#made these while lightheaded (still am)

[runaxee]

Stupid toon sketches

Sighhh I love them they are so stupid I wish they were real

(PERSONAL ISH SHIT IF U DONT RLLY CARE SKIP)

Sodium has been fucking me up lowk, I cant think correctly and im drowsy asf 💔💔 I wasn't able to draw because I felt so sick bro 💔💔💔 I def gaf abt what I eat now 🕊🕊🕊 Be careful and take care of yourself even if you are at the lowest 🔥🔥🔥

I need more Flip.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[theonottsbxtch]

MATCH MADE IN HELL PT1 | MV1

an: i am slowly finally finishing off all my requests and this was one of them, i had so much fun and my dear friend loved reading this so i hope i did justice to the request. anyway max hmu x

wc: 2.2k

part two | part three

THE CHAMPAGNE WAS STILL STICKY when she found out.

She had spent the past hour celebrating—laughing, grinning until her cheeks ached, drinking in the sight of thousands of fans chanting her name. World Champion. The first female Formula 1 World Champion. The words tasted sweeter than the bubbly that had been poured over her head on the podium.

And then it all shattered.

She hadn’t even been looking for it. Her phone had been left abandoned in the motorhome while she basked in the euphoria of her win. It was only when she returned, still buzzing from the adrenaline, that she saw the messages. A handful of texts from a friend, a link, and a simple message that made her stomach turn cold.

I’m so sorry. You deserve better.

Curious, still lightheaded with joy, she clicked the link.

And there it was. Photos. A grainy shot of Nathan at a club in Monaco three months ago, another in Dubai during the summer break, then one just last week in Austin. Always with the same woman. A brunette with legs for days and a familiar smirk. Someone from the team, if she wasn’t mistaken.

Her throat closed up, fingers trembling as she scrolled, every image a knife to the gut. It wasn’t just a drunken mistake. It was calculated. Repeated. Lied about.

Nathan fucking Donovan. Her teammate. Her fiancé. The man she had trusted with her heart, her career, her future.

The sound of the paddock outside was muffled, drowned out by the rushing in her ears as she dropped her phone. For years, she had turned down every offer from Red Bull. They had been calling since her first podium, since her first win. They had wanted her, but she had always said no. Because of Nathan. Because she had wanted to win with him. Because they were a team, a partnership, a power couple.

She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.

She had been a fool.

By the time she lifted her head, the decision was made. She wiped her damp hands on her race suit and reached for her phone. The Mercedes crest on her chest suddenly felt suffocating, like a brand that no longer belonged to her.

Her fingers moved with a steadiness that surprised her as she typed out a message to her agent.

Call Red Bull. I’m ready to talk.

That was six months ago.

Now, she had her foot down on full throttle, fighting her teammate.

The roar of the Red Bull RB20’s engine vibrated through her bones as she flicked the car into the corner, tyres screaming as they clung to the edge of grip. Ahead of her, her teammate—Max Verstappen, two-time world champion and an arrogant bastard on his best days—held position, defending like his life depended on it.

It had been like this all season. A relentless, brutal fight for the title. They had the fastest car on the grid, Red Bull’s latest engineering marvel, but they weren’t teammates in any real sense of the word. No teamwork. No cooperation. Just war.

And she was winning.

Six months ago, she'd walked out of Mercedes with her head held high, ringless finger curled into a fist. The world had lost its mind. The media had spun its stories, her ex-fiancé—Nathan Donovan, lying, cheating, spineless piece of shit—had played the heartbroken victim, and the fans had taken sides. But she hadn’t cared then, and she didn’t care now.

Let them talk.

She’d spent years at Mercedes, loyal to a fault, standing by Nathan’s side because she’d thought they were a team, on and off the track. And he’d thrown it away. Lied to her face. Made a fool of her.

So, she’d made sure to humiliate him in return.

Signing with Red Bull had been the first strike. The second had been selling the place they lived in, after all it was in her name - not her problem that he had nowhere to live for two months.

Now, the third was coming—because with two races left in the season, she was leading the championship. And Nathan? A non-factor.

The thought made her press harder on the throttle. The car twitched under her, skimming the edge of disaster, but she held it steady. She was close. A tenth behind Verstappen, closing fast.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” her race engineer crackled through the radio.

She smirked.

Too late.

The gap was nothing now. Less than a tenth.

She was right on Max’s gearbox, weaving slightly in his mirrors, making sure he knew she was there. The car felt alive beneath her, the Red Bull’s aerodynamics biting into the tarmac, begging to be unleashed.

Final lap. Final sector.

Max was still defending, but she could see the cracks. He was too focused on keeping her behind, positioning his car to block, reacting rather than attacking. And that was his mistake.

She took the wider line into the penultimate corner, knowing he’d cover the inside. Then, in a move that was either genius or madness, she lifted off ever so slightly, making him think he’d done enough—before throwing everything into the exit.

Tyres screamed, her car twitched—then hooked. She got the drive she needed, rocketing past him just before the final turn.

Too late for him to do anything.

The chequered flag waved. She crossed the line first.

