🌈 (im gay too😔)

sigh…

another day, another long work of hunting down criminals or outlaws who came to penacony uninvited and detaining them. the most time gallagher could ever get to de-stress were behind the bars, mixing up a drink his customers asked for or when with you. you were a fellow bloodhound, a high ranking one too, so never had enough time to spend some quality time with your tired lover.

but today, you wanted to be a little mischievous. and what was that on your mind? you slipped just a teeny weeny bit of aphrodisiacs into his usual alcohol in his personal flask of course! just a little. maybe a pinch or two. a bit of a sprinkle of magic as a gift.

or maybe even a whole mini bottle. but you won’t say it until your tired lover comes crawling over to you, huffing and puffing, whining whimpering as he begs for your help at “restocking” some of the alcohol at the backrooms.

at the other end of the bar, you watch with a barely hidden smirk whenever your lover takes a sip from his personal flask during his break times. each time he does, getting more and more intoxicated in the taste. you purposely chose one that tasted delicious and soft on the tongue, a way to reward him for his hard work of running after criminals and preparing him for what was about to happen.

he started out strong, as expected of a bloodhound officer. barely felt it, focusing on work, wiping a glass or two, mixing up a drink. but the more he drank from his flask, the more you noticed it. the little stuttering over his words, the slight flush in his cheeks, the jumpy way he reacted whenever you passed by him with a hand on his waist or lower back. that bulge in his pants. that damn delicious bulge that you love to bully.

shaking your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you focus back on work to wipe the bar clean and serve the customers drinks and desserts of their liking. you and gallaher were a good pair to serve amazing cocktails after all.

finally, the rush hour had ended, meaning fewer customers. the fewer there are, the more noticeable gallagher’s show of being affected by the little sprinkle of magic became. at first, he tried to play things off as signs of cold, or just the warm and low lighting of the bar being the reason his cheeks are pink. hell, he even coughed a few times to make his act believable. believable to the nosy customers but never to you.

“[n-name]…” the man barely manages to muffle his whimper when calling out your name, low lidded eyes, hazy vision and slightly shaky hand tugging on your necktie. you hum, turning to him with a raised brow as if you weren’t the reason behind this panting mess in front of you.

“yeah? what’s up?” you ask, putting down the bottle on where it’s supposed to be as your hands come to rest on his waist. the rush hour just ended, the bar still had a few customers but they were either too drunk to care nor engrossed in their own sob life stories to share you two a glance. and gallagher was damn glad for it too.

“w-we, ahem, need to head to the backrooms. we’re running out of some beers and fizzy drinks in the fridge” he quickly clears his throat, hoping that no one had caught onto his little stuttering. you did, of course. you would catch onto anything your lover says or does. even the tiniest things. such as how he was trying to make it seem like an innocent half-hug when you could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he pushes his crotch against yours, hoping to conceal it while also giving you a little heads-up.

as if you needed the heads-up.

“alright. you can go first, i’ll come after you once i wipe my hands” you nod your head, watching as your lover disappears behind the door with a sign that read “staff only”. it was cute how gallagher was so trusting of you, never even thought for a moment how you could have been the one to drug his flask of alcohol. though, judging from his cloudy eyes and stuttering, you could guess that he could barely even think to begin with. how adorable of him.

soon enough, you follow after the steps of your lover, walking into the “staff only” part of the bar and later onto the door with the sign “backrooms”. the pretty decent sized dark room where the bar keeps their ingredients and drinks. the same exact room where your lover pushes you against the wall the moment you entered, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your button down shirt as he humps his hardened cock against your crotch.

“woah woah, puppy. easy now. what’s going on? i thought we needed to restock on our drinks?” you ask, feigning innocence as your hands rest over gallagher’s shaky ones, stopping his fumbling and managing to catch his attention for a minute. he looked so dumbfounded. bottom lip on the brink of bleeding due to his chewing, panting, cheeks flushed a pretty red as his dilated eyes try to focus on you. you swore he looked like he was almost on the brink of crying with how damn pathetic he looked.

“c-can’t… [name], please, help me… ‘s so hot, tight. stupid pants mmngh!” gallagher only moans, tripping over his own words in a jumbled mess as he tries to find some sort of relief for his poor aching cock. looking down, you could briefly make out a dark small patch at the front of his pants. he was so drugged that he couldn’t even tell that he was staining his own clothes with his precum. so cute.

you only hum in response, not bothering to do as he pleads as your hands rest on the fat of his ass, massaging them gently. he only whines, slurred words of how he wanted your hands on his cock falling out as he squirms in your hold. lowering yourselves down to the floor of the room, you shift gallagher on top of you to ride your thigh instead. flexing the muscles in them to make it easier for him as he whimpers at the feeling.

immediately, the man started to hump your thigh. salacious mewls falling out of his lips as he doesn’t even try to silence his loud noises, only dumbly trying to relieve himself as he rubs his clothed cock on your thigh. you could see the dark patch in his pants getting bigger, darker the more he rides your thigh. if he had his dick out, he would probably leave a mess all over your clothes.

“shh shh, puppy. the door isn’t locked, remember?” you chuckle, reminding him of where the two of you were getting naughty at. it was so cute to see his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. more specifically, whenever you called him puppy. he really did lived up to that nickname, looking like a cute pup as he bites down on his lip.

one of your hands travel up to his chest, opting to play with his perky nipple as he let out a loud squeal at that. his chest was always so sensitive, making him let out the most delicious whimpers each time you roll, pinch or tug at the hardened nub. being so mean to not slip your hands under the opening of his button down shirt at the front, playing with his nipples over the harsh fabrics of his clothes instead. he just wanted your touch on him to relieve the ache pooling in his belly, would you be so mean to deny him of his wishes?

apparently, you would. the hand on the soft fat of his ass moving to rest over his hip, helping him hump his cock on your thigh as your other hand continue their brutal assaults on his chest. poor gallagher, can't even form a single word as his pleads fall out of his swollen lips in a jumbled heap of mess. you could barely make out your own name from it. the words sounding so muddled up as if the bloodhound officer couldn't tell the difference between reality and his drug induced feelings.

"[n-naaammmeee]... sniff pleasheee fuunnghh fucck!! p-pleashh pleaash pleeaasshee♡︎!! ungh!! guuunnhg♥︎♥︎! p-pretty pleaaseee♡︎?" gallagher whines helplessly, stuffing his flushed face into the crook of your neck as his movements become more sloppy and frantic. he was so close to cumming already, it was just so cute to see how easily someone who is apparently always in control to crumble over with just a little bit of thigh riding. and some sprinkle of magic added to the mix.

in an attempt to muffle his loud moans and stuttering of his breath, he hastily lowers the collar of your own button down shirt just a little bit more. just enough so he could bite down over the old, healing bite mark of his so he could attempt to muffle his pathetic noises. you only coo out in a mocking tone, calling him by that nickname again as you tug on his nipple through his shirt as debouched cries of your name falls from his lips over and over like a mantra. gallagher sounded like one of those old, broken down radios that only replay a single song that sometimes is in the bar.

with a final thrust and a meek little bounce on your thigh, gallagher releases into his clothes. the magenta red hue of his pants turning a darker shade as his cum pools into the materials of his pants, staining it as some of the translucent liquid drips down onto your pants. you could just wash them out later.

"done with your little show, puppy?" you ask, the hand on his hip squeezing a bit to snap him out of his hazy mind. instead, you got a shake of his head, his stubble lightly tickling the skin of your neck in the process.

"wan' more... wan' you♥︎" he mumbles, delirious and drooling, as he humps his still hard cock against your crotch, indicating what he craved so desperately. maybe next time you should check the dosage you put into his drink if he's gonna be drugged this heavily by such a small amount.

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings!

Send us requests in our inbox if the mood strikes you

WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[pretzel-box]

if you are still taking requests could you do the opposite spin off where we the experiment like Sebastian of having a shop as for Sebastian being a prisoner who enters the reader shop?

Payment recieved

Words: 1k

Tags: Reversed roles, inhuman reader, human!sebastian, slight fluff, sebastian is still grumpy

authors note: Wrote it on my phone! This was actually requested by two people so I finished it now.

"How much?" Sebastian glanced up at you, his face a mix of exhaustion and relief. Your eyes followed his gaze, realizing he was referring to the jacket you were wearing. It was a brown leather jacket lined with cozy alpaca fur, keeping you warm ever since your body had stopped producing its own heat. The jacket wasn’t particularly important, but you enjoyed the comfort it provided.

You had known Sebastian for a while; he always wore a grumpy expression and often greeted you with sarcasm when he entered your shop. "How much?" he repeated, this time with a hint of impatience.

You blinked, scratching behind your ear fins with a free hand, and smirked. "600 and a smile."

Sebastian hesitated, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. He was used to bartering, haggling, and the occasional hostile negotiation with you, but this was different. A smile? That was new.

“600 and a smile?” he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. His usual grumpy demeanor was momentarily replaced by confusion, as if trying to gauge whether you were joking or just odd. He looked at you closely, taking in your strange, inhuman features—the ear fins, the scaled texture of your skin, and the way your eyes seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the shop. Despite your otherworldly appearance, there was something oddly comforting about you, something that made him relax just a little in your presence.

You nodded, your smile widening just a bit. “That’s right. A fair trade, don’t you think?” Your voice was light, almost playful, as if challenging him to go along with your terms. You tilted your head, the movement causing the fins on the sides of your head to twitch slightly.

Sebastian frowned, glancing down at the jacket again. It wasn’t just that he needed it—the halls of this facility were unforgiving, and his own clothes were worn thin from constant wear. It was more than that, though. This jacket seemed different, not just because of its quality, but because it was yours. He knew you valued it, even if you pretended otherwise.

But a smile? It was a strange request, one that felt more personal than the usual business interactions he was accustomed to. Sebastian wasn’t exactly known for his cheerful disposition, and smiling wasn’t something that came naturally to him. He was a man of few words and fewer expressions, and the idea of smiling just to get a jacket felt… uncomfortable.

He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” His tone was less accusatory and more resigned, as if he knew he was about to lose a game he never intended to play.

You simply shrugged, leaning casually against the counter, your eyes never leaving his. “Completely serious. You want the jacket, right? Well, I want to see that grumpy face of yours break into a smile. It’s not every day I get to see something so rare.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, but there was no real malice in his gaze. It was a challenge, one that poked at the walls he’d built around himself. He could just walk away, keep his pride intact, and find another way to stay warm. But something in your relaxed, confident demeanor made him hesitate.

Finally, he let out a low grunt, something halfway between annoyance and reluctant acceptance. “Fine. If it means getting this jacket, then fine.” He looked down, taking a deep breath as if preparing himself for an ordeal.

