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#sorry for all the tags; I just have all the feels
technically-human · 8 hours
Note
Can you draw something with Doom Patrol!Edwin and Netflix!Edwin?
Maybe something about Dp!Edwin talking about his feelings for Charles with N!Edwin?
It's just something I've been thinking of, make it a little angsty?<3
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Glad you asked
ko-fi
311 notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 12 hours
Text
copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
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Text
ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau
description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)
a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any
a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!
requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys
masterlist
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liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others
youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie
tagged: glenpowell
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oscarpiastri: proud of you!!
↳ youruser: 🧡
glenpowell: caption is so real of you
user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?
↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that
↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said
landonorris: cute!
↳ user3: what are you doing here??
↳ user4: lando in the comments?
user5: such a good movie
user6: yn + glen = power duo
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liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others
oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies
tagged: youruser, glenpowell
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landonorris: i just laughed out loud
landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo
↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious
user8: cutest couple ever
glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!
↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara
↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him
// lando’s phone//
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//
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liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others
landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something
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oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?
↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs
↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??
↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!
↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard
user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando
↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others
youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)
tagged: oscarpiastri
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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES
↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now
user16: oscar and yn are endgame
oscarpiastri: the best company
↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either
↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar
user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!
↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!
glenpowell: miss you lady
↳ youruser: you miss my animals more
↳ glenpowell: and what about it.
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liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others
landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man
tagged: youruser
view all comments
oscarpiastri: believe me now?
↳ landonorris: never doubted you
↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol
↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time
user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?
↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL
youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!
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liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others
oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?
tagged: youruser
view all comments
user22: sassy oscar
↳ user23: channeling his inner lando
landonorris: yes sir 🫡
↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?
youruser: MY MANNNNN
↳ user24: oh she's in deep
user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others
youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol
tagged: oscarpiastri
view all comments
landonorris: how was i meant to know?!
↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.
glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours
↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.
↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever
↳ user27: they're in a throuple
↳ youruser: ew
↳ glenpowell: disgusting
↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh
user28: couple goals forever and ever
user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real
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527 notes · View notes
afterglowsainz · 1 day
Text
snap out of it | pepe marti
pairing: reader x pepe marti, reader x bf!franco colapinto
summary: pepe has the biggest crush on you, but you’re too into franco to notice
fc: blanca soler
request: here
a/n: for the franco girlies, i’ll write a solo franco fic soon i promise, for the pepe girlies, i’m sorry <3
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liked by pepemartiofficial, francolapinto and others
yourusername somewhere in northern italy… 🧚🏼‍♀️
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username they’re the cutest couple 💍
username best f2 wag frrr
username what does it feel to live my dream 😭
username she’s serving so much face is insane
username back to the franco boyfriend material pics let’s gooo
username bestie wake up! y/n posted franco in a photo dump again!
username my favorites 💗
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liked by yourusername, francolapinto and others
f1 BREAKING: Franco Colapinto to race the remainder of the 2024 season replacing Logan Sargeant for Williams Racing
tagged francolapinto and williamsracing
view all comments
username omg what
username this is insaneeee
username so happy for him! 💙
username ohhh i don’t know much about him but hopefully he’ll do good this season
yourusername OMG LETS FUCKING GOOOOO🔥🔥
username someone needs to pr train y/n ASAP 😭
username so happy to see more young drivers getting into f1
francolapinto 💙💙💙
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liked by paularon_, pala_montoyaa and others
yourusername not much going on, just my boyfriends last race in formula 2 before jumping to f1 and pepe’s masterclass of a driving
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username y/n back at the paddock omg i manifested this
username omg she’s hanging out with pepe again we’re sooo back
username i missed their friendship 😩
username same!
babickovaela prettiest girl 💗
yourusername that’s you 🫵🏽
username posted pepe in a photo dump AND praised him in the caption? ohhhh were so back
username no fr since she started dating franco they haven’t been together as much 😔
username maybe cause she has a boyfriend now??? idk priorities change when you start dating someone🤷🏽‍♀️
francolapinto ❤️ (liked by yourusername)
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and others
francolapinto first formula 1 weekend: check ✅
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username such a great drive!
username not bad for a rookie 😎
landonorris great drive mate! keep it up👊🏽 (liked by francolapinto)
username congratulations franco 🇦🇷
username can’t wait to see more of him!
yourusername YOU DID SO GOOD
yourusername i’m so proud of you❤️
francolapinto love you💙
username when i go to a franco’s number 1 supporter competition and my opponents are lando and y/n
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liked by francolapinto, lissiemackintosh and others
yourusername dinner nights🍷 (featuring saucy🌭)
view all comments
username ohhh i didn’t know franco was dating a baddie
username a face people would go to war for
username SAUCY <3
username i fear i’m no longer in love with franco but with y/n
username so so gorgeous it’s unreal
francolapinto demasiado hermosa❤️‍🩹 (too beautiful)
yourusername ❤️
username 👆🏽this is too cute but i miss her interactions with pepe
username no cause are they even still friends? they don’t interact with each other anymore 😔
usernameno fr bring back the pepey/n friendship!
pepemartiofficial’s instagram stories
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[caption 1: 🥳] [caption 2: 🍾🍾🍾]
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liked by pepemartiofficial, alex_albon and others
francolapinto always a lovely time in baku 🇦🇿 the place for lovebombing and space❤️‍🩹
comments on this post have been disabled
406 notes · View notes
emilys-bangs · 2 days
Note
The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !
Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.
You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.
You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘
Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3
----
Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning
Word count: 2.5k
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You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.
It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 
At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.
Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 
Everyone except you.
It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 
But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 
“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.
You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”
Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.
“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.
Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.
Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.
“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.
She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.
“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”
You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”
But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.
Your throat goes dry. 
Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.
Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.
Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.
“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 
There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.
God, you need to go to bed.
“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”
That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”
You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.
“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”
“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”
That makes you crack a smile.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.
It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.
It’s fine. Sure it is.
You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.
She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.
She’s not wearing a bra.
You’re staring.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.
“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.
She’s literally going to be the death of you.
“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.
“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.
Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 
It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.
Emily.
Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.
Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.
You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.
You should let her go. 
It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 
It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.
But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.
You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.
Fuck.
You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 
Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.
———
She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.
Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.
Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.
Emily’s eyes flutter open. 
Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 
You’re caught.
Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.
Just before you apologize, she does.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”
“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.
“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.
“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”
Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.
“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”
Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.
“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”
The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.
It only confirms your love for her.
Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 
She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.
It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.
“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.
Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.
“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”
You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”
Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”
Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.
“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”
She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.
You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 
“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”
Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.
“Never.” You whisper.
Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.
Because now, you have all the time in the world.
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days
Text
hidden lace
for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts 'sneaking around' and 'lingerie'
rated e | 18+, minors dni or i will tell your mother | 2852 words | check ao3 for all tags
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
Steve is pissed at Eddie.
Like, genuinely pissed.
Not that cute, haha my boyfriend was being annoying but I love him, pissed.
The kind where if he saw him right now, he’d do something really stupid, like yell or break up with him.
And he knew he didn’t actually want to do that.
But see, Steve had been given incorrect information about what they would be doing tonight. He’d been told they’d be having dinner alone and then going to the quarry alone and probably going back to Steve’s house alone.
When they showed up at the diner to a table full of Eddie’s bandmates, Steve’s teeth gritted together to hold back saying something much more rude than he intended.
It was fine, though, because Steve did actually like hanging out with the guys despite their rough start. They were some of the few people who knew about Steve and Eddie’s relationship, so they didn’t feel like they had to hide anything.
Well, Steve did tonight.
He was wearing his usual clothes, of course, but underneath, he was wearing a lingerie set. Something Eddie had been begging him to wear for months now, something Steve had tried on at least 20 times before only to hurry out of them because it felt too good. He figured with how much they’d be alone tonight, he could get used to the feeling of the lace against his skin at dinner and then surprise Eddie with it when they got to the quarry.
It’s all he’s thought about since Eddie picked him up.
He’s certain it’s written all over his face throughout dinner. Gareth keeps shooting him these looks like he knows Steve’s hiding something, and Jeff has asked him if he’s okay at least three times since they sat down. Frankie doesn’t say anything, but he does hand Steve a joint when no one else is looking and tells him to relax a little.
If Steve was smart, he probably would have snuck a few hits from it before Eddie got in the van.
“That was fun,” Eddie said as Steve contemplated trying to run back inside to the bathroom so he could strip the lace off and shove it into his pockets.
“Uh huh.”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you they’d be joining us, sweetheart.”
Steve gives him a half-hearted smile. “That’s okay. Um, are we seeing anyone else tonight?”
“Oh! There’s a bunch of people hanging at the quarry. I think even Robin’s gonna be there.”
Steve nods a little too enthusiastically to be convincing. “Cool. Sounds good.”
Eddie’s eyes are on him, intense. “You don’t sound happy about it. Thought you’d be a little more excited about hanging with Robin. You just told me yesterday you haven’t gotten to spend time with her outside of work for weeks.”
“No, you’re right,” Steve sighs. “I just wasn’t expecting to be…social.”
“We planned a date?” Eddie sounds genuinely confused, as if he doesn’t know the difference between hanging out one on one and in groups.
“Yeah, I just.” Steve sighs again. “It’s fine. Let’s go hang out with people.”
Eddie looks like he wants to push and understand why Steve is suddenly so worried about being around people, but Steve leans in to kiss him quickly, just a soft peck on the lips. He smiles and Eddie smiles back.
Instant distraction.
Eddie has admitted before that Steve has a way of making him go completely dumb. Some would call it dick brain, but it’s not even that he gets hard about it. He just feels like all thoughts have left the building.
Like Elvis, man,, he’d said when Robin asked what his deal was after Steve had kissed him goodbye at work.
As Eddie drives them to the quarry, Steve shifts in his seat. He’s not uncomfortable, but he definitely worries that he will be when all eyes are on him. Maybe they won’t know that he’s nearly bursting out of blush pink panties and a matching bralette that rubs against his nipples in a way that feels like Eddie’s teeth when they’re teasing him. But maybe they will.
But are his nerves because he’s worried people will know?
He can feel his dick hardening against the damp lace.
No, he doesn’t think he’s all that worried about people seeing him in lingerie.
Eddie’s door slamming is the only thing that alerts him to their arrival. He blinks and opens his door so he can hop out, but he’s immediately frozen when he feels the head of his dick rubbing against his jeans.
So maybe next time he can buy a size up. Or find some made for men. Do they make them for men?
“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice is against his ear, sending chills down his spine as his hand ghosts between his shirt and waistband. “You sure you don’t wanna go home?”
“I’m sure,” Steve shivers.
“We won’t stay for long,” he promises.
Steve just nods.
He does what he’s supposed to at these things: makes smalltalk with people he doesn’t know that well, hangs around Eddie and Robin as much as possible, smiles and laughs when appropriate.
But his brain is gone.
Well, it’s there, but it’s made of lace and the sweat beading at his brow despite the fall chill.
He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, but he thinks he’s gonna have to go soon.
Eddie’s fingers grasp his forearm.
“Steve.”
Steve looks at him.
Eddie knows.
His face is flush and his pupils are huge, looks like he would bite a bruise into Steve’s neck right now, in front of all these people.
“Van. Now.”
The van is surrounded by cars. Empty cars, but still cars that belong to people.
Steve should probably just explain what’s going on, and then maybe they could just go back to Steve’s house and never bring this up ever again.
But he doesn’t. He knows they’re about to fuck in Eddie’s van, and he knows everyone at this gathering is busy, and he thinks maybe this will be the night that someone finds out exactly what Steve and Eddie are to each other.