“YES!” Her own voice rang through the radio, pure adrenaline and triumph. “Fucking get in!”

Her engineer was shouting in her ear, the Red Bull garage was on their feet, and somewhere, she knew, Nathan was watching. Watching as she won. Watching as she proved, once again, that she was better than him.

The thought made the victory even sweeter.

She pulled up into parc fermé, hands shaking with the aftershock of adrenaline as she switched off the car. A second later, Max’s Red Bull rolled in beside her, stopping with just enough aggression to make his frustration clear.

She smirked.

Helmet still on, she climbed out, raising a fist to the cheering crowd before stepping onto the scales. Cameras flashed, capturing every second. She could already imagine the headlines.

She turned just as Max yanked off his helmet, dark blonde hair a mess, jaw clenched. He took one look at her, exhaled sharply through his nose, then muttered, “Fucking hell.”

She grinned. “That’s what you get for leaving the door open.”

His eyes narrowed. “That was not a door. That was a crack in the wall.”

She shrugged. “Still got through, didn’t I?”

Max let out a sharp breath, shaking his head, but there was something else in his expression. Not just frustration. Something almost… impressed.

He wouldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. But she could see it, clear as day.

And the best part?

No matter how much of an arse he could be, she knew one thing for certain: he hated Nathan as much as she did.

banner-

The post-race press conference was the usual mix of adrenaline, exhaustion, and barely concealed hostility.

She sat in the middle, winner’s seat, hands wrapped around a bottle of water, pretending to listen as the moderator rattled off formalities. Max was to her left, arms crossed, jaw still set in frustration. Charles—third place finisher—was on her right, mostly just happy to be there.

The first few questions were routine. Race strategy, tyre management, overtaking opportunities. She answered smoothly, flashing the occasional smirk at Max whenever someone mentioned her overtake. Each time, his jaw tightened just a little more.

Then, inevitably, someone brought up Nathan.

A journalist from one of the more sensationalist outlets leaned forward, microphone in hand, voice dripping with feigned innocence.

“Amazing drive today, congratulations. Obviously, this is a huge result in the championship fight, but I have to ask—do you think your performance this season has been motivated at all by… personal matters? Specifically, your past relationship with Nathan Carter?”

The air in the room shifted.

She had heard a lot of bullshit in these pressers, but this? This was almost impressive in how blatant it was.

She opened her mouth, already crafting the sharpest, most dismissive response possible—

But Max got there first.

He leaned forward, elbow on the table, voice dripping with casual disdain.

“Yeah, mate, I’m sure she’s leading the championship because of her ex. Not because she’s fucking fast or anything.” He raised a brow. “You want to ask me if my performance is motivated by my tragic breakup in 2022? Or is this just reserved for women?”

Silence.

The journalist blinked, momentarily stunned. Then stammered, “I—I was just—”

Max tilted his head. “Just what?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting back a smirk.

The moderator swiftly cut in, moving things along, but the damage was done. The clip would be everywhere within the hour, and Max knew it. He settled back in his chair, arms crossed once again, looking completely unbothered.

She glanced at him, just briefly.

Still not friends. But maybe, just maybe, a little less like enemies.

After the press conference, she barely made it two steps out the door before Max fell into step beside her.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, casually twisting the cap off his water bottle.

She snorted. “For what?”

He gave her a pointed look. “For shutting down that absolute cunt before you could say something that’d get you fined.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“Clearly.” He took a sip of water. “But I like watching them.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She wasn’t about to admit it, but watching that journalist’s face crumble had been the highlight of her day—besides the win, obviously. And Max had delivered it with all the effortless arrogance of a man who lived to piss people off.

They reached their driver rooms, the doors right next to each other. She pushed hers open, stepping into the quiet, adrenaline still thrumming in her veins. Her suit was damp with sweat, her body still buzzing from the intensity of the race, but it was a good feeling. A victorious one.

She had just pulled her race suit down to her waist, reaching for a towel, when she heard a door open behind her.

Not hers.

Max’s, probably—except the footsteps that followed weren’t his.

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the room.

“Well done. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Her entire body went rigid.

She turned.

Nathan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face carefully neutral—but his eyes gave him away. Cold. Calculating.

She exhaled sharply through her nose. “What the fuck do you want?”

Nathan stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind him. “You need to cut the shit.”

She laughed, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, mate.”

His jaw tightened. “The comments. The narrative you’re letting people run with. It’s damaging my reputation.”

“Your reputation?” She arched a brow. “Pretty sure you did that yourself when you stuck your dick where it didn’t belong.”

His expression flickered, just for a second, before the mask slipped back into place.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I have lawyers. You keep dragging my name through the mud, and I’ll make sure it costs you.”

She tilted her head. “Is that a threat?”

He shrugged. “A warning.”

She scoffed, turning away, but he kept going.

“I mean it,” Nathan said, voice dropping lower. “This little act of yours—playing the scorned woman, running off to Red Bull like a child—it's pathetic. You think people actually respect you? They’re laughing at you.”

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay calm.