Then,slowly and awkwardly, he tried to smile, hoping it was enough.

It wasn’t much—more of a twitch at the corners of his mouth than an actual smile, and his eyes remained as stoic as ever. But there was an effort, a hint of something softer beneath the layers of his usual gruffness. It was brief, almost too brief to notice, but it was there.

You watched him with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, your own smile widening in response. You would never say it but his smile made your heart skip a beat. “Not bad, Sebastian. Not bad at all.”

Sebastian’s face quickly returned to its usual neutral expression, though a faint flush colored his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Just give me the jacket.” He stretched out his hand, wanting you to hurry up already.

You chuckled softly, unzipping the jacket and sliding it off your shoulders. The cold immediately hit your skin, but you barely noticed, more focused on the small victory you’d just won. You handed the jacket to him, your hand brushing against his as he took it.

“Take care of it,” you said lightly, but there was a sincerity in your tone that made Sebastian pause. “It’s seen a lot, that jacket. It deserves someone who’ll appreciate it.” It was one of your last personal items you owned.

Sebastian nodded, slipping the jacket on. It fit him well, and the warmth was immediate, enveloping him in a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. He looked at you, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t used to kindness, especially not in a place like this, and the way you treated him—like an old friend rather than just another customer—left him feeling off balance.

“Thanks,” he muttered, pulling the collar up to shield his neck from the chill.

“Anytime,” you replied, your smile still lingering as you watched him turn to leave. “And don’t be a stranger, Sebastian. My shop’s always open.”

As he walked out into the dimly lit corridor, the warmth of the jacket spreading through his body, Sebastian found himself thinking about that brief, awkward smile. In the end it was more than worth it because he was warm and he knew basked in the slight confort that it gave him. The smell of your scent going up his nose, making him feel grateful for your presence. With that, he crawled through the vent with your image in his mind.

“YOU FORGOT THE KEYCARD, SUNSHINE!”

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

"Undress me, caress me...I just want you to fuck me"-!? ₊ ⊹ ꩜

synopsis: multiple excerpt quotes from Sylus + specific scenarios to go with!

tags: teasing, choking, possessiveness, riding, pet names, size kink, vulgar and explicit language, pure smut, slight dialogue spoilers(?)

wrd cnt: 0.5k

a/n: my L&DS debut!!! Okay...So i've been playing for a bit now (very low level ) but I've been gathering lots of thoughts based on my interacts with Sylus now that I finally unlocked him and l've got some to share hehe

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐀𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬' 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?”

There’s not much more than a handful of weaknesses in Sylus. But you know exactly how easy it is to get your way with your lips to his neck. It seems to good to be true, how easily he falters when you jump into his embrace, letting him lift you up to his height in order to give yourself easy access to plant kisses onto the side of his exposed neck. Give him hickies while making out and he’s a dog for you.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟”

He just looks for excuses to punish you. To bend you over his lap and make you count each time he lands a full smack on your ass, to make you sit still while you cockwarm him or he’s going to bed and leaving you untouched, to use his fingers and nothing else til you apologize grandiosely like the mewling kitten he loves to see you as.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫…𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩? 𝐘𝐞𝐬? 𝐍𝐨? 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨?”

He can’t lie, well, he can actually…but he can’t deny that he loves to see your little face all flustered, the red hues painting your face, licking up the sweat dripping down your chest when you ride him; desperately rutting against him as sinful noises of skin slapping fill your senses. Almost loud enough to drown out his insinuating laughter, going on about how cute his sweetie is trying her best to please him. You really won’t need to try too hard.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 ���𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠”

Oh he’s possessive. Hands all over you, standing so close and never allowing you to feel lonely. His love language is a mix of quality time and physical touch. Cuddling is always a great time for you two to bond. He loves to feel your soft breathe hit the pillow as his hand rests on your hip, rubbing your skin up and down from your waist to the side of you leg while his face is resting atop of your hair, getting high off your scent.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰…𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲.”

One thing about Sylus is he’s going to make you look at him. Eye contact is a language in itself. It’s especially fun for him to look into your eyes when he has you on your back, legs already spread and inviting him to pump his thick cock inside you for another hour if need be. His large, veiny hand held your neck in place with enough pressure to make you feel like you were levitating. His fiery red stare put you into a trace, eyes and body both engulfing you into him, all while he’s inside you.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[pin-k-ink]

imagine grinding on hoshina’s thighs or abs. Like bros muscular and he’ll be so mean and would tease u about it

fragment // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ bratty!reader, mentions of a quickie, mentions of shower sex, biting, teasing, orgasm denial, hoshina is mean, panties as a gag, thigh riding, squirting, dirty talking, name calling/degradation, power imbalance, spanking, manhandling

wc ⇢ 3.9k

a/n: holy shit this was just pure filth 💀

The soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across Hoshina's office, illuminating the seemingly endless stack of papers before him. He sighed, running a hand through his violet hair, disheveling it further. A glance at the clock confirmed what his aching back had been telling him - he'd been at this for hours. The night had long since fallen, and the muffled sounds of the Third Division's nocturnal activities filtered through his closed door, a stark reminder of the world beyond his paperwork-laden desk.

"Shoulda known Ashiro would pull somethin' like this," Soshiro muttered, his kansai dialect thickening with fatigue. Captain Ashiro's abrupt departure for an emergency meeting had left him drowning in administrative tasks, each form and report more mind-numbing than the last. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had settled there like a lead weight. His fingers, stained with ink and cramping from hours of writing, reached for yet another document from the towering pile.

As he began to read through the report, Soshiro's mind wandered unbidden to more pleasant thoughts. Specifically, to you - his girlfriend, his unexpected ray of sunshine in the often grim world of the Defense Force. A small smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the last time he properly made love to you, nearly a week ago now. Work had been relentless since then, leaving little time for anything beyond stolen kisses and brief embraces. This morning's quickie in the shower, while invigorating, had done little to sate the growing hunger he felt for your touch.

The soft click of the door opening pulled Soshiro from his musings. Your familiar scent - a mix of vanilla and something uniquely you - wafted through the air, causing his heart to skip a beat. He looked up, his tired eyes drinking in the sight of you standing in the doorway. The hallway light silhouetted your figure, highlighting the curves that your uniform usually concealed. Soshiro felt his mouth go dry, his body responding to your presence even as his mind struggled to focus on the task at hand.

"Soshiro," you called softly, your voice a melodic contrast to the silence of the office. "Are you still working?" There was a hint of something in your tone - disappointment, perhaps, or frustration - that made Soshiro's chest tighten with guilt.

He watched as you stepped into the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click that seemed to seal you both away from the rest of the world. Your movements were deliberate, almost predatory, as you approached his desk. Soshiro couldn't help but be reminded of a lioness stalking her prey, and he wasn't entirely sure he minded being caught.

"'Fraid so, darlin'," he replied, his voice low and tinged with regret. "Got a mountain of paperwork that ain't gonna finish itself." Even as the words left his mouth, Soshiro felt a pang of longing. He wanted nothing more than to abandon his work and lose himself in you, but duty weighed heavily on his shoulders.

You reached his desk, your fingers trailing along the polished wood grain. Soshiro's eyes followed the movement, mesmerized by the play of light on your skin. When you spoke again, your voice had taken on a sultry quality that sent shivers down his spine.

"But Soshiro," you purred, leaning over his desk in a way that gave him a tantalizing view, "don't you think you deserve a little break? After all, you've been working so hard."

Soshiro swallowed hard, his eyes inadvertently drawn to the way your shirt strained across your chest as you leaned forward. The memory of your shared shower that morning flashed vividly in his mind - the taste of your lips, the feel of your body pressed against his, the sweet noises you made when he slipped his fingers inside you. The tightness in his pants increased, and he shifted uncomfortably. He knew it hadn't been enough, not for either of you, but especially not for your seemingly insatiable appetite.

"Ya know I can't, sweetheart," he managed, his voice rougher than he intended. "This needs to be done by mornin'." Even as he spoke, Soshiro's body betrayed him, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

You huffed, a pout forming on your lips that Soshiro found both adorable and dangerously tempting. "But 'Shiro," you whined, using the pet name you knew he couldn't resist, "I've barely seen you all week. This morning was nice, but..." You trailed off, your eyes dark with unspoken desire.

Soshiro's pen creaked in his grip as he fought to maintain his composure. "I know, darlin'," he said, his tone a mixture of apology and firmness. "But ya know how important this is. I can't just leave it unfinished."

For a moment, you seemed to relent, straightening up with a sigh. "Fine," you said, a hint of mischief in your tone that Soshiro knew all too well. "I guess I'll just have to find some other way to pass the time."

Soshiro watched warily as you sauntered around his desk, your hips swaying in a way that drew his gaze like a magnet. He forced his attention back to the papers before him, trying desperately to focus on the words that now seemed to blur together. The heat of your body radiated against his back as you moved behind him, ostensibly to look at the work over his shoulder.

"My, my," you murmured, your breath hot against his ear. "This does look important. No wonder you can't tear yourself away."

Soshiro's entire body tensed, anticipation thrumming through him. He knew you were up to something, could feel it in the way you leaned closer, your breasts pressing against his back. Just as he opened his mouth to warn you off, he felt the soft brush of your lips against the sensitive skin of his neck.

A shiver ran down his spine, his body responding traitorously to your touch despite his best efforts to remain focused. Your lips traced a burning path along the column of his throat, each kiss sending sparks of electricity through his nerves.

"[Y/N]," he growled, his voice low and strained. "Ya're playin' with fire here." It was a warning, but even to his own ears, it sounded more like a plea.

Your only response was to nip gently at his earlobe, your hands sliding down his chest in a caress that left him breathless. Soshiro's grip on his pen tightened to the point of pain, the only thing anchoring him to his resolve as it rapidly crumbled under your ministrations.

Soshiro remained still, his jaw clenched as he tried to focus on the paperwork before him. Your whispers in his ear and your hands on his chest were severely testing his resolve. He gripped his pen tightly, forcing himself to read the same line over and over, though the words refused to register in his mind.

Suddenly, your hand began to drift lower, and your voice took on a more provocative tone. "You know, if you're too busy, maybe I'll just have to take care of myself..."

In an instant, Soshiro's composure shattered. His hand shot out, grasping your wrist firmly as he tugged you forward harshly to face him. His eyes, usually half-lidded or closed, were now wide and blazing with a mixture of anger and something darker.

"What did ya just say?" he growled, his accent thickening with emotion.

You froze, realizing you'd crossed a line. The playful glint in your eyes dimmed as you met Soshiro's intense gaze. You knew that playing with yourself was strictly off-limits without his permission - a rule he'd made clear early in your relationship.