Eddie doesn’t let go of his arm as they walk, which puts them both at a strange angle. No one seems to notice, but Steve’s not sure he’d be aware of anyone looking their way at this point. His brain is fuzzy, and all he can think about is Eddie stripping him down to the lace barely covering him in the back of his van.
No one is near the cars when Eddie opens the backdoor of his van and gently nudges Steve inside. No one is there to see the way Eddie watches him fall face first on the blanket he keeps laid out, barely holding back a groan at the way Steve’s ass is up in the air, taunting him even while fully clothed. No one except Steve feels his heartbeat racing as Eddie closes the door and grips his calf.
“You’ve been on edge all night. I was starting to worry you were sick or I’d pissed you off, but it’s not either of those things, is it?” Eddie leans over Steve’s back, bracketing him in until he has no choice but to fall flat against the blanket. “You wanna be fucked.”
Steve whines.
“But why? You knew we’d go to your house later. You knew I’d take care of you. So why are you acting like this?” Eddie continues, breath hot against Steve’s neck.
His hand ghosts under Steve’s shirt, fingers trailing against his skin and leaving goosebumps along the way.
Steve’s breath catches when he feels Eddie’s touch pause against the line of lace across his back.
“Stevie. What’s this?” Eddie sounds much calmer than he probably is.
“It’s a…bra. It’s a bra.”
Eddie’s forehead falls to Steve’s shoulder blade, and he lets out a huff. It may be a laugh or it may be a sigh, or it may be anything else.
“I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you, sweetheart.”
His lips are soft against Steve’s neck.
Steve melts further into the blanket, but can’t completely relax until Eddie’s seen– or felt– everything.
“Um, there’s more,” he says as he starts to turn over so he can face Eddie. “And it might be a little weird and it might not even look good anymore because I’ve been hard for most of the night, but-”
Eddie silences him with a kiss to his lips, the taste of the last cigarette he smoked still on his tongue.
He keeps kissing him, even when Steve moans and bucks his hips up, seeking friction that’s easily found. His hand traces the waistband of Steve’s jeans, a fingertip dipping just past the denim to find what Steve’s been hiding.
“Oh.”
Steve smiles nervously. He knows Eddie would never make him feel bad, even if he didn’t happen to like the lingerie, but he’s still nervous. He still wants Eddie to like it, to like the way he fills them out, to like him.
“Can I see?” Eddie asks, eyes wide with awe and cheeks blushing the same pink as Steve’s panties.
Steve nods because he doesn’t think he’ll sound confident if he says anything out loud.
Eddie slides his pants off quickly, but his hands are gentle, almost reverent in the way they glide across Steve’s thighs.
He doesn’t say anything, just gestures for Steve to sit up so he can pull off his shirt.
When Steve’s been stripped down to only pink lace, he’s warm and anxious.
Eddie’s eyes don’t know where to go, zipping from his nipples barely visible through the thick floral pattern covering them down to the see-through wetness of his cock leaking through the thin material. Steve waits for him to say something, can’t interrupt whatever thoughts he’s having right now.
“You look beautiful, Stevie.”
It settles something in him, some last nerves that he knew wouldn’t go away without Eddie’s confirmation that this wasn’t a waste of time or money.
“I do?”
Eddie’s palm cups his cock through the panties. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. When did you get these?”
Steve shrugs because he doesn’t really remember anymore, and even if he did, it’s not important. What matters is that Eddie fucks him while he wears them, and that he goes to buy more on his next trip into the city.
It’s softer than Steve expected.
Eddie’s taking it slow, touching him everywhere, letting his fingers trace the patterns of the lace and smiling when Steve shivers under his attention. He seems mesmerized and Steve feels adored, loved.
Usually, Steve prefers feeling Eddie’s skin against his, but the way his clothed cock brushes against the lace panties, and the way his chest rubs against the bra, it’s a constant reminder that Steve did this to feel nice and for Eddie to look at him.
“Fuck me,” Steve whispers against his lips when he feels his stomach tighten. “Please fuck me.”
“Here? You sure you don’t want me to just suck you off?”
Steve thinks about the people crowded near the coolers and picnic tables not too far away.
“Yeah, here. I need you.”
He knows Eddie can’t resist that.
Now, Eddie’s quick, but no less gentle, as he opens Steve up on his fingers. The lube he keeps in the van is finally getting some use.
Steve arches into it, sighing out the pleasure Eddie gives, keeping as quiet as possible in case someone decides to come back to their car before they finish.
He’s got panties pushed to the side, his precum dribbling onto his stomach, and Eddie’s raspy voice in his ear telling him everything he’s gonna do to him when they’re home. Steve can get off with just this, has gotten off to this before.
“You ready?” Eddie finally asks him, pulling his fingers out so he can wipe them off and get his own pants pulled down.
“Been ready. Could’ve fucked me ten minutes ago,” Steve replies with a smirk.
His head is fuzzy, but the knowledge that they could be caught keeps him present, keeps him aware of everything happening in a way he knows he wouldn’t be if they were in the privacy of his room.
“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie jokes as he lines himself up, pushing the lace further out of the way. “I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re too soft for that tonight.”
“Someone’s feeling sappy,” Steve gasps as Eddie enters him slowly. He lifts his head to watch as Eddie bottoms out, his cock rubbing against the side of the panties. “Fuck.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Eddie groans. “You feel so good. You look so good. I wanna eat you out when we get home.”
Steve nods as his hands grip the blankets. “Yeah. I have a-” Steve whines as Eddie shifts slightly, changing the angle so he brushes against Steve’s prostate. “I have a plug.”
“How the hell did you sneak that in here?”
“Yesterday when you were in the shower,” Steve laughs breathlessly. “Fuck, Eds. So good.”
Eddie is focused now, on not coming or coming, Steve can’t be sure.
“God, you have to wear these all the time,” Eddie groans as his hand creeps up to his chest, thumb rubbing against one of Steve’s nipples. “I want you in every color. Wanna see you in red, and blue, and black, and fuckin’-- what other colors are there?”
Steve giggles. “Purple…yellow…fuck.”
Steve’s gonna come and Eddie’s gonna follow right behind him, he can tell. Eddie’s thrusts are erratic but accurate, always hitting the spot that makes black spots appear in the corner of Steve’s vision and his limbs tingle with warmth and sunshine.
“You’re so good to me, fuck, Stevie. I love you,” Eddie squeezes his thigh as he parts his legs further. “You’re mine.”
“Yours. Yours,” Steve’s head falls back as he shakes through one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had. He can’t catch his breath, and he feels overstimulated within seconds. “Eddie, need you.”
Eddie always gives him what he needs.
They’re both coming down still when someone bangs on the back door of the van. Steve sits up so quickly, he almost breaks Eddie’s nose.
“Yeah!” Steve yells, pushing Eddie off of him, barely containing a whimper when his cock is no longer filling him.
“If you two wanna get dressed before people start heading to their cars, now would be a good time!” Robin whisper-yells against the door.
“Got it!” Steve yells back, already trying to slide his pants back on despite the mess on his stomach and dripping from his hole.
Eddie places his hands on Steve’s, making him pause for a moment.
“Did you do this for me or for you?” He asks, suddenly shy.
Steve couldn’t help feeling a little proud of the fact that he was maybe the only person Eddie Munson ever got shy around.
“I did it for both of us. And I promise I’ll do it again if you let me get dressed so we don’t get caught.”
Eddie beams at him, kisses his cheek, and starts to pull his own pants back up, wincing when his boxers cling to his sensitive and wet dick.
“We’ve gotta plan better for these things,” he complains.
“I planned just fine.”
“The plug!” Eddie’s eyes widen in panic. “Where is it?”
“We don’t have time,” Steve groans, but he looks over his shoulder at the bag he keeps behind the passenger seat. It’s mostly full of snacks and Tylenol, sometimes a change of clothes if he knows he’s staying with Eddie. Last night he managed to get a plug in there. “Okay! Okay, fine. Just, go start the car.”
Eddie claps his hands together excitedly and grins. “As you wish, my liege.”
Steve rolls his eyes fondly. He reaches down to ease the plug in, biting back a whimper at the soreness he feels. They weren’t even rough tonight, couldn’t be, yet Steve feels like they just went for three rounds.
“If it hurts, don’t do it, sweetheart,” Eddie says from the driver’s seat.
“No, it’s good. I’m good,” he says as he pulls his pants up and slips his shirt on.
Eddie glances over his shoulder and frowns.
“Why the face?” Steve asks.
“I can’t see the lace.”
“Eddie…”
“I know! But I’m speeding on the way home.”
Steve slides into the passenger seat and looks out the window to make sure no one is directly next to them. When he doesn’t see anyone except Robin walking back towards the party, he leans over to kiss Eddie’s cheek.
“Thank you for letting me try something new.”
Eddie blinks over at him. “Thank me? Thank you. Holy shit, Steve. You’ve never been hotter than you are right now.”
“Okay, okay. Drive us home so I can ride you.”
“Fuck. Okay.” Eddie puts both hands on the steering wheel. “Focus, Eddie.”
“You’re such a dork,” Steve laughs.
“I’m living my dream right now.”
Steve can’t agree more.
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passenger princess
paige bueckers x fem reader
disclaimer!! i don’t usually write fics, i’m better at writing educationally (lame) but me & my friends wanted me to try something out of my comfort zone so enjoy. criticism is welcome, but be kind!
this is based off of the picture i posted of paige earlier so that’s the context (also on the banner)
tags: @rosemariiaa & @patscorner for encouraging me to do this elohel kisses to yall
enjoy 🤫
it was 10:47 am. the ac blasting throughtout your studio apartment. you tossed and turned in your bed, groaning from the lack of sleep the night before, caused by a stressful day of work yesterday, completely draining you. you were in a slump to say the least, and the only person who could help cheer you up, was your girlfriend. as you picked up your phone, it vibrated suddenly with a notification popping up, “p 💓” it read, and you opened the message.
it was a picture of her and a brand new car, a red cadillac with a black interior. after the picture comes through, another message follows.
“surprise?” it reads, and you’re shocked, not only about the fact that your girlfriend impulsively bought a new car, but how undeniably beautiful she looked.
her beautiful blonde hair, roots slowly coming through, but she made them look so good. she was clad in a gray sweatshirt despite this summer heat, and those stupid, yet adorable 2024 sunglasses you gave her for new years last year perched on her head.
as you go to text her back, you hear a knock at your front door. you fix your hair and throw your robe on, and go to answer it, while a text that just came through your phone appears.
“i’m outside”
“hi baby.” she says standing in front of you, grinning like a kid who just entered a candy store, jingling her new keys.
“paige.” you say sternly, slighting smirking at the fact that she was so excited to show you her new car. despite the fact that you and her have been dating since your sophomore year of college, she still made you nervous.
from her tall, lean figure, to her beautiful eyes that wander everytime you two see each other. she starts talking, but you can’t stop looking at her.
“baby.” she says, laughing a little. you were staring, and hadn’t heard a word she said to you.
“im sorry, did you say something?” you say, chuckling nervously, feeling embarrassed, but paige never found it embarrassing, she found it cute, matter of fact she loved it.
“i said did you wanna come ride wimmie? you gotta be the first in this car and you know that.” she tells you, leaning on your doorframe, taking you in. she looked you up and down and bit her lip, admiring you and your figure.
“of course p, lemme get dressed and fix my hair, i shouldn’t be too long.” you say sweetly, smiling at her and kissing her on the cheek.
she goes to sit on your couch, manspreading per usual, watching you walk away and into your room to find something to wear.
you rummage through your closet to find something comfortable but cute to wear, just in case you two make any stops, which you knew you would.
you do some finishing touches on your hair, leaving it down, just how paige liked it.
you walk out of your room, having a slight sway to your hips as you walk, which drove paige insane. you wore jean shorts and a black tube top, with your “p” necklace sparkling around your neck.
“jesus ma.” she says, whistling while her eyes travel all over your figure.
“what? should i change?” you asked with concern, worried you were overdressed.
“fuck no, you look beautiful, especially repping me like that,” she says, referring to the necklace with her initial on it, as she rubs her hands together and bites her lip, making you laugh.
“we can go wherever you want to mama, i filled the tank right after i left the dealership.” she grabs her lanyard with her keys attached to it out of her sweatpants pocket, and goes to open the front door for you.
“hm, there’s a new spot not too far from here, they got real good breakfast food, me and jana went the other day.”
“anything for you ma.” she tells you, sneaking a kiss in as you approach her car.
“okay this is beautiful p, and shiny as hell jesus,” you say, describing the darkish red colored car your girlfriend just impulsively bought.
“it needs a beautiful girl to sit in it y’know,” and you roll your eyes at her corniness, but you secretly love it. she opens the door for you and closes it behind you, and walks to the driver’s seat.
about 10 minutes pass and you two are almost at your destination. paige hooked up her bluetooth to her car as soon as she got it, you both listening to her playlist and singing along with the windows down and the wind blowing in your faces.
paige watched as your hair flowed in the wind, your smile so beautiful, and all she could think about what was how lucky she was, getting to see you whenever she wanted, hold you, kiss you, and be there for you, all the time.
she rested her hand on your thigh, driving with one hand, and smiling.
“baby,” you said softly.
“yeah ma?”
“i love you.”
“i love you more than anything ma, yk that.”
you two made it to the restaurant, paige disconnecting her phone from the aux, and gets out to open the door for you.
you could really get use to this new car smell, and being paige’s passenger princess for a long, long time.
I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! this might be a one time thing as i could never be too consistent but lemme know any feedback and i love you guys! 🙂‍↕️
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wonbin-truther · 2 days
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˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ ╰┈➤ let the light in
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you stood in front of mark's dorm door, tracing the wood with your gaze. “you can do this, yn. in and out” You took a deep breath, trying to psych yourself up before knocking. after a moment, the door swung open to reveal mark lee.
“hey,” you said, offering him a warm smile, which he returned.
“hey. come in.” he stepped aside, allowing you to enter.
“what did you want to talk about?” you both asked in unison, making both of you laugh.
“you can go first,” you said.
“are you sure?” mark asked, and you nodded.
“i’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I need to get this off my chest. i know you said you don’t want to talk about what happened at the party, but I really do. yn, I like you. a lot. taking care of you the next day brought back all those feelings i thought i could just ignore them but i cant. i honestly don’t even know why I got involved with somi. and I know you’re with jaemin, but… i can’t help it. i still have strong feelings for you.” mark stumbled over his words, emotion welling in his eyes.
you stared back at him, your eyes wide. “mark…”
“you don’t need to say anything. please, just don’t,” he said, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks.
moving closer, you cupped his cheek in your hand and gently wiped away his tears with your thumb. mark leaned into your touch, seeking the warmth and comfort.
“we can still be friends,” you suggested softly, but he shook his head.
“i can’t. it would eat me alive. i treated you so horribly by getting involved with somi. it isn’t fair to you.”
without realizing it, you and mark found yourselves leaning in closer and closer. it was only when your lips finally touched that you both became aware of what was happening. you quickly pulled back.
“shit, i’m sorry!” he exclaimed, jumping back.
you stared at him in stunned silence for a moment before reaching out to tug at the front of his shirt, drawing him closer again. this time, you pressed your lips to his.
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previous - main - next
synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...
tags! (closed) @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @haesungie @tommina @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr @morkiee @sehunniepot @starfilledgaze @pickmedolls @xcosmi @slayhaechan @neozon3nha @nneteyamss @lionzyon @jakeslucifer @bbina @winwintea
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flowersforbucky · 1 day
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logan howlett x reader
a late night thunderstorm and some questions about what never was and what could be.
a/n: i don't even know what came over me, i just needed to jot this down and get it out of my system. i'm so fond of the "reader being in love with original logan and then meeting worst logan" trope. may or may not expand on this soon!
warnings/tags: not explicit but mdni, tension and longing, minor angst, no use of y/n, 750 words
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“How well did you know him, exactly?”
You knew the question would come. Truthfully, you're surprised he hasn't asked already. And yet, you're still not prepared to answer.
You pour yourself another glass of wine, hoping for an ounce of liquid confidence to get you through this conversation.
The oven timer begins to beep, nearly inaudible over the roar of the wind and rain that beats down against your windows. He watches you from his seat across the kitchen island. Not in a way that makes you feel pressured to respond - there's patience and understanding in the way he looks at you in the dim lighting of your small kitchen.
Well enough to know he deserved more than this life ever gave him.
You think these words, but keep your mouth shut, pursing your lips. Instead, you turn to the oven behind you and quiet the incessant beeping before sliding your hand into an oven mitt and pulling out the roast chicken and vegetables that you had thrown together.
“You don't have to answer that,” Logan says into the thick silence. “I'm sorry. Let's talk about someth–”
“No, it's okay,” you stop him, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter. You're still turned away from him, but you can feel his stare on your backside. You reach up to a cabinet above you, pulling out two plates before turning back to face him.
“I want to talk about him. Really, I do. It's just been a long time since I have.”
He watches as you divide up the food and slide a full plate across the island to him. You can't help but feel a sense of deja vu - you've cooked for this face before. You've served these crinkled hazel eyes this exact meal before, what feels like a lifetime ago.
But for the person sitting before you, this is a first.
“We were close,” you finally continue after clearing your throat, your voice rising an octave on the word close. “Close enough for me to miss him very much.”
You don’t elaborate any further. You don’t tell him of all the almosts and what ifs that run through your mind at the mere mention of his name.
“Is it difficult for you?” he asks in a hesitant voice. “To look at me and see him? To be near me?”
You don’t answer right away. You grab your plate of food and walk around to the other side of the counter, to join him where he sits. You pull out the barstool next to him and sit so that your body is angled towards him. He puts his fork down, giving you his full attention.
The air in the room suddenly feels heavy. You’re close enough that his leg brushes against the side of yours and a shiver runs down your spine.
“Yes,” you admit in a whisper. “It is difficult. But at the same time, I can’t help but want it.”
You can’t quite bring yourself to say you.
“I felt guilty for it at first,” you continue. He watches you with more understanding than you feel you deserve. “For wanting to be around you, to get to know you,” you clarify. “It felt like I was just looking for him in you, and that wasn’t fair to you.”
He extends a hand to where your own rests on your knee. He covers yours with his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes flutter closed at the warmth and familiarity and you selfishly hope that he doesn’t pull away.
“But then I got to know you, and I learned all of the ways that the two of you are similar, but more importantly, I learned all of the ways that you're different. And the differences didn't matter to me. I still wanted to be around you just as much. Even more.”
You take your free hand and place it on top of his. You stare down at where your hands are stacked together, tracing a thick vein from his knuckle to his wrist with the tip of your finger.
“I never told Logan how I felt about him. He and I.. missed our chance to be anything more than what we were. I don't want to make that mistake again.”
He brings his other hand to your face, cupping your jawline in his palm. You can't help but melt into the touch. He tilts your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“You don't have to.”
•••
thanks for reading 💕💕
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silkscream · 1 day
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triple seven
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ੈ✩ megumi fushiguro x reader
ੈ✩ synopsis: megumi thought it was for the best when he ended things with you. boy, was he wrong.
ੈ✩ tags: fwb, pining, teasing, mentions of virginity loss, sub!megumi, bratty and dom!reader, masturbation, vaginal sex, riding
ੈ✩ wc: 3.8k
ੈ✩ a/n: this started out as something completely different and then i lost the plot bc i wanted to see megumi squirm. unedited. oopsie
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“Megumi.”
He winces when you wave your hand in front of his face, snapping his attention back to earth. He was staring at your legs and zoned out. Again. 
“What’s with you?”
“Sleep-deprived,” he mumbles. He’s not wrong. 
Megumi has been having trouble sleeping lately and it’s only partially your fault. Most of it is pent-up energy. Sometimes his usual malaise would wax and wane, other times it would linger and grow into a different beast entirely. He felt like he was constantly on a short fuse lately, and it didn’t help that Gojo was teasing him more and more about you. 
Not to mention that the thought of you alone would keep him up. The two of you hadn’t fucked in a month — the last time  (to Megumi’s chagrin)  he had sex at all. He liked you enough to kiss you and considered you a closer friend than most. Months ago, he wanted to get the whole losing your virginity thing over with, so you volunteered. And it was good. 
Fuck, it was great. He couldn’t get you out of his head and he hated it. 
He knows it’s something more. He refuses to admit it. After his first time, he’d meditated for days over it — did you pity him? Were you just easy? Did you like him? He wasn’t sure if you had any previous relationships. Something small and shriveled inside of him wanted to disappear, hoping that he was special for getting your attention. You were the first person to take him apart wholly, the first to make him come undone. Willingly.
And you kept coming back. Two months and he was full of you, a parasite that he couldn’t get out of his system. 
His gaze fixates on the curve of your bare shoulder. Your collarbone. You’re wearing a tank top and sweatpants and he wants to curse you for it. He feels like he’s fucking sixteen.
“You should get some sleep, then,” you say with concern. “You don’t have to stay, y’know.”
“No!” he says a bit too quickly. “I’m– I’m fine. Just… distracted. Sorry.”
You narrow your eyes, sizing him up. It makes his heart skip.
“Something’s bothering you. What is it?” you tilt your head. 
He could spill his feelings into word vomit. He could. But he refuses to. He wouldn’t be able to deal with the consequences. The humiliation. You only slept with him for so long to throw him a bone — it wasn’t like you were into him. He has to keep telling himself this, to talk down the slow-cooking heat in his gut that taunts him. It made him break things off in the first place. He couldn’t take it, was averse to this odd softness that fluttered in his chest every time you smiled at him.
After a particularly intimate night, one that ended with the both of you cuddling — he wasn’t someone who cuddled, for Christ’s sake — he panicked and made a dumb, boyish excuse to break things off. I don’t want anything serious. I don’t want to lead you on. You, being an angel, were very agreeable while Megumi’s heart felt like a fucking dumpster fire. Devastatingly so.
You’re usually sincere. Blunt to a fault, but he likes that about you. He admires the fire in your eyes when you say exactly what you mean, not caring about what others think. He likes how your eyes light up when you argue about anything, even something trivial, because you know you’ll win with your wit alone. He likes —
Fuck. He likes you.
Megumi swallows a lump in his throat and it feels like an oversized pill. One for a reality check. His heart is pounding and his palms are sweating and you’re looking at him very expectantly, waiting. He doesn’t have an answer for you. 
Unbeknownst to him, you already have an idea.
“Megs,” you chuckle, punching him lightly on the shoulder. 
“Don’t call me that,” he scowls. 
He can’t help the uncontrollable blush rising on his face. He’s always hated his paleness for this reason. There are light bruises where there shouldn’t be because he doesn’t usually lose fights, but he was so distracted during his sparring match with you this afternoon that he’d humiliated himself. You pinned him down like it was nothing and he was hard as a rock all the way to the locker rooms.
“What? Megs?” 
He feels his irritation rise. 
“Yes. It’s annoying.”