"I... I didn't mean..." you stammered, but Soshiro cut you off with a sharp look.

"Ya know better than that, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I've told ya before, ya don't touch yerself without my say-so."

The tension in the room was palpable as you stood there, caught in Soshiro's grip and pinned by his gaze. You'd pushed too far, and now you were facing the consequences of your actions.

Soshiro's grip on your wrist tightened, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous, laced with a fury you'd rarely heard from him.

"Ya think ya're bein' cute, don't ya?" he growled, his voice dropping an octave lower. "Pushin' my buttons like that. Well, let me make this real clear for ya, darlin'. Ya've got two choices, and ya better choose wisely."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Ya can either get yer ass to our room right now and wait for me there, or ya can plant yerself in my lap and not make a sound until I'm done. Either way, ya're in for it when I'm finished."

Soshiro's eyes bore into yours, challenging you to defy him further. "So what's it gonna be? Choose now, before I make the choice for ya."

The intensity of his gaze and the huskiness of his voice sent a thrill of arousal through you. You knew you'd pushed too far, and his anger had only served to fuel your desire.

Your voice was barely a whisper when you spoke. "Please, Soshiro, I'll be good, I promise. I'm sorry I-"

"I said, choose. Now."

The command in his voice brooked no argument.

You hesitated for a split second, before giving in. "Lap," you whispered.

Soshiro's mouth twitched slightly at your decision, but he gave no other sign of approval. Without a word, he tugged you closer, forcing you to straddle his lap. The pressure of his hardened cock against your core had you gasping, and he hadn't even begun to touch you yet.

"I want ya to remember this," Soshiro murmured, his voice low and husky. "I want ya to remember how badly ya pushed me. How easily I could've put ya over my knee and spanked ya right here, in my office, for everyone to hear."

His words sent a thrill through you, a combination of fear and arousal that had your heart racing and your pussy clenching. Soshiro knew just how to get to you, and he used that knowledge to his full advantage.

"I could have fucked ya senseless, right on my desk, and made ya beg for more. And ya would've taken it, wouldn't ya, darlin'? Ya would've taken every inch of me and begged for more, all because ya can't control yerself."

His voice was a low growl, full of pent-up frustration and desire. You squirmed in his lap, trying to find relief for the throbbing need between your legs.

"Now, hold still, or I'll tie ya down and leave ya here to suffer," Soshiro warned.

You whimpered at the thought, but obeyed, settling into his lap as best you could. You were already achingly wet, and the pressure of his cock against your pussy was a sweet torture.

Soshiro's hands roamed your body, touching and teasing every inch of bare skin he could reach. His fingers skimmed over your thighs, dipping dangerously close to the apex of your thighs before pulling away, denying you the relief you so desperately craved.

"Now, be a good girl and keep quiet, or I'll gag ya with yer panties," Soshiro threatened, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll use ya like a toy, and yer only purpose will be to satisfy my needs."

The threat only served to arouse you further, and you bit back a moan. The feel of his cock, hard and straining against his pants, was a constant reminder of what he could do to you. You were tempted to disobey, just to see what he would do, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn't joking.

You settled for burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. Hoshina wasted no time in returning back to the paperwork, his calloused hand gripping the pen once more.

"That's a good girl," Soshiro rasped, his free hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer. "Now, I'm going to finish this work, and you're going to sit here and take it. If ya're a good girl and keep quiet, I'll fuck ya until ya can't walk when I'm done."

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, and you clung to him, determined to obey. As Soshiro continued working, you buried your face in his neck, your body trembling with the effort to remain silent. You could feel his cock pressing against your pelvis, the delicious friction of his pants rubbing against your clit.

Soshiro's breathing was slow and steady, his concentration completely focused on the paperwork before him. You could feel his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, the heat of his body enveloping you. The combination of his scent and the subtle movements of his body was intoxicating, and you could feel yourself slowly losing control.

It was maddening, sitting there, feeling his cock throb and his body respond, but not being able to do anything about it. It was pure torture, and Soshiro was enjoying every second of it. You knew he was doing this on purpose, and the knowledge only made the ache between your legs intensify.

Hoshina's movements were deliberately slow, his free hand occasionally coming up to stroke your hair or run down your back. He was savoring your submission, drawing out the tension and your agony for as long as he could.

You weren't sure how much more you could take. You were already dripping, the evidence of your arousal soaking through your panties and dampening Soshiro's thigh. Your core ached with need, and you were desperate for some kind of release.

Suddenly, Hoshina shifted beneath you, adjusting his position and pressing his thigh more firmly against your aching clit. A strangled moan escaped your lips, muffled against his neck, but Soshiro showed no reaction. His grip on your neck tightened, a silent warning, and you bit back another groan as his thigh flexed, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.

Soshiro was a master at teasing and prolonging your torture, and he knew exactly how to get under your skin. He'd reduced you to a writhing, desperate mess with nothing but his voice and his body, and you were powerless to resist him.

As you sat there, straddling his lap, you could feel his cock growing harder, straining against the confines of his pants. Knowing that he was just as aroused as you were only intensified your desire, and you found yourself rocking against his thigh, seeking relief.

Soshiro's fingers dug into your hip, holding you still. His grip was firm, bordering on painful, but it only added to the delicious mix of sensations.

"Ya're a desperate little thing, aren't ya?" he rasped, his voice husky with desire. "Ridin' my leg like that, soakin' my pants with yer need. I bet ya'd come right here if I let ya, wouldn't ya, darlin'?"

His words were a taunt, a challenge, and you wanted nothing more than to accept it. Your clit throbbed with each flex of his thigh, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. You were so close, hovering on the edge, but Soshiro's grip on your hip kept you from toppling over.

The tension was almost unbearable, and you clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt. His breath was warm against your ear, his voice low and taunting. "I can feel how badly ya want to come, how close ya are. Go on, then, darlin'. Use my thigh. At least it’ll get ya nice and creamy for me by the time I'm done."

You hesitated, unsure if you were allowed. Soshiro's hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you against his thigh. You whimpered as you rocked against him, the friction of his pants against your aching clit sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"That's it," he growled, his voice heavy with lust. "Ya're so desperate, ya'd do anythin' to come, wouldn't ya? Just rub yerself off on my leg, darlin'. It's the closest ya're gonna get."

His words were a mixture of command and encouragement, and you obeyed, grinding against him. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel your orgasm approaching. You were so close, just a little more, and then...

"That's enough."

Soshiro's sharp command cut through the haze of pleasure, and you froze, panting. His grip on your hip was bruising, but the ache was nothing compared to the throbbing need between your legs.

You groaned, burying your face in his neck and trying to regain your composure. Your hips continued to rock involuntarily, seeking the release that had been denied. Soshiro's voice was a low growl in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

"I said, that's enough."

His words were emphasized by a harsh slap to your rear, the sudden sting making you gasp. You bit back a moan, reluctantly stilling your hips. You could feel the evidence of your arousal soaking through your panties and staining Soshiro's pants.

"Good girl," he rumbled, his hand sliding up your spine to rest at the nape of your neck. "Now, keep quiet, or I'll give ya somethin' to be loud about."

With that, he turned his attention back to the paperwork before him. The tension between you was palpable, and you were desperate for relief. Soshiro's grip on your neck was a reminder of his control over you, and you could feel his cock, still hard and straining against his pants, leaking precum onto your thigh.

The knowledge that he was just as aroused as you, and yet completely in control, sent a new wave of desire through you. Your fingers clenched in his shirt, the only thing keeping you anchored in the storm of sensation.

"Ya should’ve known better, darlin'," Soshiro murmured, his tone laced with barely contained desire. "I taught ya better than to test me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you buried your face in his neck, clinging to him. You knew you'd pushed too far, too hard, and the consequences were just beginning.

"Ya think a little brat like you can handle me, darlin'? Think again," Hoshina hissed, his grip on the back of your neck tightening. You whimpered, squirming in his lap, the pressure of his cock against your aching core making it impossible to think straight. "Yer only job now is to keep quiet, and be a good little fucktoy for me."

His words were punctuated by a sharp bite to your neck, his fangs breaking the skin and sending a shockwave of pain and pleasure through your body. You moaned, unable to stop yourself, the ache between your legs growing to an unbearable level.

Soshiro's tongue traced the mark he'd left, soothing the wound and sending a shiver down your spine. His hand trailed down your back, slipping beneath the waistband of your skirt and cupping your ass. His fingers dug into the soft flesh, a wordless reminder of his control.

"Ya better remember this the next time ya try and get cheeky with me, darlin'," he growled, his accent thickening with lust. "Ya might have me wrapped around yer finger, but I can always remind ya who's really in charge here."

The promise in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn't help but tremble with anticipation. You knew he wasn't bluffing, and the thought of his punishments was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Now, go sit on that couch and keep that hole of yers ready," Soshiro ordered, his hand sliding out from under your skirt and giving your ass a harsh slap. "Ya won't be needin' those panties anymore, so ya can give 'em to me."

You shivered, reluctantly climbing off his lap and obeying his orders. You knew he wouldn't hesitate to follow through on his threats, and you were eager to see what he had planned. Your hands shook as you tugged down your panties, handing them over without a word.

"Good girl," Soshiro praised, tucking your panties in his pocket. He looked up at you, his gaze heated and full of promises. "Now, spread yer legs and wait."

You swallowed, nodding and moving to obey. As you sat down on the couch, your skirt rode up, exposing the slickness between your legs. Soshiro's eyes roamed over your body, drinking in the sight, before he returned his attention to the paperwork before him.

You sat there, legs spread, waiting for him to finish. Your clit throbbed, and your pussy ached for something, anything, to fill it. The minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, and your arousal only grew as Soshiro worked, your juices soaking the leather of the couch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he finished the last form and set his pen aside.

"Well, darlin', it looks like I'm all done here," he drawled, standing and stretching. He moved around the desk, his footsteps slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking his prey. You watched him approach, your heart racing in anticipation.

"I think it's about time I take care of ya, don't ya think?" Soshiro murmured, reaching out to run his fingers through your hair. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and you shuddered. "But first, let's make sure ya're ready for me."

Before you could respond, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin and forcing your mouth open. Without warning, his other hand slipped inside his pocket, pulling out the lacy panties you'd given him. Before you could protest, he shoved them inside your mouth, muffling any sound you could make.

"Ya know the rules, darlin'," he chuckled darkly. "If I wanna use ya like a fucktoy, I'm gonna do it however I like."

His fingers tightened around your chin, holding you in place as his free hand dipped between your thighs, tracing along the wetness that had coated your lips. You squirmed, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you, but Soshiro's grip was firm, his fangs glinting in the dim light as he smiled.