You scoff. 
“You always do that,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“Do what?”
“Scoff like that. Like you don’t take anything I say seriously.”
You frown and it makes him feel guilty. 
“I never said that. Why are you so moody all of a sudden?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. What’s wrong? Are you mad I beat you in training today?”
“No!” he grits. “And that wasn’t – you just caught me off guard!”
“Ha. Okay, asshole.”
Megumi glares at you, left eye twitching. He would always get into petty arguments like this, especially when the two of you were still fucking. It would end with him restraining you — you let him, often taunted him until he did it, because you knew he was a control freak. He hated that he could feel his pants tighten at the memories conjuring  in his mind while you sat there, brow raised and challenging him. He wanted to pin you down.
He blinks, deciding to glare at the floor instead. He shouldn’t be thinking about sex while he’s fighting with you. Was he even fighting with you? He was annoyed. Annoyed and frustrated and ready to strangle you if you pushed him further, which he sensed you were about to do just because you could.
“Seriously, what’s up with you?” you pout. “You won’t even look at me.”
“God. Shut up.”
“Thought you liked my mouth wide open,” you taunt.
That one pisses Megumi off. You were always so carefree, so crass, not bothering to care about anything that came out of your mouth whether you meant it or not. Megumi didn’t hate it, exactly, but he found it ironic that it bothered him when he’d grown up so abrasive. All jagged edges, the middle school bully. And yet, he was always quiet and stoic and calculated now. He wouldn’t dare say something so… vulgar. 
He clenches his jaw and refuses to look at you. Again, his gaze falls on your bare skin. He wants to mark it up, sink his teeth in you to show you a lesson, but he knows you’d probably like that, the brat you are. Maybe you’d let him just once – you’re goading him anyway, right?
“Are you trying to push my buttons on purpose?” he scoffs. “I’ve had a shitty day and you’re not helping.”
“Then just talk about it.”
“It’s fine,” he huffs. “Doesn’t matter anyway.”
You roll your eyes.
“What?”
“What?” you repeat innocently. He was seeing red and you knew it. It was secretly refreshing to Megumi that you never backed down from him, didn’t care that he would be mean. You could always be meaner.
“Don’t mock me.”
“Jesus. I thought we were studying. Now you’re acting like Nobara when she’s on her period.”
“I just feel… frustrated, okay?”  he says. “I don’t know.”
He braces himself for what you’ll say next. Probably roll your eyes again, call him bitch boy. 
“Haven’t found anyone else to suck your dick yet?” you mutter.
“Excuse me?”
You stare at him, your gaze descending slowly. It’s only then that Megumi realizes he’s hard. 
“Fuck you,” he replies. He doesn’t know what else to say. 
“Bet you wanna.”
“No. We’re not. We’re not doing that anymore, remember?” he says bitterly. His body is humming with need, suddenly desperate now that you’ve clocked his arousal, but he won’t let you know. 
“Yeah, but you want it,” you snort, rubbing his thigh with your hand. He shivers at the contact and curses under his breath that maybe Itadori or Gojo will demand his presence for no reason so he can get out of your room without trying.
He stares at your fingers drumming a pattern on his pant leg. Long fingers, manicured nicely from your girl trips with Kugisaki. There’s a ring on your middle finger that he won you a month ago from a claw machine. Silver-plated plastic, if he had to guess, but the signet is still shiny. Triple sevens engraved for good luck. 
“You still wear that?”
You look down at your hand. “Oh, this? Yeah. It’s probably the only ring I own.”
Megumi takes your hand and  examines the way the plastic glistens when the lamp on your bedside table hits it right. He hums, almost satisfied. 
“Why?” he blurts out.
You blink at him. “Uh, I don’t know. One of the few gifts I’ve gotten that I can wear, I guess. It’s cute.”
He exhales and nods slowly. He curls your fingers into a fist and sets your hand down.
You cough awkwardly, eyeing his crotch. “You’re, uh—”
“Shut up,” he mumbles. 
“I can help. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
Megumi doesn’t realize how close he’s leaning in. He could bump noses with you if he leans in just a few inches. He could taste your breath if he wanted. He clears his throat, not protesting when your hand grazes his thigh again and moves upward.
“Fine,” he mumbles. 
“Really?” 
“Yeah,” he breathes.
You scan his face, looking for a sign of hesitation. When you don’t find one, you kneel on the floor, your body in between his legs as you pull down the zipper of his pants. You palm him gently and watch his reaction.
“F-Fuck,” Megumi gasps. 
“Sensitive,” you mumble, moving your head to hover against his thick length. He nearly chokes when you descend with your tongue swirling at his tip.
He blinks down at you, eyes wide at the revelation that you’re on your knees for him. He takes a fistful of your hair and tugs gently.
“Wait, wait–”
You pause. “What?”
“Um.”
“You don’t want it?”
“Of course I want it. I just don’t — I don’t wanna use you like this,” he mumbles. 
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You don’t — you don’t have to. Really. I can deal with it myself.”
You narrow your eyes, pumping him slowly. “Yeah?”
He gasps sharply, his entire body tensing up at the sensation. 
“Fuck, don’t — I can take care of it. I’ll just — I can go,” he mutters, his voice strangled. “I don’t need – nngh –”
You let go of him. “Okay.”
He whines as you let him go, his hips suddenly bucking up in an aborted attempt to get you to touch him again. 
“No – wait,” he gasps, closing his eyes as he gets himself back under control. “Don’t… don’t do that.”
“You want to take care of it yourself, don’t you?”
He lets out a frustrated huff, the expression on his face almost pained. 
“I can’t,” he murmurs, meeting your eyes. He’s desperate, you notice. His green eyes are pleading. He’s never been like this before. “I won’t be able to do it. I’ll just end up thinking about you.”
Your eyes widen. “You still think about me?”
Megumi’s face is struck with panic, realizing his confession. He can’t take it back now, not when his cock is hard and leaking and you’re right in front of him. He gives you a withering look and grips the sheets beneath him. 
“Say it.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I think about you.”
“How often?” you breathe, rubbing his thigh.
“All the time,” he strains, his eyes glued to your face. “Even when I ended things, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt fucking crazy. I still do.”
You swallow, leaning back onto your pillows. “I’m here now. You can look at me.”
“I don’t want to just look at you,” he grumbles. “I want — ugh.”
“You want what?”
He grits his teeth, too prideful to beg for your touch, though he knows he’s already too far gone with how much he’s given away. He needs you, aches for your fingers wrapped around his cock, for your mouth. He feels stupid for denying it and he doesn’t know how to convince you to help him without sounding like a desperate idiot.
He mumbles unintelligibly, leaning forward to reach for you, but you take his wrist and gently press it down to the mattress in rejection. His eyes flicker with worry.
“What are you doing?” he exasperates.
“Focus on yourself.”
Megumi blushes. Pink permeates his pale flesh like diluted blood.  He must sound so needy, so pathetic when he hasn’t even gauged what you want. You’d offered to take care of him, but he’s still panicking about whether you meant it. 
You were always more comfortable about sex, and it’s not like you had a crush on him. You just had more experience. It was why you bothered sleeping with him in the first place, he reminds himself. 
“I–”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” you coo, smiling softly. “I can see you’re aching. Keep going. I wanna see you.”
He almost whines as his shoulders tense up at your words. Megumi is walking on a thin tightrope and he isn’t sure if you’re there to reassure him or ready to push him off the edge. Either way, he is aching for it. For anything, for you. 
“You’re enjoying this. You’re taunting me.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
He looks at you, huffing out an exasperated breath as he contemplates what to do. He needs to relieve himself, but he wants you to do it. He doesn’t want to give in and start stroking himself despite your encouragement — it makes him feel like a stupid little doll.
“I– I want to touch you,” he mutters.
“Touch yourself first.”
He lets out a noise between a groan and a scoff. His hand wraps around his shaft, but he doesn’t move. He gasps lightly when you grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him, leaving him to pull off the fabric until he’s completely bare.
“You’re just — going to watch?” he chokes out.
“Yeah.”
“You’re crazy.”
“And yet you’re still this fucking hard,” you scoff.
He groans at your words. Your attitude had always turned him on, despite how annoying he found it. He liked you defiant, bratty. This side of you is a completely different realm entirely.
“Stop… staring at me,” he rasps as he slowly strokes himself. “It’s weird.”
“What, is my face distracting you?”
“Yes.”
You roll your eyes and begin to strip. “Fine. Don’t look at my face then.”
His breath catches as your bare skin is revealed with each pull of fabric until you’re completely nude. He’s seen you naked so many times before — he doesn’t know why it feels like the first time right now. He can’t help but watch you intently, mesmerized. 
When you smirk, he huffs and averts his eyes. “You’re the fucking worst, you know that?”
He gasps when you lean over his lap and spit on his cock. The drool coming from your lips is such a filthy sight that he could probably come just from seeing it. He shuts his eyes tightly for a second. 
“Go on, baby,” you coo. 
Megumi lets out a frustrated breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he pumps himself. 
“Why are you just watching?”
“I wanna see what you look like when you miss me.”
The grin on your face is so fucking sinister that it almost makes him nervous. Mostly it turns him on. He doesn’t even know why he’s complying – it’s not like you’ve fucking tied him up. He could stop this sick little game right now and pin you to the bed and overpower you. Maybe fuck you until you’re red all over and panting. But he can’t find it in himself to do anything other than what you want.
He’s aching and desperate. Why are you punishing him, anyway? Sure, he could be a bit of an asshole, but it’s not like he broke your heart any more than you broke his by fucking existing and looking like that —
Your hand rubs his bare thigh gently and he moans. He moans from the contact like a bitch and you laugh. 
“Damn,” you chuckle. “Someone missed me.”
“Shut up,” he mutters. “You know I – fuck – you know I missed you. I wanna touch you instead, fuck –”
“I know, baby,” you coo. Your hand is so close to where he wants it and his brain short-circuits.
“You don’t have to just watch,” he pleads without trying to sound completely pathetic, but it’s hard when he’s rigorously stroking himself, affected by your mere presence. He feels like he’s going to explode.
Your hand slowly inches towards his cock and he involuntarily bucks his hips up. He lets out a strangled groan when he realizes that he’s so, so close. Your touch feels so far away. He feels like he might start crying.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” you praise him. 
He bite backs a moan and grits his teeth. His knuckles are bone-white as he squeezes his cock. “I’m not your — ugh — sweetheart —”
“Yeah, you are,” you tease. “You’re my baby, aren’t you?”
He whines as his hand moves even faster on himself. His other hand clenches around the sheets of the bed, grasping at nothing.
“Yeah,” he admits, breathless. “I’m yours – fuck – I’ll be anything you want if you just… let me touch you. Please –”
“You’re doing so well on your own, baby.”
“Fuck, stop talking,” Megumi groans. “I need you. I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t feel you —”
“I’ll let you kiss me, how about that? But you can’t touch me.”
He whines again hysterically, though he knows there’s no room to argue with you. He leans in. You laugh before you step forward and tower over him. You grab his chin roughly to kiss him. He makes a low, strangled sound as he leans in, aching to touch you but mentally berating himself. He knows you’d swat him away and stop kissing him if he tried anything. 
You break away from the kiss but keep a hand around his throat.  He whimpers at the loss of your mouth, easing into a gasp when he feels the squeeze of your fingers around his neck. His gaze is longing as he looks up, mouth parted. 
“Keep going, baby. You’re close, aren’t you?” you whisper.
“Please,” he gasps, hips bucking up as if expecting friction from anything other than his own hand. He’s never needed anything as much as he’s needed you at this moment. It burns hot in his gut and up to his head, making him lightheaded. “Please let me touch you… wanna feel you…”
“Shh,” you coo, kissing his cheek. “You can come, can’t you? You’re almost there.”
He nods and closes his eyes. “I need–”
“You need me? You want me, yeah? Show me.”
“Fuck, I need you,” Megumi pants. “Want you so bad. I love you. Please, please –”
Your eyes widen at his admission. Megumi is so delirious with want that you almost don’t recognize him – you know that he would usually blush at a confession like that, especially one  he didn’t mean. But he still looks at you with dark eyes, silently begging. 
You kiss him deeply and he moans. His other hand holds you firmly, snakes into your hair to get a good grasp of you so you can’t move away from his mouth. The hand on his cock moves at a brutal pace, his breaths coming out in ragged grunts. Fuck, he needs you so badly it hurts.
“Don’t cry, baby.”
“I can’t help it,” he says, voice breaking. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable before. His breath is trembling as his body shakes. “I need you, I need you, please…”
You grab his wrists forcefully and sink down onto him. His eyes widen at the feeling of your cunt around him. It’s too good. It feels like a fucking dream, how warm and wet you are, and he knows he’s had you so many times before, but it still  feels like the first time. He’s been denying himself this pleasure and now you’ve given him heaven. 
“Fuck, fucking love you, love how you feel,” he rambles, barely intelligible for you to understand clearly. You’re clinging to him, bouncing on his cock until his eyes roll back. He doesn’t even realize the tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you gasp.
“Me too,” Megumi grunts, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he moves you back and forth on his cock. He’s struggling to make coherent sentences, coherent thoughts. He can feel your approaching orgasm and groans when you finally tighten around him.
The sounds you make when you come push him over the edge. He spills inside of you, his head pounding blood from his ears from the dizzying rush that comes. It’s all too much. He lets out a strangled gasp as he digs his fingertips into the skin of your waist as if he’s afraid you’ll fly away. 
You slump into his chest, arms around his neck tightly. The air is filled with your mutual heavy breaths, air warm with carnal tension. He doesn’t have the guts to look at your face, but he doesn’t have it in him to let you go. 
Megumi lifts his head and exhales into your mouth. You’re so close to him, noses touching, and he has to resist the urge to kiss you. He buries his face into your neck instead, craving the smell of your sweat, of dryer sheet sweetness. Even after such an intense release, he wants more. Wants to trap you in his arms so that you can never leave him again, tape your mouth shut so you don’t argue with him. He doesn’t want to explain himself.
You hum, cheek grazing the outline of his jaw in a cat-like embrace. Megumi closes his eyes.
“You said you loved me.”
He says nothing. His body stills.
“It’s okay if you didn’t mean it,” you whisper.
“What if I did?”
You lift your head to look at him head-on. Your expression is unfathomable. A familiar face that he wants to grasp in his mind, keep forever, though he isn’t sure if you’re about to slip away.
“Then the feeling is mutual,” you mutter.
“Then... then I do mean it.”
Your mouth quirks up, almost into a smile, in between a sneer. “If you’re lying, I’ll kill you.”
“I’m not lying,” Megumi gruffs. “And if I was such a coward that I said otherwise, I’d let you kill me.”
You laugh, then. It’s like flowers blooming, like his heart growing too big for his chest.
“I’ll hold you to that, baby.”
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avatar-anna · 2 days
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please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺
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Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist
August 2013
In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.
“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.
When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.
“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.
She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”
“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”
“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.
“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”
Y/n grinned. “Of course.”
“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.
Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.
Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"
Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"
"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.
"Hm."
"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.
"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.
Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."
"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."
Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.
"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.
Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."
"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.
"Do you not like flying?"
Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."
"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.
"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."
"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."
His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.
Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.
"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."
And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”
“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.
“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”
“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.
"We're about to find out."
Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.
When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”
*.*
Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.
Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.
“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”
Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.
He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.
“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”
“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”
“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”
Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.
“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.
Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…
“I can cancel—”
“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”
“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.
She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.
“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.
“If you’re sure,” she said.
“I’m sure.”
“Next time, then,” she offered.
Harry smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.
“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”
Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”
*.*
Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.
And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.
For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.
And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.
It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.
“Can I help you?”
It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.
“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”
“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”
Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.
So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.
“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”
That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.
Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.
Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.
*.*
The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.
"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."
After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.
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simp-ly-writes · 2 days
Text
The Comment Section (pt.5)
─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic
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Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader
─ · · SUMMARY: You and Spencer get invited to another convention and host a panel; the fans are ecstatic and you have never felt so high, so happy and truly carefree in your life that makes you do things you would have no considered doing...
─ · · TAGS: SPOILERS IN TAGS!! gender-neutral pronouns, angst, social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at comedy, alcohol consumption, slowburn, light swearing, kissing, fluff, mutual pinning, friends that act like lovers, friends/lovers.
─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART FOUR | PART 4.5 | PART SIX
─ · · A/N: will they... won't they...
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🔔 angelagiovanagiarratana, just added to their story, check it out!
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Much Time Later...
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CreatorCon please give a warm welcome to our newest additions to this years panel roster: (name) and Spencer Agnew from Smosh! 🎉
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username99 not to be the grammer police or anything but you should also put (name)'s last name if you are putting Spencer's down since they are both not married 😬
↳ username01 shhh let them join the ✨ delusions ✨ ↳ username84 grammAr not grammer* ↳ username99 shut up 😘
username32 please bring back Brennan Lee Mulligan again!! I am on my hands and knees begging you, please!!!
username22 spencer helping (name) up the stairs and (name) holding the door for them afterwards is just so sweet 🥹
username48 hopefully the V.I.P passes actually work this time around
↳ CreaterCon we are so sorry to hear this, please send us a direct message to let us know what we can do to further improve your experience. ↳ username48 fix your shit. ❤️
username10 what is going on?? what about the Theorists panel, does anyone know where that got moved to?? I can't find any info on the websites or socials 😭
username50 love the line up (so far!) would like to see even more members of the Smosh family though. But I am really looking forward to this!!
username43 those crowd questions about to go crazy, too bad though they will probs limit their personal life stuff.
username19 they about to make a whole 1000+ people crowd third wheel, now that is talent 👏👏👏
smosh thank you for having them both for the weekend, us parents need a break every now and then
↳ smoshpit yes, please take them for us. PLEASE 🙏 ↳ ianhecox (but seriously don't actually, they make us a lot of money) ↳ smoshgames wait, why am i just finding this out now 😭 ↳ username67 for once i am actually fine with company account commenting, what is going on?!?!?
(name)s_username so excited to attend, thank you for having me and my "husband" 🤣
username71 OMG after last years PAX and CreatorClash events I am SOOO READY FOR THESE TWO AGAIN. ORGANIZERS ARE IN THE KNOW ABOUT (NAME) AND SPENCER, (YOURSHIPNAME) FOREVERRRRR!!!!!!!
spennser we are never escaping the allegations...
↳ (name)s_username never 🤣 ↳ username44 (yourshipname) actually addressing (yourshipname) directly?? never thought i would live to see the day! ↳ username01 we take this as them admitting feelings... right... right? ↳ username39 touch grass.
username29 Does anyone know what they are willing to sign or if they are signing stuff this year??
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🔔 SmoshCast just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.
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What is the best movie? (definitively)
Smosh Cast ✓ [Subscribed] Like 128k | Dislike | ... 582K subscribers 488k views 2 days ago #7 on trending (name) and Spencer debate the greatest form of every media. from movies to tv shows, video games and music; listeners are in for a wild ride.
2,222 Comments
username56 2 days ago Really missing Amanda and Shayne doing the weekly episodes, but I guess I can survive on (name) and Spencer... username77 2 days ago Why is nobody talking about how outstandingly (name) preformed in their movie?!?! I just watched it this weekend and was floored by their preformance. I'm surprised it didn't get any further mention in the videos! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username62 2 days ago I am shocked that a youtuber, nevertheless a comedian could portray such range and subtle expressions- it was beautiful even with what little screen time they had in comparison to others. They took away every scene they were in! ↳ username88 1 day ago I really hope they receive recognition, I really think (name) could make it mainstream. I mean, their connections alone from starring in this but be crazy. ↳ username19 1 day ago Im a selfish fan I will admit, I wouldn't want them to leave Smosh for other projects. In all honesty I could not image not having them in front of or in the background of Smosh videos. I mean could you even think of how Spencer would react?? They are stuck to each other like glue. ↳ username33 1 day ago they both are adults, i'm sure they could work something out. (name) shouldn't be held back from becoming something greater (even though they are great now!) because of the "kinda" relationships they are in. ↳ username20 1 day ago I think time will tell us the answers. But I really hope that (name) considers all their options... username01 2 days ago I have been living for all these play fighting and argument videos of the two of them. Like they have chemistry, a degree of hate for one another in some ways (but like healthy silly hate)- i'm pulling out my hair more and more as to why they won't just kiss already!! username67 2 days ago Okay but (name)'s take are 100% based. homebro/girl knows what they are speaking about and never missed ▼ 31 replies ↳ username72 1 day ago Yeah but I think Spencer's take was more well rounded especially in the TV Shows argument. ↳ username22 1 day ago Couples Therapist Here, I just like how they can argue so civilly with one another and really show active listening with one another. Take the eye-contact, small head nods, and inclined seating with restating what they said and expanding upon it. Its beautiful really plus they both know a lot about their field so that helps too I guess. ↳ username88 1 day ago OMG please make a full video break down of one of their videos together, it would do really well!! ↳ username10 1 day ago Yes, Please!! username27 12 hours ago Okay, but we all known that the best video game is Purble Place. username50 30 minutes ago I can't wait to hear from you both in person, have it marked on my calendar!! username91 1 hour ago cringe. username43 5 hours ago Okay but now I need tier lists on them together. Video Concept #1: (name) and Spencer rank every time they almost fell in love and the one time/multiple times they really did. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username66 1 hour ago Officially am deceased XD ↳ username21 1 hour ago Video Concept #2: (name) and Spencer rank every hangout that was actually a date username74 30 minutes ago why am I crying when the video ended?? Like I want whatever this is.
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🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!
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Liked by spennser, co_mill, anthonypadilla and others
(name)s_username it was awesome meeting everyone, same time next year? 😄❤️
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CreatorCon let's make it a date? 😉
↳ (name)s_username noooo, not again! 😩 🏃‍♂️💨 ↳ username41 bwahahahhahahah!!! ↳ chickenshopdate oi!! 💢😡 ↳ (name)s_username ummm, now this is awkward... 😬
username88 was not long enough, i could listen to the two of you speak all day. defiantly worth the money!!
tomeybones i don't think florescent lighting was anyones light but you shine beautifully in it!
username48 glen powell's character should have gotten back with you at the end of the movie, you both had better chemistry!! Its giving La La Land all over again 😭
co_mill wished we could have made it but great work bestie, you killed it up there!! ❤️❤️
↳ (name)s_username aww thank u! would have loved having you there too ❤️❤️
username40 okay google, play "can't help but falling in love with you." move out of the way spenser, if you don't want them- i'll glady take (name)!
spennser good job fellow "spouse" 👍
↳ (name)s_username yes, you as well, "spouse" 👍 ↳ username01 okay, but this is just straight up cruel 😭
anthonypadilla i didn't see anything appear in the news so good work team!
damien_haas so as I was stuck in the signing booths you both were playing with paper airplanes and arm wrestleing?? What fairness is this?? /sarcastic positive
username71 OMG how did I just discover you now and miss a chance of meeting you?!?!?
username60 please tell me that there's a sequel coming out, I refuse to accept that you didn't re-marry him in the film 😭
phatchance excuse me but I know these two people packing out a 2000 person panel and they are the coolest ❤️
username31 I was too scared to ask anything because you both are just such pretty people like holy crap I love you both so much, you all mean the world to me and thank you so much for the hug. I am never washing the coat now
↳ username77 so that went progressively down hill lol
username12 Day 1.4 million of asking, just get together, or fuck, or something, anything but this (or breaking up for that matter) with Spencer. Like get it together.