"Ah, look at ya, darlin'," he said softly, his thumb circling your clit and making you moan. "All wet and ready for me, like a good little fucktoy."

His fingers dipped lower, slipping inside your entrance and stretching you. You gasped, the taste of your own juices mingling with the fabric in your mouth. Soshiro's fingers were rough and calloused, his pace unrelenting, and the feel of his knuckles rubbing against your walls was maddening.

"I'm gonna make sure ya're nice and ready for me," he growled, his thumb pressing down on your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "Ya'd better come quickly, darlin', or I'll leave ya like this, aching and needy, and make ya watch while I jerk off."

His words were a potent combination of threat and promise, and you could feel your orgasm approaching with alarming speed. Your body was already oversensitive from his earlier teasing, and the roughness of his fingers only added to the sensation.

You writhed beneath his touch, your moans muffled by the makeshift gag in your mouth. Soshiro's thumb flicked your clit, his fingers curling inside you, and the pleasure was overwhelming. Your walls clenched around his fingers, and your orgasm crashed over you, your cunt gushing and drenching his hand.

"That's a good girl," Soshiro purred, withdrawing his fingers and wiping them on your skirt. "Now, we can really begin."

With that, he yanked the fabric from your mouth, tossing it aside. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pulling you up, bending you over his desk and tugging your skirt down to expose your ass.

"Time to make use of this naughty little hole," Soshiro hissed, slapping your ass and making you moan. "And remind ya who's really in charge here."

[permanentswaps]

Age Gap - Taking It To The Next Level

Read Part 1 by @exploratorytfs.

I know I confused my boyfriend when I told him about taking it to the next level. His eyes widened in surprise, and I could see the flicker of worry cross his face. He tried to ask what I meant, but I just smirked and kissed him, telling him it was a surprise. Well, yeah, it meant a couple of things – none of them something he wanted, I’m sure.

First, getting myself in shape. I loved his twink body, but now that it was mine, I needed something a little bit more muscular – something that would let me take control and dominate physically, not just mentally. That took me a few months. During that time, I was still doming him, keeping our roles intact, but I was working hard every day at the gym. The transformation was incredible. Now, look at me – this body is ready for absolutely anything.

"Hey, babe, check out these gains," I said, flexing my biceps in front of him. His eyes widened in admiration, but there was a hint of fear too. He knew I was serious about changing things up.

As the months went by and I dedicated myself to transforming my new body, the muscle worship sessions became more intense. Every day after my workout, I would come home, dripping with sweat, and make my boyfriend kneel before me. The smell of hard work and the sight of my bulging muscles seemed to both intimidate and excite him.

"Come on, babe," I said one evening, flexing my bicep in front of his face. "Show me how much you appreciate all this effort."

He leaned in, his lips trembling as they brushed against my bicep, his tongue tracing the contours of the muscle. I could feel his breath quickening, his adoration palpable. It wasn't just about worshipping me; it was about submitting entirely to the new power dynamic.

As my body grew stronger and more defined, the sessions grew longer and more demanding. "Worship every inch of me," I commanded, stretching out on the bed, my muscles glistening under the soft light. He obeyed, his hands and lips moving reverently over my chest, abs, thighs, and calves. The intensity of his worship fueled my dominance, making me crave more.

One night, after a particularly grueling session at the gym, I stood before him, shirtless, my skin glistening with sweat. "Lick it off," I ordered, my voice a low growl. He hesitated for a moment, then complied, his tongue trailing along my pecs and abs, his eyes closed in a mix of submission and arousal.

The act of worship became a ritual, a way for me to assert my dominance and for him to show his devotion. I reveled in the power I had over him, in the way his eyes lit up with awe and desire every time he saw my body.

"You're lucky to have this," I would tell him, flexing my muscles as he gazed up at me. "Remember that."

The more my body transformed, the more intense our sessions became. I made him massage my sore muscles, his fingers working into the tight knots and making me groan with pleasure. His touch, once gentle and loving, became more desperate, as if he feared losing me to my newfound strength and confidence.

Second, stepping into my new sexual era. I had developed tons of new kinks. Not only had I developed a transformation kink, but I also got really into ropes and bondage. There was something incredibly thrilling about the control and power dynamics that came with restraining someone.

I started simple, with basic knots and ties, enjoying the sight of my boyfriend's lithe body squirming beneath the bonds. "Stay still," I would command, as I carefully wrapped the rope around his wrists, securing him to the bedpost. His eyes would widen with a mix of fear and excitement, his breath hitching as I pulled the knots tight.

As I got more experienced, the bondage sessions grew more elaborate. I invested in high-quality ropes, learning intricate techniques. The artistry of the knots and the patterns they created on his skin were as satisfying as the control they symbolized.

One evening, I decided to push our boundaries further. "Tonight, we're going to try something new," I told him, a wicked smile on my face. I could see the apprehension in his eyes, but he nodded, trusting me.

I spent nearly an hour meticulously binding him, weaving the ropes around his torso, thighs, and ankles, creating a beautiful, restrictive web. By the time I was done, he was completely immobilized, every movement restricted by the tight embrace of the ropes.

"How does that feel?" I asked, running my fingers over the intricate knots.

"Intense," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Good," I replied, leaning in to kiss him. "That's exactly what I want."

The power dynamic in these moments was electrifying. I reveled in his vulnerability, in the trust he placed in me, and the absolute control I had over him. I could see the arousal in his eyes, mixed with a flicker of fear. It was a heady combination that drove me wild.

The sessions grew more intense over time. I started incorporating sensory deprivation, blindfolding him and adding earplugs to heighten his anticipation and focus his attention solely on the sensations I provided. "You don't need to see or hear," I would murmur in his ear before slipping the blindfold over his eyes. "Just feel."

His body would tense, every touch amplified in the darkness. The thrill of controlling his senses, of being his entire world in those moments, was intoxicating. I pushed his boundaries, exploring new realms of pleasure and pain, always careful but relentless in my pursuit of dominance.

The more we delved into this new sexual era, the more I realized how much I craved this control, this power. It wasn't just about the physical dominance; it was about the psychological hold I had over him. Knowing he was entirely at my mercy, trusting me implicitly, gave me a rush like nothing else.

And I could see the changes in him too. He became more pliant, more willing to submit to my desires. But even as he adapted to this new dynamic, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. I needed a sub who truly appreciated this body, who worshiped it like it deserved. Someone who matched my intensity and desire for exploration.

That thought lingered in the back of my mind, growing stronger with each passing day. I loved him, but this new era of our relationship had shown me a side of myself that craved more. More worship, more admiration, more excitement. And if that meant finding a new sub who could truly appreciate what I had become, then so be it.

Third, and this was the real kicker, was finding a sub truly worthy of this sexy body. Yeah, his body is cute, but it’s really not what I’m into now. He’s too old for me, don’t you think? I’m 20 now, for God’s sake. I should be off pounding twinks, not wasting my time with some older daddy after all.

One evening, we decided to go out to a club together. It was one of those nights where the music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and the energy was electric. I found myself drawn to the younger guys on the dance floor. Their energy, their bodies, their carefree attitudes – it was intoxicating. I realized I wanted that. I wanted someone who could keep up with me, who could worship this body the way it deserved.

As the night wore on, I noticed a particularly attractive twink eyeing me from across the room. He was everything I was looking for – young, fit, and full of energy. I felt a magnetic pull towards him, and before I knew it, we were dancing together, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

"You're amazing," the twink whispered in my ear, his hands roaming over my body.

"Thanks," I replied, my heart pounding with excitement. "You too."

We moved closer, our bodies pressed together, the chemistry undeniable. I could feel my boyfriend's eyes on us from across the room, but I didn't care. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed.

The twink and I slipped away to a quieter corner of the club, our hands exploring each other eagerly. The thrill of the moment, the forbidden nature of it, only made it more exciting. I knew I was crossing a line, but I didn't care. This was my new life, my new desire.

When we finally returned to the main floor, my boyfriend was waiting, his face a mask of anger and hurt. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, his voice shaking with emotion.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied coolly, even though we both knew exactly what he meant.

"Don't play dumb with me," he snapped. "I saw you. I saw everything."

"Maybe it's time you faced the truth," I said, my voice steady. "This isn’t working for me anymore. I'm young, hot, and ready for more. I should be out there, exploring, not tied down to someone who can’t keep up."

The hurt in his eyes was palpable, but I pressed on. "I need a sub who truly appreciates this body, who worships it like it deserves. You’re too old for me now."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he tried to protest. "But we can make this work. I can change, I can be better for you."

"No," I said firmly. "It's not about you changing. It's about me realizing what I need. And what I need is someone who can match my intensity and my desires. Someone younger, more energetic. I'm sorry, but this is the end for us."

He didn't take the news well, of course. He begged and pleaded. "Let's swap our bodies back," he said desperately. "We can go back to how things were. Please."

I looked at him, feeling a mix of pity and annoyance. "Swap back?" I repeated, stepping closer to him. "I don't know what you're talking about. This body has always been mine."

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No, please. We can fix this."

I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at me. "Listen to me," I said, my voice low and commanding. "This is my body. It always has been. You need to move on."

Packing my things was bittersweet. There were moments of doubt, memories of the good times we shared. But I knew this was the right decision for me. I needed to be true to myself, to my desires. And staying in a relationship that no longer fulfilled me wasn't fair to either of us.

As I walked out the door, I felt a mix of liberation and anticipation. The world was out there, full of possibilities, full of young, eager subs ready to worship me. Watch out world, Liam Anderson is ready to step it up a notch.

I moved into a new place, closer to the gym and the nightlife. It didn’t take long for me to find what I was looking for. Young, fit twinks who looked up to me with admiration and desire. They craved the dominance I offered, and I reveled in their worship.

One in particular caught my eye – a 19-year-old with a lean, toned body and an insatiable hunger for submission. We hit it off immediately. He was everything I wanted – eager, energetic, and utterly devoted to pleasing me.

"You're perfect," I told him one night, running my hands over his smooth skin. "Exactly what I need."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, his eyes shining with gratitude and lust.

Life was perfect. I had the body I wanted, the power I craved, and a sub who worshiped me like a god. The doubts and guilt faded away, replaced by the thrill of living my truth. I was finally where I belonged – in control, admired, and desired.

And as I looked at myself in the mirror, flexing my muscles, I knew I had made the right choice. The world was mine, and I was ready to conquer it.

[soulofapatrick]

Amortentia - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: You brew Amortentia and it leads somewhere you didn't ever expect Words: 1.7k Warnings: none really Notes: I am alive I promise, been really busy as we're getting ready to move house

Y/N’s POV

Amortentia. The most powerful love potion in the world. The way many people find their partners in Hogwarts and the most exciting class of the year. Everyone is buzzing around, whispering and giggling with their friends about the vial sat on Professor Slughorn’s desk, left completely unguarded. I take on glance at the shimmering blue liquid and cringe a little before finding the closest seat to the door, throwing my bag on the floor after pulling out the Potions book. 

“Hey Y/N,” Harry slides into the seat beside me with his signature unruly black hair and this bright green eyes that seem to hold a hint of mischief and determination, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He wears his Gryffindor uniform somewhat neatly, his tie slightly askew adding to this charm.

Ron isn’t far behind, grumbling about the upcoming lesson. His fiery red hair is as untameable as ever, and his freckled face displaying nothing but annoyance as he throws his arms over mine and Harry’s shoulders and letting his knees buckle while pretending to swoon, “Oh Theodore, my love, it youuuuuu-“ 

“Oh shut up!” I push his arm off my shoulders and he falls with a cry of surprise, Harry trying to catch him but ending up letting Ron fall to snigger behind his hand, “You’re probably going to fall head over heels for Snape… oh Snape, oh how I love thee Sn-“ 

“Alright, let’s begin this lesson shall we?” Professor Slughorn comes breezing in, not as well as Snape as he’s just too happy for that. Ron squeezes my shoulder before he slinks off to sit in one of the only spaces next to Neville who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. 

As the lesson commences, Slughorn goes over the instructions and safety precautions for handling Amortentia. The excitement in the room is palpable as we prepare to brew the potent love potion. The air is filled with a mix of anticipation and trepidation, but I find myself feeling grateful for Harry taking over, using his special edition of the potions book that is full of scribbles and notes presumably making the potion better. The simmering cauldrons and swirling concoctions coming together creates an almost enchanting atmosphere, the scents in the air shifting and blending, giving the room an ethereal quality. 

A figure appears over my shoulder, surprise and curiosity coursing through my veins when I recognise that familiar scent of oranges, honeycomb and something darker like amber which can mean only one thing: Theodore Nott is standing behind me. His calm and composed demeanour a little intimidating as I don’t think I’ve ever seen him actually smile more than a very small lift of the corner of his lips. Oh his lips, so plump and flush and-

“How’s the potion going Mouse? Have you blown up-“ He stops abruptly, leaving forwards over my shoulder and taking a very deep breath, causing me to stumble a little over the response I was trying to formulate. His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down my spine at the nickname he calls me. 

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s coming along.” I manage to stammer rout, feeling my cheeks heat up, “Haven’t blown anything up… yet.” 

Theodore’s lips quirk upward ever so slightly, and I catch a glimpse of what could be a hint of amusement. He leans in a little closer, and I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, sending more shivers down my spine, but it’s a delicious kind nervousness, a feeling I can’t quite put into words. Before I can fully process the situation, Theodore buries his nose in the crook of my neck, taking a deep breath. My heart pounds in my chest so loud I’m sure Ron can hear it from across the room, and time seems to slow down. The scents of oranges, honeycomb and amber envelops us, creating an intimate and intoxicating moment. 

I can hardly believe that Theodore, the stoic and straight-faced Slytherin, is here, so close to me, and that he’s showing this level of vulnerability. His actions are unexpected but oh so incredibly thrilling. I dare to steal a glance at his face, and I’m met with a sight I’ve never seen before - a softness in his expression, a hint of something more than his usual guarded demeanour. It’s as if he’s letting down his walls, revealing a side of himself he rarely shows to anyone. 

My heart races, and I find myself yearning for more of this closeness, more of this connection. It’s like a spell has been cast, and I’m under Theodore’s enchantment. The excitement and nervousness intertwine, and I feel a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events, how close he is to me. I can feel his breath ghosting over my lips, knowing that I could just lean forwards ever so slightly and close the near non-existence space between us. The smell of oranges, honeycomb and amber suddenly gets so intense I have to grab the edge of the table and Theodore’s forearm. 

“Aha! We did it!” Harry exclaims, breaking the moment and has Theodore pulling back. Theodore’s eyes meet mine, and I see a spark of something familiar and yet different. The air between us crackles with unspoken words, emotions swirling around us like the brewing potions in the classroom.

“Oh god.” I choke out and I think Theodore actually smiles for the first time, the corner of his lips tilting up into more of a smile than he’s ever shown before, “Wh-what do you smell Teddy?”

He leans in once more, his nose brushing against my collarbone and neck. His closeness sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. And then, he presses a soft, gentle kiss to my jaw, sending shockwaves of sensation through me. It’s a sweet, tender touch that leaves me breathless. 

“You.” He whispers, his voice barely audible,  but the impact of his words reverberates within me. The world seems to stand still, and my heart swells with emotion. 

Theodore Tiberius Nott, the guarded and enigmatic Slytherin, had just confessed, in his own subtle way, that he feels something for me. My cheeks flush with a. Mixture of excitement and disbelief. It’s a moment I never thought I’d experience - being so close to Theodore, sharing this intimate connection, and hearing him express his feelings in such a heartfelt manner. In the heart-stopping moment, I can see the turmoil of emotions playing across his face. His eyes meet mine with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. And then, without warning, he mumbles a single phrase that sets my heart racing even faster. 

“Fuck it,” he whispers, and before I can process his intent, his hand cups my jaw, and he draws me up into a kiss. It’s a surprise, but the moment our lips meet, it’s as if everything falls into place. 

The kiss is soft yet intense, filled with all the emotions that words can’t express. It feels like an explosion of passion and longing, an unspoken confession that’s now imprinted on our lips. Theodore’s lips are warm and inviting, and I respond with equal fervour, my heart soaring with joy and disbelief. Time seems to stand still, and the air crackles with the intensity of our shared emotions. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a revelation of hidden desires and unspoken feelings. All the walls Theodore had erected to guard his heart have crumbled, and in this magical moment, he bares himself to me in the most intimate way. 

Just as the world around us seems to disappear in the enchantment of the moment, reality crashes back in with an unexpected interruption. Ron, being the protective and ever-observant twin brother, appears out of nowhere and is shoving Theodore away from me. 

“Hey! That’s my sister!” Ron’s voice is filled with shock and indignation, “You can’t just go around kissing my sister!” 

“Ron!” I can’t help but practically facepalm at him as he’s… he’s being Ron, “Shove off,” I reach around Ron and manage to get a grip on Theodore’s sleeve enough to pull him back over to me. Ron's protectiveness is well-intentioned, but I can't let it ruin the magical moment that Theodore and I just shared. 

“I’m not… She’s safe with me, I promise.” Theodore's words are reassuring, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks. Despite his usual stoic demeanour, there's a tenderness in his touch as he holds my hand, a silent declaration of his feelings for me. 

“I trust him.” I say firmly, giving my brother a pleading look. Ron just looks torn for a moment, clearly struggling between his protective instincts and his trust in me. But then, he takes a deep breath and nods reluctantly. 

“Fine.” His says, his voice gruff but accepting, “But if he hurts you in any way, he’ll have me to deal with.” Ron eyes him warily but eventually takes a step back, giving us some space. ”Just remember, Y/N, he's a Slytherin," Ron says, his protective tone still evident.

"He's more than just his house," I reply, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for Theodore.

Ron studies me for a moment before he finally relents. ”Fine," he says, "But don't say I didn't warn you.”

With that, Ron turns and walks away, leaving Theodore and me standing there, still holding hands. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that Ron didn't push the matter further. 

“Ahhhh young love.” Slughorn’s voice floats across the room , filled with warmth and nostalgia, and I do the only thing I can: bury my face in Theodore’s sweater, feeling a laugh rumble in his chest. 

“Indeed.” Theodore says, his voice laced with amusement as he wraps his arms around me in a gentle embrace. Slughorn giving us an indulgent smile before continuing with the class. The room seeming to take on a different atmosphere now, one that’s tinged with a newfound sweetness and magic. The shimmering cauldrons and swirling potions seem to mirror the emotions swirling within me, and I can’t help but realise how cliche this is. Expressing our feelings for each other during the lesson on amortentia… 

“I’ll wait for you after class.” Theodore murmurs, kissing my forehead then my cheek before untangling himself from my embrace before heading back to his seat next to a predictably sneering Draco Malfoy. 

“What just happened?’ I ask Harry, a little dazed still, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“I’m not actually sure.” 

-----------

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[3d-wifey]

I've read that Johnny NSFW alphabet like 30 times, it was so gooddddd, there's been no good Johnny Cage smut or writing in general honestly. Your Johnny just feels so in character and you're feeding me crumbs, I need moreeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (that sneak peek made me levitate)

Show 'em Who I Belong To

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader Synopsis: Johnny has seriously pissed you off this time, like, royally. The "begging on his knees" kind of pissed off. But luckily, he knows just the thing to do to prove he’s sorry. Word Count: 2.58k Playlist: Here's a Johnny Cage playlist to read his smut or just get inspo from, I made it myself TW: Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, switch!Reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!Reader, Forgiveness, Making Up, Apology Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Recording, Sex Tapes, Exhibitionism, Begging, Hand Jobs, Grinding, Crying During Sex, johnny cage loves you, johnny cage is just really really dumb, celebrity!reader, No Spoilers, Making Out, "straight" couple, johnny's slutty little slacks, Johnny cage is a little shit, Pussy drunk, cock drunk, Praise Kink, simp johnny cage, no other canon characters show up in this, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut A/N: Since the poll I put on Tumblr voted for switch!Johnny, that's what I'm doing! This chapter will mostly be sub!johnny and dom!reader with a switch at the end. It's a bit of a mixed pov, but it's mainly from the reader's pov. Nothing but Dom!Johnny in the next chapter and sorry if the quality was lacking, I've slept a total of 10 hours in a span of 72 hours. CHECK OUT THAT JOHNNY NSFW ALPHABET I WROTE, IT'S CONSIDERED CANON TO THIS! Part 2 (tbm) Ao3

Your acrylics tap a beat onto the arm of the plush white couch as you read the tweet on your phone.

" Johnny Cage spotted cozying up on set with Co-Star. Has the star finally met his match? " Your nails stop and you glance at where Johnny kneels fidgeting on the floor in front of you before looking back to the screen.

He spreads his hands. "Okay, I know this looks bad." His voice floats in the otherwise quiet mansion. "But will you please stop ignoring me?"

You look down your nose at him. "Is this enough attention for you?" You sneer and he grimaces.

"My PR team cooked this up a while ago and they've been hounding me about it for ages. It was so unimportant to me that it sorta...slipped my mind." He shrugs and your glare hardens him. " C'mon , babe, it's just a little publicity stunt our agents had us do for the movie. It doesn't mean anything." He laughs and his nonchalance about the situation is pissing you off more than you already are.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" You fume and his brows furrow. "This isn't funny, Jonathan."