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🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!
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🔔 alex_tran's story is no longer available.
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🔔 (name)s_username's story is no longer available.
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🔔 SmoshPit just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.
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Sneaking into Concerts??? (Two Truths, One Lie)
Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 79k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 370k views 1 weeks ago
7,889 Comments
username31 1 week ago I know I sound like a broken record but it feels weird not having Spencer or (name) in front of camera for once. I got so used to them always being part of the cast like Courtney or Ian. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username29 1 week ago I think around the 12 minute mark, Courtney said something about them both calling in sick. ↳ username73 1 week ago I mean... did you see their stories with one another last night? They both were properly wasted LMAO ↳ username90 30 minutes ago (name) is such a cute drunk, just complimenting and flirting with everyone until Spencer asks them to shut up or hugs them. Damien and Alex really had their work cut out for them hahahha! ↳ username20 4 hours ago Okay but external videos also show they dancing together and grabbing waters its so wholesome that even when heavily drunk they are constantly thinking about one another username88 1 day ago Would have never thought Anthony would have been the one to sneak into a festival! username28 12 hours ago Did anyone manage to catch (name)'s or alex's story last night or was I just seeing things before it got taken down?? ▼ 301 replies ↳ username90 30 minutes ago OMG YES! I threw my phone in shock!! Should've taken a screenshot I am kicking myself rn. ↳ username01 30 minutes ago I. am. not. okay. physically and emotionally after this. username55 4 days ago HAHHAHA "sick." hmmm sure (name) and spencer, sure...
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🔔 (Yourshipname) Updates just uploaded!
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"Drunk Minds Speak A Sober Heart:" A (yourshipname) Edit
(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | ... 1.12K subscribers 499k views 1 week ago #2 on trending click to expand
14,119 Comments
⚲ Pinned by Creator (yourshipname)updates ✓ 1 week ago I will take this video down if requested by either (name) or Spencer but for now... MWAHAHHAHA they have kissed with photo evidence!! ▼ 173 replies ↳ username97 1 hour ago I think I have just ascended. This is truly one of the best days of my life. Take this all your non-believers and haters!!! Amazing edit BTW! ↳ username11 1 week ago I don't think they are going to bring it up anywhere but a small victory is a victory nonetheless. I see this as a mission success boys!! ↳ username01 1 week ago I am happier for them and their still non-relationship than my own long term one hahahhaa ↳ username27 12 hours ago I am in disbelief, I never thought they would. I don't care if they were both hella drunk, they actually kissed?!?!? Like I don't know how to process this information. ↳ username13 12 hours ago fwehd0dfygdkospfhjhgf ↳ username44 just now eloquently said. username23 1 week ago 12 years of pining for one drunk kiss, I'll take it gosh darn it! username90 4 days ago Am currently re-watching all the edits and past moments while having this picture on the side monitor. I am living in a peak moment rn. username80 2 days ago I called my mom to tell her about this and she cheered as well. usernmae32 just now (name) just confirmed on their twitter that them, spencer and the rest of the smosh crew are all going to the oscars! ▼ 4 replies ↳ username13 just now Yes!!! LETS FREAKING GOOOOO!!!! username60 4 days ago This will go down as one of the greatest love stories in the history of the internet; i need movies, more fanfiction, music, and more fanart!! username78 10 hours ago happy for them, truly.
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─ · · A/N: 😉
─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria
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robertwaltons · 2 days
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behold: the doomed unrequited waltonstein manifesto courtesy of twitter user ustfile
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syluslnd · 9 hours
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Hello I'm sorry if you're not taking requests. But please please if you are can you make the part 2 of Sylus as an online sugar daddy meeting with his sugar baby.
But please ignore it if you don't take requests and your writing is SOOO GOODD. Have a nice day!!
Sylus meeting with his online sugar baby
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(note-you sent this a while back when I first started posting so I hope you’re still around lol I’m sorry for taking so long🤍)
Tags • virgin reader,sugar daddy sylus,verbal teasing,fingering,climaxing
5k word count (I got carried away sorry)
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Sylus himself couldn't even believe he was doing this. It wasn’t just a waste of time for him; he never thought he’d be the type to seek out a woman, especially in a place like this but something about you intrigued him in a way he couldn't ignore.
As he leaned against his sleek black car outside the arcade the neon lights flickered, illuminating the faces of the young couples and friends inside. He felt out of place the leader of Onychinus waiting in a childish venue a stark contrast to his usual world of power and control.
He glanced at his watch, the minutes stretching painfully. He was serious about this arrangement, after all. He had his reasons, practical ones—companionship, a distraction from the relentless pressure of his life. But he couldn't deny the thrill of meeting you, the allure of stepping into a world so different from his own.
The sound of laughter drew his attention, and then he saw you approaching. Your smile was bright, a refreshing contrast to the shadows that usually loomed around him. You looked confident almost carefree as you made your way toward him.
“Hi! sorry if I kept you waiting,” you said your voice light and cheerful,opposite of how he’s used to people greeting him.
“It’s fine,” Sylus replied, maintaining his serious demeanor. “I’m just getting used to this.”
“This?” you asked, gesturing around the arcade. “I get it,It’s not exactly your usual scene.”
He finally met your gaze, feeling a flicker of something unexpected—curiosity, perhaps. “I’m not here for the games sweetie”.
You smiled at his straightforwardness, your cheerful demeanor undeterred by his serious tone. “I figured,but the games are kind of fun! You should try one!”
Sylus raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unwilling to show it. “I doubt I’d find much enjoyment in... this.” He gestured around, feeling a mix of irritation and fascination at how different your world was.
You chuckled softly, the sound warming the chilly air between you. “You might be surprised,It’s nice to escape sometimes.” There was a glimmer in your eyes that caught him off guard.
“Escape?” he echoed, feeling the weight of his own reality settle back over him. “I’m not sure that’s possible for me.”
Your expression shifted slightly, the playful light dimming as you regarded him more seriously. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted, his voice sharper than intended. He didn’t want to scare you away, but vulnerability was foreign territory for him.
You looked at him, studying his chiseled features and the tension that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you said softly, as if sensing the walls he’d erected around himself.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” he replied, a hint of angst creeping into his tone. It was a reminder of the danger he lived in, the enemies lurking in shadows,never being able to be off guard . “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Your gaze remained steady, unwavering. “and yet here I am,Isn’t that the thrill of it? To step outside our comfort zones?”
“Thrill,” he muttered, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “More like recklessness.” But even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the instinct to protect you, to shield your brightness from his dark world.
You tilted your head, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “You’re so serious sylus,what are you afraid of?”
He hesitated, the weight of his duality pressing down. “That I’ll lose you, kitten.” The admission surprised even him. He didn’t know you well, yet there was something about you that ignited an urgency within him.
Your smile returned, softer now, disarming his cold demeanor. “I’m not going anywhere,not yet at least.”
For the first time, Sylus felt a crack in his armor. Perhaps this sugar daddy arrangement was about more than just companionship; it was a chance to explore a connection that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
As you took a step closer, he felt an instinctive need to draw you nearer, to keep you safe. “Let’s get out of here,” he said abruptly, surprising even himself with the sudden protective urge.
You blinked, a mix of confusion and excitement dancing across your face. “Where to?”
“Somewhere... away from all this.”
And with that, the tension shifted. Sylus realized he was no longer just a mafia boss seeking distraction; he was a man drawn to someone who could bring light into his otherwise shadowed existence.
As sylus drove you to the hotel, the tension in the car was palpable, a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The neon lights outside blurred by, but all he could focus on was the way you shifted in your seat, a nervous smile playing on your lips.
Once inside the hotel, he led you to a private suite, the door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality. The room was elegantly furnished, dim lighting casting a warm glow. You looked around, your earlier cheerfulness tempered by a hint of shyness.
“What happened to the lively little kitten I met at the arcade?” Sylus teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “You seemed so confident, and now...”
You bit your lip, glancing at the floor. “I don’t know! It’s just… different, you know?”
“Different,how so kitten?” He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”
“No, it’s not that” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. “It’s just... you’re a bit intimidating.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Intimidating? Sweetie, I promise I’m just a guy, a guy who’s curious about why you’re suddenly so shy.”
You took a breath, trying to regain some confidence. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be here, with you, like this.”
“Is that so?” He leaned against the edge of the bed, arms crossed, the teasing glint in his eyes intensifying. “I would’ve thought you’d be eager to explore every aspect of this arrangement.”
“Explore?” you echoed, feeling your cheeks heat.
“Yeah, you know,” he said, a playful smirk on his lips. “Try out all the fun things you can’t do over the phone .”
Your heart raced and you glanced away, flustered. “I—”
“Come on, kitten,” he coaxed, stepping closer again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you a little more innocent than you let on? Is that what this is about?”
You froze, your mind racing. “Um, well, I—”
“Are you a virgin, sweetie?” His words hung in the air, a teasing challenge that made you blush even deeper.
Your eyes widened, caught off guard. “I… maybe?” The admission slipped out before you could stop it, and you felt utterly exposed.
Sylus raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, that explains the shyness,but it’s cute,” he said, leaning in closer a playful glint in his eye. “I didn’t realize I was dealing with such an innocent little thing.”
You shifted your weight, heart pounding. “Stop it!” you protested, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “You’re making me feel like a kid!”
“Maybe you are,” he teased, his tone light but his gaze serious. “But don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
Your stomach fluttered at his words, a mix of excitement and nervousness washing over you. “You’re such a meanie!” you said, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably.
“I’m just having a little fun, sweetie,” he replied, his voice low and inviting. “You’re adorable when you blush like that. I could get used to this.”
The playful banter hung in the air, creating an electric atmosphere. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself slowly crumbling. “Maybe I’ll show you more of my personality if you promise to be nice,” you offered, your voice teasing back.
“Oh, I’ll be nice,” he promised, stepping back slightly to give you space. “But I can’t make any guarantees about being gentle.”
You bit your lip, trying to suppress the thrill that raced through you at his words. “I guess I’ll have to hold you to that.”
And in that moment, amidst the teasing and the laughter, something shifted between you, a connection deepening beneath the playful facade. Sylus felt a flicker of something he hadn’t anticipated—an urge to protect not just your innocence, but also to cherish the light you brought into his dark world.
Sylus moved towards you, the teasing smile on his lips fading just enough for his expression to darken, a serious intensity taking over. He crossed the room slowly, closing the space between the two of you, and before you could react, his hands were on your waist. With a firm but gentle grip, he lifted you effortlessly and plopped you onto the bed. The air left your lungs in a quiet gasp and for a moment, you were caught off guard by how swiftly he moved.
“Sweetie,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something lower, something that made the room feel smaller. His gaze locked on yours, the playfulness still there but laced with a seriousness that hadn’t been present before. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”
You swallowed hard, the nervousness creeping back in as he loomed over you. “I… I think I do.”
He smirked, but there was something almost sad in it. “You think, huh?” His thumb brushed lightly against your waist as he knelt onto the bed, his hands still holding you in place. “Kitten, I’ve been playing this game for a long time. I know when someone’s out of their depth.”