" Oof, " he winces, "government name."

You're both celebrities, you know what you signed up for when you agreed to date him after years and years of his begging and truly horrible pickup lines.

You're not mad about the situation itself, not really. You've gotten into drama before loads of times to drum up hype around a new project, but nothing like this. At least, not while you were dating Johnny. 

You're mad that you had to find out about it from the trending page on Twitter along with a slew of concerned messages from your friends, family, and manager.

You scroll down and read messages concerned fans have posted, worried that you and Johnny have broken up or, worse, that he cheated on you. But you know that he knows that you know he wouldn’t dare.

"Look at this shit." You shove your phone in his face. The screen reflects off the sunglasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose and he squints as the brightness nearly blinds him. "'I hope this isn't how she finds out.' 'I'd be so embarrassed if I was her.' 'I knew Johnny wouldn't stay faithful for long.'"

He looks from you to the screen and then back to you. "...You're mad."

You stare down at him.

"You are un- fucking -believable.” You move to stand up, but he grabs ahold of your hips.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to upset you. Next time, I'll give you a heads up— I mean I'll run it by you.” Johnny corrects, pulling you closer when you try to pull away again. "What can I do to make it up to you, huh?" The muscles in his biceps flex against you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You try to stay firm, but it's pretty hard when he's pressing reverent kisses to your stomach.

You shiver from the coldness of his rings as he runs a big hand up your calf, traveling up your outer thigh to hook the hem of your dress at your hip before repeating the process up your other leg.

You want to stay mad—you are mad. This is incredibly careless and he didn't consider your feelings at all and...and you don't want him to think he can get out of trouble by kissing up to you. But, begrudgingly, you card your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm still really upset about this, Johnny." You frown.

"I know, sweetheart. And I really am sorry. But, hey! I know something that'll make us both feel better." He grins up at you and you let him lead you back to the couch with a huff, dropping down once the back of your calves brush the white upholstery. 

“I’m sure you do.” You roll your eyes, spreading your legs to make room for him without thinking. “How would you —ahh !” You yelp at the sudden pinprick of pain on the skin of your inner thigh and it morphs into a moan when the pinch is quickly followed by a warm heat. You look down in time to see the pink of Johnny’s tongue as he licks over the tender spot—tender because he bit you like a damn dog!

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I couldn’t really hear you over all those cute little noises.” You can feel the shit-eating grin against your skin as he talks. “You’re so sensitive. Definitely not a complaint—it does amazing things to my ego.” He laughs, hooking his hands under the back of your knees and pushing your legs up until the heels of your feet are balancing precariously on the edge of the seat.

He grips your hips, pulling you further down the couch and closer to his face. He moves your legs so your feet rest on his shoulders, the white polish of your toenails reflecting the light.

He leans in and you hold your breath in anticipation. You don’t want him to think he can just distract you and you’ll forget about being mad at him but—he leans in close to where the skirt of your sundress rucks up around your stomach, warm breath making you clench around nothing with each pant—but you like getting ate out almost as much as Johnny likes to do it.

You sigh as the warm, wet heat of his tongue drags across the damp seat of your panties. 

" Johnny. " You whine in frustration, fingers tightening in his sandy hair, as he pulls away as quickly as he came.

"Hold on, sweetheart. I think you're gonna like this." He grins, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. You pause as he unlocks it and presents it to you, camera on and recording you.

"What the hell are you doing?" You try to push as much disapproval into your voice as you can as you flip it from the front-facing camera to the rear one, but that’s an almost impossible task since he’s rubbing his nose up and down the crease of where your thigh meets your pussy. You end up sounding far more breathy than intended.

"What?” He grins into the camera. “You can watch this whenever you need a reminder of who I belong to." He says and if you weren't wet before, you definitely are now.

For as long as you’ve known him, Johnny has never been one to half-ass anything . It’s whole ass or nothing with him putting 110% into everything he’s faced with. However, when you first started dating, you hadn’t thought that would hold up when he had his head between your legs—yet another thing Johnny went out of his way to prove you wrong about.

The camera captures it the moment he pushes your panties to the side; he’s in his element.

There’s no preamble, no warning. Johnny dives in giving you no time to prepare for the shock of pleasure. You jerk away, but he holds onto your hips, hands becoming heavy weights you can’t lift. 

“You always taste so good for me, it’s insane.” He groans as your thighs try to squeeze his head, but he keeps them open easily. You sigh shakily at the casual show of strength. “I’d stay down here forever if you’d let me.” You bite your lip to muffle your soft moans, reminding yourself to steady the phone every few seconds, but forgetting to do so almost as soon as you do. But you can’t be blamed when Johnny gives head like he’s training for the Olympics; trying to break his previous record each attempt. You’ve been eaten out by people other than Johnny—of course, you have. It’s a requirement—but none of your past lovers come anywhere close to this. Johnny blows them out of the water every time.

That would be fine if you didn’t factor in his ego. Which would also be fine…any other day. But today, after the shit he pulled, you aren’t in the mood. This is supposed to be his way of apologizing, after all. So before he can get any ideas, you blink past the haze he’s put you in and grab the back of his neck. His back stiffens. He glances up at you and the shift is so swift that you doubt the camera even picked it up. His shoulders relax, almost limp against you, wide eyes going lidded as his grip on you softens.

“I know you can be louder than that, Johnny. I, hah , wanna hear how sorry you are. You are sorry, right?” You narrow your eyes.

His words are muffled since he refuses to take his mouth off of you, but you’re able to make out ‘yes’ and ‘princess’ which is good enough for you. Through the camera, you manage to get his pleading eyes and his hand unabashedly palming his bulge in the same frame and you smile around a moan.

"Are you hard, Johnny?" He doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, and you feel yourself throb in his mouth. You're sure if your feet were on the ground he'd be grinding against your leg shamelessly. His body knows this too since his hips keep making aborted little thrusts, itching for relief from his tight gray slacks. "Heh, of course, you are. You can't help yourself, c–can you? Go on, then.”

He pauses, assessing you for a second to see if you’ll follow it up with anything else. You’re being surprisingly benevolent. He always has to work to earn your approval when you get like this, any pleasure he gets is dictated by you—not that he’s complaining—and that’s on the days when he hasn’t pissed you off. He honestly didn’t think he’d be cumming tonight, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He buries his tongue in you, licking from your pulsing hole to your throbbing clit as his hands work to unbuckle his belt and pull his dick out. He groans in relief once he’s free, squeezing the base of his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly. You’re certainly not helping, shivering against him like a house in a storm and he moans in synch with you when you yank on his hair.

He freezes at the press of sharp nails at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the slight pinch of pain before leaning into it and you reward him with smoothing down the hair there. He stops the movement of his hands, but not his mouth.

“If you’re touching yourself, you’ll do it slowly or not at all. You wanna make it up to me, don’t you? Yeah ?” You hiss as he nods against you, mouth a tight suction on your clit. “Then you don’t cum until I do.” Normally he’s more bratty than this, making you fuck the submission out of him, but he must really be sorry because he does just as you say. He slows down as you instruct, his sharp brows furrowing as one of his hands grip the fat of your thigh. His other hand jerks him off haltingly like he actively has to remind himself to obey you. 

“You’re being so good for me, baby.” You gush, squirming in his hold. “ Mmh, s’fucking good.” You have to adjust your grip on his phone when he grunts at your praise, uncertain if you should jerk away or towards the vibrations. You run your nails over his scalp before yanking on his blond hair and he moans like a pornstar, hips thrusting into his hand. To the untrained eye—or ear—it seems like he’s playing it up for the camera, performing, but he’s always this loud. Especially when he’s got your pussy in his mouth.

It's almost embarrassing, the wet sounds of Johnny sloppily eating you out. Your moans mix with his and bounce around the mansion's walls with a filthy echo the longer this goes on. 

He stiffens his tongue and you know what he wants. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands to pull him forward. You thrust your hips with helpless, heady moans as you fuck his face. His heavy gaze burns through the camera to stare up at you with his tongue out. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk and he winks. You throw your head back, eyes closed with an obscene moan and he moves forward to press his nose against your clit, tongue flat as you move his head side to side.

“Johnny , mmh, ‘m gonna, f– fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You cry and he moans into you in response. You glance down to see his foggy glasses riding low on his nose and he stares right back, brown eyes half open but full of lust. The apples of his flushed cheeks become accentuated, sharpening with his grin. The barest hint of teeth brush your clit before pressing against it and you jerk back with the strength of your orgasm. Your mouth falls open with a repeated whine of his name, legs shaking as you hold his head still.

“Damn.” He curses, pulling away when your muscles untense. He doesn't bother wiping his mouth, wearing your slick like a trophy as he smiles into the camera. “Should’ve got that on camera. It was a money shot.” You scoff, smiling despite yourself. You pull his glasses off and sit them on your head before you press stop on the camera and toss the phone on the couch beside you, pulling him to you by the open collar of his button-up. You kiss him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue with a groan. His hands go to your hips and you wrap your legs around his waist, licking into his mouth. 

“You played dirty.” You slide your hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go. You grab his dick, still hard and leaking against his stomach. He laughs before whimpering into your mouth at your touch, rutting up into it. You swipe a thumb across his tip where precum drips down the underside of the head. "You're so wet, baby. This all for me?" You pull away to lick yourself off him, tongue dragging across the skin of his chin as you twist your wrist with every upward stroke. 

"Are you joking? O–of course. Can, shit , can you blame me?” He puffs into your neck, hot air warming your neck as you alternate between licking and kissing his jaw. His fingers spasm around your hips, and your hands fly to his shoulders when he pulls you forward until your ass is barely on the edge of the couch. Now he’s in the perfect position to—

You gasp as he ruts against you, still sensitive as his dick slides between your pussy lips. There’s no friction with how wet you both are and with every upwards thrust he bumps your twitching clit. 

“Wait, I’m— mmnh —Johnny, I’m sensitive.” 

“Ah, ah, sweetheart. You said I can cum when you do,” you jump when he nips at your neck, strong arms wrapping around your back holding you tight to him. “Besides, I’m not done apologizing.” You rock against him despite your complaining. The overwhelming feeling only increases when he bends over you to reach something, and it’s enough to distract you from the sound a phone makes when you press record.

[justmatches]

Let Me Be Your Own

Charles Xavier (Professor X) / fem! reader

Chapter 1

Word Count: 1490

First Meetings, Slow Burn, SLOW slow burn, set in mid-First Class

Note: Reader's mutation gives her the ability to manipulate/communicate with plants. Her powers are there but not very developed whatsoever, that's what Charles is going to help with :). This is him finding her after using Cerebro.

The world was quiet where she sat, her serene little nook in the park giving her a breath of fresh air for the first time that day. Work had been stressful – her boss angry and her coworkers impudent – leaving her mind buzzing and strained.

The grass beneath her was thick, a carpet on the damp Earth where she resided. She found peace in the seclusion of nature, listening to the warm thrum of the plants around her. One thing she learned since she developed her mutation was that even though there were significantly more plants than people, they were much quieter, speaking only when spoken to or when they felt something strange, something new.

Speaking of which, her thought process was interrupted by a whisper from behind her, somewhere on the ground. Someone’s coming. 

The soft sound of dress shoes clicked across the path that wound through the park, the sound turning into a light shuffle as it turned toward her, nearing closer. “Is this seat taken?” A warm voice spoke over her shoulder, compelling her to open her eyes. She turned slightly, glancing at the man behind her.

It was a generally younger man, his hair short on the sides and swept up top, a warm smile on his face, and faded blue eyes bringing forth an almost boyish quality to his features. He was put together, and dare she even say charming.

“Not yet it’s not.” She smiled, trying to hide her confusion at his sudden appearance. She watched silently as his smile widened and he came forward, sitting down in the grass beside her. She felt the grass rustle around him, the blades as curious as she was. 

As he finished settling in the grass he looked out across the park, a warm expression crossing his face at the swaths of green painting the precious little patch of the city.

“Beautiful day out, isn’t it?”

He mused, eyes flicking to read her expression, noting the curiosity of her gaze before flicking back, fixing on something in the distance.

She could feel the flora around her thrumming with a strange energy, enamored by his presence. There’s something special about him. The world seemed to hum, one of the lower-hanging branches, rustling with interest. That thought sparked her thoughts, the feeling registering that he was like her, a mutant. But a simple mutation wouldn’t send the world around them into such a state, it was almost as if his energy was reaching into that of everything around them. Strange.

“Who are you?” She asked, a little more bluntly than anticipated. Somewhere in her mind, she felt bad about being so straightforward, but her curiosity was killing her. Her eyes were trained on his, studying his features, his reactions, trying to pick up anything she could.

He chuckled, his head turning to her in reaction to her blatancy, an unbothered look on his face. “Charles Xavier,” He smiled, a nearly smug expression on his face. “You know, I’ve actually been looking for you.”

“What?” She choked, not expecting that whatsoever. What could he possibly want with her? She knew he was a mutant, but did he know she was, too? How could he know?

“I know what you are, though I haven’t quite figured out what you can do.” He stated, the words somehow answering the questions flashing through her mind.

“How did you know?” She asked, her voice low with caution.

“I have some tricks, too.” His voice echoed in her mind, her eyes squinting and then widening as she realized he never opened his mouth. He was inside her head.

“How did you-?” She stumbled, blinking away her shock. She felt an odd mix of emotions inside of her – shock, fear, comfort – all swirling in her stomach. Was she going to puke? She might puke. She had seen other mutants before but she had never talked to them, too scared to interact, and the premise that one (much less one that was literally inside of her head) was speaking with her was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

He chuckled, the light sound coming out in more of a breath than a laugh.

“Telepathy, darling. I can see every little thought flying through your mind, you know.” He teased, voice dancing on the air between them. She briefly thought that the sound was borderline musical.

She breathed out, a slight sound of amusement at the mix of the pet name and how obvious it was that he spoke to her through telepathy. She internally chided herself for the near idiocy of her last question, though she quickly blamed it on the shock of his voice inside of her skull.

“Then you already know what I can do, can’t you?” She asked, quirking her brow. He smiled, though lightly shook his head ‘no’.

“I’m afraid I don’t. You see, I do my best to avoid prying into people’s minds past the prominent, surface-level thoughts. I find it quite rude to snoop.” He explained, his voice serene but still laced with that joyous, youthful tone. She recognized it as hope, as though he looked confidently at every word that came from his mouth.

She nodded in acknowledgment, understanding his reasoning. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate you not picking my grey matter,” She joked, feeling the tension start to ease from her body. She was still a bit unsure of him, but he was kind, charming, seemingly honest, and the plants hadn’t yet had any objections to him. “Nevertheless, I assume you want to know what my mutation is, then?”

His lips quirked with amusement at her attempt at a joke. He could feel she was nervous, her emotions being one of the most prominent, unsilenceable thoughts she had, but nodded, affirming her question.

“I showed you mine, I think it’s only fair you show me yours.” He teased, returning her lighthearted, joking manner.

She bit back a chuckle and nodded, placing her hand in the grass between them. “It’s nothing much…” She muttered as she focused on the green blades around her fingers, the energy of their livelihood thrumming through her veins before channeling it into the ground a few feet in front of them. She listened to their voices, using the energy to spark the growth of a plant, stems and vines suddenly spilling out of the ground, sprouting up a foot or two before blooming into a delicate flower, the petals bright with energy and life. She heard him laugh beside her, a joyous, excited sound.

“Stupendous!” He uttered, amazement clear in his voice and eyes as he took a knee, leaning forward to examine the new plant closer. His hand twitched at his side and he reached out, about to touch the petals before looking over his shoulder, exhilaration electric in his eyes. “May I?” 

She nodded, a bright smile on her face as he watched him carefully take a petal between his fingers, thumb ghosting along the top of the smooth petal. He muttered something to himself, too quiet for her to catch before he turned back to her, his attention devoted to her. 

“I suppose I haven’t yet told you why I came looking for you.” He chuckled, wonder still lacing his tone.

She shook her head, a small laugh bubbling from her throat, surprised that she hadn’t yet to ask of his intention throughout their meeting. “And I suppose I never asked. Care to tell?” She smiled, eyes meeting his, his excited energy still prominent in the air.

“I’m creating a school for mutants – a safe space for anyone interested. So many of us have lived our lives in fear, in hiding; I want to help those who are willing to come with me. To learn how to control and embrace their powers, to use them for good. To build a better future,” He explained, serious and passionate at the same time. “And I want you to come with me.”

She felt a lump in her throat at the idea of leaving everything she knew behind. But in hindsight, would it be worth it? She didn’t have much to leave behind – no family, not much of a social life, and a pretty awful job. In her few seconds of indecision, she realized that what he was offering would be much better than her current life. She would be surrounded by people who understood her, who were like her, and she would have friends and a stable home. She could have everything a reasonable person wanted.

“Okay,” She breathed, her smile growing as the hopes of his better future embraced her thoughts, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the man in front of her. Though they were strangers she felt comforted by him, she knew she could trust him as he stood up, offering his hand. His smile was warm and exhilarating, giving her a hope she had never known before.

A/N: I just want to say this is my first time properly writing and publishing a chapter of a fic, so feedback is very welcome and appreciated!! My requests are open if there's anything you're itching for, and if you want more of this story, let me know :)

[taylorswiftstyle]

Out and about | New York City, NY | September 6, 2024

Undress Code 'No Promises Bodysuit' - $159.00 Louis Vuitton 'Coussin BB Bag' - $4,150.00 The Row 'Classic Leather Belt' - $590.00 Louis Vuitton 'Donna High Boot' - $2,760.00

If I had to describe my own personal fashion wheelhouse, I would say it sits closer to neutrals and classic/polished cuts. An outfit that involves all black, a blazer, and boots? Sign me up! While in my own life I ordinarily wouldn’t reach for a mesh bodysuit … on a NYC date night - I’ll accept it. Encourage it, even! The sheer quality of this bodysuit actually reminds me of the Tortured Poets cover and how those clothes communicated a feeling of powerful, sensual, and raw vulnerability. An ownership over something intimate. Choosing what exactly to make public and what to keep a little veiled. This new-to-her brand also represents two of her signature style pillars: the high/low and indie designers. This is when Taylor will mix high end brands with more accessibly priced pieces (often from smaller, lesser-known labels like this Polish brand whose cheeky name references their predominantly sheer offerings that largely centers on lingerie and bodysuits) for an inspirational/attainable blend. 

Taylor has often gone back to an all black look for dinner nights out. And who can blame her. I lean on all black all the time when I want to feel polished and chic. Texturally, I thought this was a really well-played outfit. The differences in material and feel prevent an all black look from feeling too one-note. Between the mesh of the top, the silk of the blazer, and the embossing of the bag and boots the outfit has tons of movement and interest. Even all using the same colour! And in terms of metallic styling, there’s a motif of gold in all her hardware that keeps things cohesive.

Illustration by Amelia Noyes

[spidybaby]

Dull shine part 2 pleeeeease 😫❤️ ur srsly talented!!!

Dull Shine | Part Two

Summary: An advice and looking into the mirror makes Kylian understand why you left.

Warnings: cursing, depression topic, money issues.

A/N: It's meeee hiiii, I'm the problem it's ME. Sorry about taking so much time, I was solving some personal things, and now I'm freeeee 😫✨️ love you all so much ❤️

Also, heads-up, this is short because I think it's all it needs, not a full part two, more like a compliment that seals the deal 😀❤️

Part one

One day left.

That's what Kylian told himself when he woke up.

One day left for you to come back.

He can't deny that he wasn't the most excited person in the room the next day at practice. Everybody noticed, it was like everybody knew what happened that night.

But not at Luis Enrique's home. At his own, when he told you to move on from the problem he created.

When he ignored you, back turned to you. When you needed him the most. Every time he thinks about it, his heart sinks. It's a weight he's not able to lift.

His mother was the first to notice your absence. He walked into his home with something for you and you weren't there.

The first excuse. "She's working late."

Then it was Ethan. He called you to go to the movies and have a fun night. Wanting to see you after being busy with the team.

The second excuse. "She's sick, have a cold."

They both believed his words. Thinking you were being taken care of by him. But when the excuses kept coming. It wasn't normal anymore.

"Just be honest, we are your family." Fayza says. Sitting next to him. "Tell us what happened."

He sighs, ready to finally disclose his feelings. "She left a week and a half ago." He confess. Hands covering his face. "We had a fight, I said some things just days before, and she wasn't at the right mental place to deal with everything."

They didn't understood. How?

"What do you mean she left?" Ethan asks, standing up from his seat. "She left just like that? You let her leave just like that?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Kylian fights back. "She had her things packed, her ticket purchased and I thought that was the best thing. Don't you think this hurts me?"

"I can't believe you, Kylian. You lie to us, instead of admit that you fucked up. You lie straight to our faces."

"I was hurt, Y/n left, I was scared of facing that."

Fayza is silent, processing the information while her sons yell at each other.

"Enough, Ethan, sit down." She orders. "Kylian, you two broke up?"