The teasing edge in his tone made your heart race, but there was a weight behind his words that made you shift beneath him, uneasy but drawn in all the same.
“You’re a sweet little thing,” he said, his voice almost tender, though his words held a darker undertone. “Too sweet for someone like me. This isn’t like those playful messages online, sweetheart. I live in a world that’s... far from innocent.”
Your breath caught as his fingers trailed up your side, the motion almost soothing despite the tension in the air. “But you… you still want me here, don’t you?”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I want you, kitten. More than I should,but I worry about what happens if you stay in my world too long.”
You blinked, trying to steady yourself, your mind spinning. “What do you mean?”
Sylus pulled back slightly, his face hovering just inches from yours. The smirk returned, but his eyes were shadowed, conflicted. “You see, I’ve got my fun little games, but outside of this room? My life isn’t soft. It’s sharp edges and shadows..and you” he said, brushing a thumb over your cheek, “you’re too innocent,you don’t belong in that darkness.”
Your stomach tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. “I can handle it. I’m not a kid.”
He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it this time. “You’re not a kid, but you’re pure, and I’m not.” His hand found its way to your chin, tilting your head so your eyes met his. “You think being my sugar baby is all fun and games. But in person? It’s different. You’re not just playing with me anymore, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”
Your pulse quickened as he shifted his weight, pinning you gently beneath him. “And what if I want to get burned?” you whispered, feeling bolder in the heat of the moment.
For a second, his expression softened, and his fingers threaded through your hair as he gazed down at you with a mix of affection and regret. “Careful what you wish for, sweetie,” he murmured. “I might just give it to you.”
Despite the teasing, there was an undeniable protectiveness in the way he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull you closer or keep you at arm’s length. It was as if he feared that pulling you too far into his world would extinguish the light you carried—something that had begun to matter to him in ways he wasn’t prepared to admit.
And in that moment, you realized Sylus wasn’t just worried about what he could do to you. He was worried about what his world could do to someone like you.
Sylus hovered above you, his eyes flickering between restraint and desire, that teasing smirk playing on his lips as if he was holding himself back. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric, his fingers still gently grazing your cheek. Despite all his playful words and sly smirks, you could see it—he was hesitating, his dark world swirling in his mind, wondering if pulling you closer would be a mistake.
For a moment, you bit your lip, considering what to do. But something inside you shifted. If Sylus wasn’t going to make the move, you would.
With a sudden burst of boldness, you reached up and cupped the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes widened in surprise, the smirk faltering just slightly as you pulled him closer, your lips hovering inches from his.
“I’m not as fragile as you think, Sylus,” you whispered, your voice steady even though your heart pounded in your chest. “I can handle whatever you throw at me.”
For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if caught completely off guard by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker, something hungry.
“Oh, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, “you think you’re being serious, don’t you?”
You kept your grip firm on the back of his neck, refusing to back down. “I am serious.”
The way his eyes softened at your determined expression made your stomach flip. He found you adorable—your attempt at taking control only seemed to amuse him more. “Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with affection and a hint of that ever-present teasing. “So tough, huh?”
Before you could say anything else, Sylus closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His hands, which had been holding you so delicately, tightened their grip, pulling you flush against him.
Your boldness evaporated as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a wave of flustered heat. The intensity of his kiss left you dizzy and though you had initiated this, you quickly realized you were in over your head. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment.
He broke the kiss just long enough to chuckle against your lips, his breath warm as he whispered, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You’re the one who made the move.”
You could barely respond, too flustered to form words. He loved it—he could see it in your wide eyes, the way your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. You’d been so bold just moments before, but now? Now, you were back to being the adorable, innocent girl that had him wrapped around her finger.
Sylus leaned in again, this time brushing his lips over your cheek, down to your jaw, his voice a low, teasing rumble. “So cute when you’re all shy like this.”
Your hands trembled slightly, but you held onto him, trying not to completely melt under his touch. “I’m not… shy” you mumbled, but the words came out weak, betraying how flustered you really were.
“Oh, sure” he teased, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “Is that why you can’t even look me in the eyes right now?”
You wanted to protest, to regain some sense of composure but before you could, his hand slid down from your waist, trailing over your hip, slow and deliberate. His touch sent a shock of heat through you, and you instinctively arched toward him, though the movement only made you feel more embarrassed.
Sylus grinned against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you responded to him. “What happened to handling everything, kitten? Still think you’re in control?”
The way he spoke, his voice thick with amusement and a teasing edge, made it clear he was fully aware of the effect he had on you. He wanted to push you, see how far he could take it.
His hand slid lower, his fingers brushing over the curve of your thigh, teasing you just enough to leave you breathless. He pulled back just slightly, his face hovering above yours, his eyes scanning your flushed expression with a mixture of fondness and wicked delight.
“You look so cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, his tone soft but with that same edge. “But you’re not ready for the things I want to do to you, are you?”
Your breath caught in your throat, but you met his gaze, determined not to back down completely. “Try me,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky.
Sylus chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, slower this time, savoring the moment. “Oh, kitten,” he whispered between kisses, “you’re going to be so much fun.”
Sylus hovered over you, his lips barely leaving yours as he deepened the kiss, drawing out every flustered breath and soft sound you made. His hand, still trailing over your thigh, paused, fingers curling just enough to make you squirm beneath him. He pulled back, only an inch, enough to look at you with that knowing smirk—the one that told you he had complete control of the situation, no matter how much you’d tried to take charge.
“You really think you’re ready for this?” he asked, voice low, dark, but still teasing. His hand slid higher, resting on the bare skin just beneath the hem of your dress, his thumb brushing in soft circles that made it impossible to focus.
You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest, but you managed to meet his gaze with more boldness than you felt. “Yea,I can handle it.”
For a second, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, his smirk softened into something more, something almost affectionate. “You’re adorable,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Trying so hard to be brave.”
Before you could respond, his hand gripped your thigh a little tighter, drawing a soft gasp from you. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your neck. “But you don’t have to pretend with me, kitten. I know exactly how to get under your skin.”
The teasing lilt in his voice sent a thrill through you, and though you wanted to hold onto that boldness, the way his fingers danced across your skin made it impossible to keep up the act. Your breath quickened, and you could feel the heat rising in your face as his touch became more deliberate, more confident.
“See?” he murmured, his lips brushing over your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “You’re already trembling, sweetie. I told you… you’re not ready for this.”
His words were a challenge, but they weren’t mocking. It was as if he was genuinely testing you, seeing how far you’d go before backing down. And despite the way he was unraveling you, you weren’t ready to surrender just yet.
“I can handle you,” you whispered, though the quiver in your voice betrayed your confidence.
Sylus chuckled softly, his lips moving up to your ear, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through you. “Is that right?” His hand slid even higher, fingers brushing dangerously close to places that made you gasp. “Then why do you sound so nervous, kitten?”
Your face burned, and you instinctively bit your lip to stop the soft whimper threatening to escape. But Sylus wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily. His lips were back at your neck, pressing a lingering kiss there before whispering, “I love how quiet you get when you’re flustered. It’s like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”
You could feel the warmth of his smile against your skin and it made your pulse race even faster. His hand moved deliberately now, tracing the edge of your inner thigh, teasing but not giving you what you secretly craved. It was maddening how in control he was, how effortlessly he played with your reactions.
“You’re so easy to read, sweetie,” he said, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression both amused and intense. “I could keep this up all night, just watching you squirm.”
You couldn’t help it—your face flushed a deep red and you looked away, embarrassed by how easily he was getting to you. But Sylus wouldn’t let you escape that easily. He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning your face back to his.
“Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, though no less intense. “I want to see every expression, every little blush. It’s too cute to miss.”
The tenderness in his words made your chest tighten, but there was still a darkness to them, a possessiveness that left you breathless. You were caught between the soft affection he was showing you and the overwhelming heat of his touch and you were losing, fast.
“I can’t…” you started, but the words fell apart as he leaned down, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. His hand slid higher, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear, and you gasped into his mouth, your body arching involuntarily toward him.
He broke the kiss just to smirk against your lips, clearly loving the way you were reacting. “Can’t what, sweetie?” he teased, his breath mingling with yours. “You were so sure you could handle it.”
Your mind was spinning, and though you’d started this, it was clear that Sylus had taken control completely. But despite how flustered you were, you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more, even if you could barely keep up with him.
“I can handle it,” you whispered, more determined now, though your voice shook.
Sylus smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned down again, this time his lips brushing just beneath your ear. “You’re so stubborn, kitten. I like that about you.”
Then, his hand slid down, tracing a slow, torturous path along your inner thigh. His touch was light, teasing, just enough to leave you aching for more but never giving in completely.
“But you still have so much to learn.”
Sylus’s smirk deepened as he watched your breath hitch, every little movement you made betraying just how much he was affecting you. His fingers, still tracing delicate patterns along your inner thigh, were slow, deliberate, and maddeningly teasing. Every time he got close enough to make your heart race, he’d pull back just a little, dragging out your anticipation until it felt unbearable.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped lower, sending a thrill down your spine. “You’re trembling already, kitten. You’re not used to this, are you? No one’s touched you like this before.”
You didn’t trust yourself to respond, but that only made his smile grow. He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your neck, letting the heat from his lips sink into your skin. His free hand slid up to your waist, gripping just firm enough to make you arch toward him instinctively. He knew exactly how to play with your body, how to drive you wild without even giving you what you wanted.
Sylus pulled back just slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and the intensity in them made your stomach flip. He tilted his head, watching every flustered expression cross your face, drinking in the way your lips parted, the soft, breathless sounds that escaped you.
“Still think you can handle me?” he whispered, his voice rich with amusement, but his touch told a different story—it was heavier now, more intent.
You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible with him this close. His fingers trailed back up your thigh, higher this time, slipping just beneath the edge of your underwear, the movement slow, teasing.
The sensation made you gasp, your body instinctively pushing closer to his. That small, desperate movement wasn’t lost on Sylus. He grinned, clearly loving how much you were craving his touch now.
“You’re not as innocent as you act, are you, kitten?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin. “Look at how you’re moving for me. You’re not shy now, are you?”
His words sent a wave of heat through you, and though you wanted to hold onto that boldness from earlier, you couldn’t deny how flustered you were under his control. Your body was betraying you, responding to every touch, every low whisper and Sylus was enjoying every second of it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, but he didn’t kiss you—not yet. He stayed there, close enough that you could feel his breath, the teasing proximity making your pulse quicken.
“You’re going to have to ask for it,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “If you want more, sweetie, you’re going to have to tell me.”
Your mind was spinning, but the heat of the moment made it impossible to think clearly. Sylus’s hand was still tormenting you, fingers barely brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs, teasing you in a way that made it hard to form words.
“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as his touch grew more deliberate, his fingers moving in slow, torturous circles that left you breathless.
“Come on, kitten,” he coaxed, his lips grazing your jaw, his voice dripping with amusement. “I know you want it. Just say it.”
You could barely breathe, let alone speak, but the way he was looking at you, the way his touch had you completely at his mercy, left you no choice. “Please,” you whispered, your voice shaky.
“Please what?” he asked, his tone smug, but his touch never faltered. “You have to tell me exactly what you want.”
Your heart raced as the words hovered on the tip of your tongue, but Sylus wasn’t going to give you any relief until you said it. He waited, his touch slow and deliberate, every movement sending shocks through your body.
“I want… more,” you finally breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.
His smirk grew, clearly satisfied with your answer. “That’s a good girl” he murmured, and without warning, his fingers slid fully beneath the fabric, pressing against the heat of your body.