He shakes his head no. "She just needed time. We were just not working together in understanding each others probl-"

"More like you weren't." Ethan interrupts. "Because all I hear is me, me, me. But you don't really think that same thinking got you where you are?"

He didn't fight back.

He knows his little brother is right.

"When will she be back?" His mother asks, worried expression.

"In a few days."

And those few days turned into just a few hours.

To be honest with himself, he was stressed. You were going to be back in Paris, but we're you going to be back with him?

Will the break become a breakup?

He was overthinking. That was not good.

Hakimi felt bad. He knew you better. When he heard what Kylian told him about you leaving, about Pamela belittling you, he checked his cameras.

The good thing about having money is that you can afford a very good quality security system. He heard how Pamela attacked you first. You then answered back, but you weren't going to let yourself get insulted.

He apologized to you over text. Asking you to forgive him and tell you how much guilt he feels about this whole situation.

When you read the texts, you felt weird. It wasn't his fault, or even Pamela's.

Everything was a mix of frustration, sadness and low self-respect you had for yourself.

You defend yourself from Pamela, but who was going to defend you from yourself?

You were the one belittling yourself.

Were you enough? You are.

But were you feeling enough? No.

Were you happy with Kylian?

And that question burned your mind for days.

You loved Kylian, he was your rock and you were his rock. You passed some critical times, but nothing like this.

Because he was there for you when you needed him the most, he was there when you lost someone, he was there when you felt homesick, he was there at you happiest.

But you didn't allow him to he at your lowest.

You notice how he was going out more, but he always asked you to come with him. Begged you to leave the house and accompany him.

You notice how he never heard you talk. But you barely even made conversation. You let him speak. When it was your turn, you only said, "I had a good day."

He had to fulfill the quietness with words.

Your mother asked you to think about therapy. Maybe there was something you needed that she or anyone couldn't understand. Something only you could.

And you did. You went to therapy while you were there. Every two days.

It was just the beginning, but it helped you understand that you had more than just a relationship problem. In fact, the relationship problem came from this.

Being blue is normal. We all feel like that.

But when you don't treat it, it can be rough. And you were doing that now, understanding that you needed help. Help that a trip home won't give you. Help that a fight with your friends new girlfriend won't give you.

But help that your lover can give you. He can be the hand to hold during this.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes, I know now what I need to do." You say, hugging your friend.

You felt nervous about coming back.

Would he be okay with that?

Did he realize he didn't need you anymore?

If only you knew how anxious he is at Paris. Watching the time every five minutes to see if your arrival time is coming closer.

He prepared your favorite meal. Got your favorite dessert, your favorite drink and even prepare everything for a bubble bath.

He needed you to know how much he appreciates you, how important you are for him.

You were nervous too, your leg bouncing and bitting your nails. You brought him a gift from your home. Something he asked you a long time ago, and you never got due to not being able to travel back home.

You asked for an Uber. Not wanting his chauffeur to pick you or him to get out in the coldness of Paris.

The whole drive was painful. You were overthinking.

Both of you were.

"Would she be back to stay?"

"Is this going to end?"

"What if he doesn't want me back?"

"What if this is the end?"

"Madame, we are here." The Uber called your attention once your things were next to you on the street.

"Merci beaucoup." You say, paying him and telling him that you will take it from here.

You open the gate with your control. The sound of it interrupting the calm of the evening.

When he heard the sound, his heart stopped for a second. He was about to throw up from nerves.

The giggle of the keys makes him stop, he feels like throwing up. He took a sip of water before looking at himself on his phone camera, checking if he looked presentable.

The smell of food hits you as soon as you walk inside. Leaving your suitcase by the stairs and slowly walking inside trying to find him.

His back welcomes you, he's focused on his phone to notice you walking into the kitchen. The table was ready, your favorite food ready to be served.

"Kyks?"

He turns quickly, smiling at you with soft eyes. He walks with open arms to you. You lock your arms behind his back, feeling his kisses on your face.

"Mon amour." He kiss your forehead. "How was your flight? Did you even sleep? Are you hungry? I made your favorite meal and I was waiting f-"

You interrupted him by kissing his lips, and all the worries from both of you are out the door. You know he's not mad, and he knows you still love him.

"It was good. Thank you for updating my seat." You answer his questions. "I did sleep, almost all the flight, and I'm very hungry. Thank you for cooking. I can't wait to try it."

He kiss you on the lips, smiling into the kiss. His safe space is back with him. There is nothing better right now.

He pulls you to the chairs, serving you the food and drink. You can tell he was happy. He looked fresh.

You eat in silence. The peace of it is different than before. There was no more weird silence that a video or keyboard sound filled.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this."

He nods, waiting for the right time to talk about all the things that need to be talked about. He lays his head on your shoulder. Kissing your neck.

You feel the same. You want to jump and talk about everything to end the topic and move on. But that was not the way.

However, procrastinating the conversation wasn't the way either. "Let's talk. The faster, the better." You smile.

"Impatient much?" He jokes. Standing up and taking the plates to the sink. "Let's go to the living room?"

You nod, standing up and grabbing his hand, directing him to the big fluffy couch you both love.

"I want to start." He says as soon as his body falls into the cushion.

"Okay, lovie." You smile.

He thinks for a second, how can he ask what he needs to ask? He knows that no matter what, it will hit.

"Why weren't you honest about you having money issues?"

Your expression didn't change. You knew he knew. Celine asked you to pick your check a few days after you asked her you were taking a few days off to rest your mind.

You asked Kylian to pick it up, and Celine gave him a piece of her mind. She felt bad about doing it and called you a few hours later.

She told him that he was an asshole if he couldn't even tell that you were having issues not only with your peace of mind but with how much you worked and felt bad about never been able to match the lifestyle he was.

"I don't have money issues, Ky." You say, low but enough for him to hear. "What I had was the concept that I needed to have a certain amount of money to be enough for you. Leading to me working extra and feeling less than everybody who was around and could give themselves the benefit of spending what I earned in a nightclub."

He nods, understanding. "You know that I'm not like that, right?"

"I do. You always supported me in any way you could. And I'm grateful for you. I just felt so out of place." You sigh. "And every girl who got close to your friends always asked me about your ex, how she was this way and this way. I felt like competing."

He can feel his heart sinks. He never wanted you to compare yourself to the girls he dated. There was a reason why he was done with those relationships.

"You are so smart." He says, hand caressing your cheek. "You have no idea how much I ever wanted to end with someone like you. Not only beautiful but a very strong woman who doesn't need other peoples opinions and who can shine on her own."

You can feel your eyes watering. You never thought that his words were something you needed, but you did.

"My ex-girlfriends are just that. Exes. You are my present and my future." He kiss your cheek. "And I want you to know that no amount of money or any girl who I ever got anything with is going to take the place you have in my heart. You are the one."

Your lips found his, you can't think of any future plans or anything that didn't include him. You know he was your one, and knowing you are his one is heartwarming.

"I'm sorry, I know I was acting like a bitch. I think I felt way too comfortable, and I was so wrong for not noticing that you weren't you. I promise I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Thank you for that." You smile. "I'm sorry too, I was overwhelmed with all the thoughts in my mind. I think I let the worst of it hit me and never paint mind to it."

"It's okay." He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it. "You have me, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

The warmth in your heart is hard to describe. You are sure he will be with you no matter what. The same way you were for him when he needed you.

You hug him, falling into his embrace. His hands caressing your body while he left sweet words in your ear.

"We are going to be okay because we have each other." He kiss your lips and your head. "Tu m’as et je t’ai. Je t’aime, tu es mon monde." He humms.

[moosha-mushroom]

Media I imagine different fiction podcasts in instead of the media of being a podcast.

TMA: A selection of volumes, relating to the fears, each with those removable covers. Those covers has a victim or two, and then underneath the cover is a really detailed cover. The paper is decoratively ripped, with a kind of scraggly font, and each has a foreword and ‘author’s note’ from Jonathan Sims.

Malevolent: A really gritty graphic novel with deadly detail in each panel, and very little color. Maybe a trinket on each important character has a color? Like Arthur’s eyes being yellow or Oscar’s collar having a blue sheen to it. The novels are long, dramatic, and intimate in a visceral way.

Welcome to Night Vale: Local 58 bullshit. A broadcast on television with low quality images and audio, tacky music, and a kind of 80’s aesthetic. Each episode the words WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE zoom onto the screen, the purple eye behind them. And each weather segment is an animated short by a different artist.

The Penumbra(Juno Steel): A webcomic. Hours spent scrolling downward a comic that has so much color and GEOMETRIC design. Juno and his curvy jaw, brown pie slice eyes, a cartoonishly high collar for his investigator jacket. Nureyev and his sharp square jaw, shimmering jewelry, and stick legs. Characters sticking out of the panels, fonts changing constantly, a little blue Juno that does his narration and *guitar theme plays* each time he appears.

Wolf 359: A classic comic. Issues month by month. Different special covers of the characters in extra dramatic poses or scenes. Even MORE panel breaking than Juno Steel. So MUCH onomatopoeia, even for small things like the clink of a panel or the disapproving hiss of Hilbert in the background. Geometric designs like Juno Steel, but less colorful. Like the superhero art style mixed with a more stylized look.

Midnight Burger: You pull up the Midnight Burger website. They have a hidden page that has a sort of script-comic thing going on, where the art is next to the writing. Small coded in notes from Leif sometimes pop up if you hold your arrow over the art. Links are attached to the parts where Effie and Zebulon play music, linking you to the music so you can listen to it while you read.

Desert Skies: An animated show. Indie, something you’d find on YouTube. The animation is bouncy and incorporates 3D animation alongside the 2D. Maybe the Sphere Movers have 3D models and the staff don’t? The credits are short because it was made by one guy. People are complaining about it on Twitter /j. People are making content farms about it. Everyone is pissed at Corson like they’re pissed at Jax.

The Amelia Project: A sort of simulation video game. You play as Arthur. You listen to their stories and draw pieces of the tale to invent their death. Every once in a while the game transitions to a point and click suspense game where you solve puzzles as Cole and Haines. Maybe there should even be an Operation-esque part of it where you work as Kozlowski.

Ghost Wax: A novel with a lot of pictures spliced in it. The stories are all in a single book, though the book is through Luca’s perspective— so he picks up on the ghost’s body language and Voncid’s reactions. The pictures are tarot cards with each victim as a card. Some are repeat cards— Lorem does not have a card at the end of the story. Nor does Our Home or Evening at the Ardent. The pictures are only white with black line art. No color whatsoever.

Kakos Industries: A company newsletter. Not a broadcast. A newspaper that arrives at your door and has big bold letters with the main story and pictures of the events that happen in the story as it goes. And the Sunday Comic page is full of employee shenanigans. Some innocent… some not.

I am losing my mind.