The sensation made you gasp, your back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure shot through you. Sylus’s hand moved with deliberate precision, his touch confident and unrelenting. He watched your reaction with a dark, predatory gleam in his eyes, clearly reveling in the way you responded to him.
“You’re so sensitive, kitten,” he whispered, his voice low and husky as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles. “I could make you come just like this, couldn’t I? Just by playing with you a little.”
Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath him, and you hated how much truth there was in his words. The heat was building inside you and the way Sylus’s fingers moved—slow but intentional, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—had you desperate for release.
But he wasn’t going to make it that easy for you.
Just when you were about to lose yourself completely, Sylus’s hand stilled, pulling back just enough to leave you breathless and aching. You let out a soft, frustrated whimper, but Sylus only smiled, leaning down to press a teasing kiss to your lips.
“Oh, sweetie,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with dark amusement. “I told you, I’m not going to be gentle. I want to see just how far I can push you.”
Sylus watched you squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the way you were unraveling under his touch. His lips ghosted over your neck, sending shivers through your body, while his hand lingered just out of reach, keeping you on edge. Your breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, your body aching for him to push you further.
“Look at you, kitten,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with wicked intent. “So desperate already… all from a little teasing.”
You whimpered in frustration, your hips moving involuntarily toward his hand, silently begging him for more. But Sylus wasn’t going to give in that easily. He smirked against your skin, his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive spot between your legs, but not applying enough pressure to give you what you wanted.
“I could keep you like this all night,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just on the edge, begging for more. But…” His hand slid back into place, pressing more firmly now, drawing a gasp from you as he began moving again, slow and deliberate, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. “…I want to hear you scream my name.”
His fingers worked with maddening precision, moving in slow, rhythmic circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. Every touch, every stroke, was pushing you higher, closer to the point of no return. Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the heat coiled tight inside you, ready to snap.
“That's it, sweetie,” Sylus whispered, his voice dark and enticing. “I can feel it. You’re so close, aren’t you?”
You could barely respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation building inside you. Your fingers gripped the sheets, your body trembling beneath him as his pace quickened, his touch becoming more relentless, more intense.
“Sylus…” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his tone both commanding and teasing. “I want to hear you say my name when you come.”
His words sent a thrill through you, and before you knew it, the wave hit you. Your body tensed, then shattered, pleasure crashing through you in overwhelming waves. You cried out his name, your voice shaky, breathless, as your body gave in to the intense release.
Sylus didn’t stop. His fingers kept moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were trembling and gasping for breath, completely undone beneath him. Only then did he slow, pulling back just enough to leave you sensitive and spent, but still aching for more.
As your body came down from the high, Sylus grinned down at you, clearly pleased with the way he had unraveled you so completely. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, and that familiar teasing smirk was back on his lips.
“You look so cute when you’re a mess like this,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Was that what you wanted, kitten? Or did I push you too far?”
You could barely speak, still trying to catch your breath, but Sylus didn’t need a response. He chuckled softly, his hand trailing lazily down your thigh as he watched your flushed, exhausted expression.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his tone both affectionate and mocking. “I’ll take it easy on you… next time.”
He pulled back slightly, his fingers still brushing over your skin in slow, teasing strokes that made you shudder even in your sensitive state. “But you’ve got a lot to learn if you think you can keep up with me.”
You looked up at him, still dazed from the intensity of your climax, and Sylus’s smirk only deepened. He leaned down, kissing the corner of your mouth before whispering against your lips, “You’re mine now, kitten. And I’m not done with you yet.”
Before you could respond, he slid his hand away completely, leaving you breathless and aching, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent
“We’re just getting started,” he teased, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips as he watched the lingering need in your eyes. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
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pentechnics · 2 days
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Can't Get Enough
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pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader rating: E | explicit | 18+ only word count: ~1,200 tags: nsfw, hate sex, angry sex, penetrative sex, throat/breath play, rough sex, multiple orgasms, angst, reader and din hate each other yet can't get enough, din makes you sad, no physical descriptions of reader, no y/n
notes: This isn't my usual style, but I just kinda had to get some stuff out. Not really edited or fully flushed out, for that matter. But hopefully posting something new will help me get further in my other work! I have something due for the d20 writing challenge and I am so sorry that one hasn't happened dfghjsfkl
taglist under the cut❤️
He slammed you against the wall with a loud thunk.
Your throat was sore from exertion, your pulse quickening with each groan he released.
His hand found your neck again and held tight, forcing you to look into that visor and see your own lust-blown gaze reflected back at you.
Fuck, he pissed you off. He got to see you like this, but you didn’t. Every time you two wound up like this, it felt like another charge added to an invisible tab. Like he owed you something, because you always gave him everything.
The thought was brief, soon vanquished by another angry thrust, pain and pleasure melding together and turning your brain to mush.
You peered in deeper, willing his eyes to show themselves. You channeled every ounce of mental energy you had left into him – how much he hurt you, how angry he made you. How angry you were at yourself to have given into this again.
And why? Nothing ever changed. He’d come over, both of you would be pissed as all hell, take it out on each other, and then he’d leave. Neither of you walked away feeling any better.
… You never stopped to wonder why he kept coming back. It took two to keep this up, after all. You sucked on his thumb when he stuck it in your mouth, wrapping your legs around him to bring him deeper into you.
You hated this. You hated that it always came down to this for you to feel something. Ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been searching for something, but hell if you knew what it was.
You hated that he was still your answer. You surely didn’t love him anymore, but you hated that you still needed him.
Especially because he doesn’t need you.
He rammed into you, deeper and deeper, sending you into convulsions. You screamed into the humid air, grasping at his shoulders for dear life.
His own cries followed, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing into the darkness. He pried you off the wall and threw you down on the bed, putting the full force of his weight into each delicious stroke.
You couldn’t help the whines that spilled out of you. He had a way of dragging out every single sensation until you were drowning in it all. Drowning in him.
It was infuriating.
You pulled yourself up to his shoulder, kissing and biting at his salty skin. A gorgeous, vindicating sense of pride soared through you when he let out a whimper. 
You liked to think you were the only one who could make him do that.
It made him pound harder into you. Your bite matched, his skin muffling your screams.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you panted.
“Yeah?”
You nodded.
“Good.”
He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Swears piled out of you. Your heart was pounding, your blood on fire. He had the nerve to fucking chuckle.
“You like that, don’t you?”
 “Bastard.”
He did it again. You wailed.
“Shit,” he whispered.
Any wittiness he had was gone. His pace became manic, one goal in mind. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to ram his cock against your g-spot.
“Close your fucking eyes,” he growled, pressing a hand over them.
The sensations grew stronger without the distraction of sight. Especially after hearing the familiar hiss of his helmet and feeling the subsequent mouth on your neck.
Your moan echoed around you both. Your hand came up to press against his head.
“Din-“
Your orgasm erupted without warning. He used his hold on your head to press you into the mattress, fucking you through it without relent.
“Yes, keep coming, baby.”
Wave after wave of pleasure had your legs flailing and your back arching. Stars appeared before you. The onset of tears built up behind your eyes.
“I’m not fucking done,” he mumbled.
His free hand began to swirl your clit. You thought you couldn’t scream any louder, yet he proved you wrong.
Your muscles tensed up all over again, that sweet coil threatening to break with each tiny movement.
“You better fucking come again,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was holding himself back.
The combination of thrusting and tight circles on your clit had you coming undone again with ease. Your second release was stronger, your body’s convulsions all the more erratic.
But he didn’t stop.
His hand left your eyes to grip your hips, and you had to fight with yourself to keep from looking at him.
“One. More.”
He pulled you to the edge of the bed and dragged you onto his cock over and over. The new angle was steeper, hitting something deeper inside that you weren’t aware existed.
“Oh god,” you sighed. “Right there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whined.
He let out a groan and picked up the speed. You threw your arm over your eyes, afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself for much longer.
His breath was labored, accentuated with deep heaving. He wasn’t going to last much longer, which meant—
“Runnin’ out of time, baby, you better give me one more.”
You squealed with each pulse of contact with your g-spot, but his words made a bead of annoyance interrupt your trance.
No, you thought. You’re not gonna get what you want this time.
You squeezed your muscles, clenching his cock tighter between your walls.
“FUCK,” he shouted. “Feels so good-”
His grunts were too much to bear, each one scratching that sweet spot in your brain that went straight to your pussy, but you had to hold back. He had to break first. You gripped the sheets with your free hand and clenched your jaw, desperate to keep the impending third orgasm down.
His grip on you tightened.
“Oh, fuck you,” he spat.
“You already are, dumbass.”
You didn't recognize the graininess of your own voice. But what came after told you it worked.
He leaned over you and continued the rapid pace, both of you moaning into the air just before coming in a heap of screams and roars.
He buried his head beside yours as he rode out his pleasure, taking yours with it.
He eventually slowed to a stop, standing back up and taking care to pull out the condom with his spend without spilling, just as he did every time.
You heard the plop of it getting thrown in the trash before he leaned over you once more, caging in your frame with his arms.
“Look at me.”
“I haven’t heard the helmet-”
“Look. At me.”
Even through his labored breathing, his voice was unwavering. He put his hands on either side of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his when you did peek your eyes open.
The tiny amount of air that had replenished in your lungs was gone.
He was a vision: skin glowing with sweat, eyebrows scrunched with a crease in the middle, sharp cheekbones and a hooked nose…
… But those fucking brown eyes. They were just downright unfair.
You put your hands over his wrists to keep his hold in place. A glimmer of hope dared to emerge in your head – is he letting you see him because he actually did care? Was there still something in him that loved you?
But then he let out a deep chuckle. Your heart broke all over again.
Why’d I even bother?
“You’ll never get enough, will you?”
You gulped. It always came down to this. But this time, you’d seen the truth.
Not only was this his last playing card, but you had a winning hand.
A confident grin bloomed across your face, the satisfaction already tasting so sweet now that you got to say this directly to his actual face. You’d get to see that smug expression die.
You’d get to finally be the one to let him down.
“Neither can you.”
****
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sencrose · 2 days
Text
— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?
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pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki
tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny
wc: 3.2k
summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.
a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here
tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart
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You do not know what your husband sees in you. 
It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 
You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 
With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 
Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were, or who they could have been. 
What an honor, you were told. 
So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?
You left most things behind. 
Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 
“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”
She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 
It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 
You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 
But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.
“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 
She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”
You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.
As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 
Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 
His touch is few and far between. 
To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 
It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.
Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 
Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 
Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 
As if you weren’t his wife. 
It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 
But your mother’s words haunt you. 
You don’t want to be greedy. 
For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.
You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  
A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.
It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.
Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 
You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 
The similarities start and end there. 
Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 
Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 
Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.
Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.
Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.
But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.
You don’t walk away fast enough.
When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 
You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.
You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.
You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.
Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.
You meet her eyes again. 
She laughs. 
It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.
Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.
You’re cursed. 
How pitiful. 
You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?
A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.
“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”
He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 
Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 
You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 
You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.
But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.
He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.
Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.
“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.
“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 
Time freezes.
Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 
Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.
You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.
Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.
You don’t want to be greedy.
A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?
Because that’s not how I raised you?
Because that’s not a woman’s place?
Because that’s not what makes a good wife?
But none of it sounds quite right.
And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 
You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 
It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.
Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 
It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.
Because all you will be left with is disappointment.
Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 
His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.
There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 
Something about him seems more impatient than usual.
He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.
“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.
Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.
“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 
You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.
“You like this, don’t you?”
You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.
“Mhm,” you hum softly.
“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.
His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.
He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 
“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”
The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.
Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.
“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”
Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 
Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 
You know what your husband sees in you.
You wish you didn’t see it too. 
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