“Must be humiliating,” he continued, almost conversationally. “Knowing you were just something to pass the time. A placeholder.”

Her fingers curled into fists.

Then he said it.

“Fucking whore.”

The door slammed open so hard it bounced off the wall.

Nathan barely had time to react before he was shoved backwards, his back hitting the wall with a dull thud. A forearm pressed hard against his throat, holding him in place.

Max.

His entire body was tense, his usually sharp, arrogant expression now twisted into something far more dangerous.

Nathan made a strangled noise, trying to push him off. “What the—”

“Say that again,” Max said, voice low, lethal.

Nathan swallowed, his eyes flicking to her.

Max pressed harder. “Go on. I fucking dare you.”

Silence.

Nathan was many things—arrogant, selfish, manipulative—but he wasn’t stupid.

Max held him there for a moment longer, just to make a point, then finally let go, stepping back like Nathan wasn’t even worth the energy.

Nathan straightened his shirt, swallowing whatever insult he’d been about to throw. His eyes flicked between them, then he scoffed. “You two deserve each other.”

Then he turned and walked out.

The second the door shut, the room was quiet again.

Max exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the tension. “Fucking hell.”

She blinked at him, still processing what just happened. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He turned to her, dark eyes unreadable. “Yeah, I did.”

And then, just like that, he walked out, leaving her standing there, pulse racing, wondering what the hell just happened.

part two...

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore

[withleeknow]

lost cause.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, kinda angsty idk?; unedited bc we live just to suffer, erhm i don't think there's a lot of warnings here, open to interpretation if oc is depressed 🤔; basically “it's rotten work,” “not to me. not if it’s you,” + that one scene in nobody wants this (if you’ve watched the show you’ll know what i’m talking about) word count: 0.6k listen to 🎧: risk - gracie abrams

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

“i think i’m starting to hate myself again.”

your voice is casual when you say it, indifferent, nonchalant, as if you’re merely bringing up the weather or reading from a shopping list. you’re used to it by now — the fact that it comes and goes, that if there are highs then there must be lows too. that sometimes, there are no good days, just better ones.

you know minho hasn’t fallen asleep because you still feel him playing with your hair while you lay on his chest, his index finger twisting a lock around before letting it fall over your back. he doesn’t falter, not even once. no change in his calming breathing, no sign that he’s all too surprised by your sudden announcement. you suppose he’s used to it as much as you are.

he’s quiet for a while, like the night outside the comfort of your bedroom. the weather forecast warned you of thunderstorms, but everything remained still and safe. there wasn’t even a spark of lightning to be found.

when minho finally speaks, only a simple “okay,” comes out, followed by a question. “then i’ll love you more to make up for it. how much time do you need? couple weeks?”

you shake your head. “longer,” you say.

“couple months?”

a beat of silence. another shake. “longer.”

“couple years?” he asks. no hesitation. “couple decades?”

minho can’t see you from this position, but you can hear the sound of his heart. he’s steady and secure and you’re nothing more than a fickle flame that’s always on the verge of going out.

“you can’t handle it,” you tell him. “better to quit while you’re ahead.”

it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? for him to pack up before he realizes somewhere down the line that he’s wasted his time and effort on a lost cause?

“i know what you’re doing, by the way. stop that.”

you pretend to ask, “what am i doing?”

before you know it, he’s already managed to flip the both of you over. he’s hovering over you with his forearms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in, chest to chest, and his hips pressed flush against yours.

“i told you i’m not going anywhere,” minho says, brushing some hair away from your face. “stop trying to get me to leave.”

you blink. he’s so close and oh so warm, so beautiful as he stares down at you, so patient and kind when you’re telling him that you need him to love the parts that even you can’t bring yourself to love.

your hands settle on his shoulders. “don’t blame me when you regret it.”

“i won’t regret it. not if it’s you.”

then he’s kissing you, soft and slow, and that’s when you finally hear the first roar of thunder that should’ve arrived hours ago. he kisses you like he was made for you — or you for him, you’re not really sure, but it can’t possibly matter that much.

“so?” minho prompts after he’s pulled away, “how long?”

his eyes are sparkling and you’re still a little dazed. lightheaded but you know that you’ll always love him the most, know that you’re pushing it, know that you’re asking for what many would never be willing to give. “what if i say i’ll need you for the rest of my life?”

his lips curl into a tender smile, one that he presses to your mouth once again. you taste devotion in the kiss, in the way one of his hands crosses the short distance to hold your face so delicately it makes your heart hurt.

“i’ll love you more for the rest of our lives then.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 30.10.2024]

[menelausblues]

sinner for two.

꒰ xavier takes his job as your secretary very seriously. ꒱

𖥔 ݁ 1.3k. no evol au. vampire+ceo reader/mc x secretary xavier. secret relationship. xavier is a massive simp kinda. smut : oral/swallowing. light blood-drinking. xavmc week. ❀ ݁ i had this trope idea of mc as a vampire n xavier as their secretary. my friend honey introduced me to the manga midnight secretary and while i don't really recommend it as a read, it did help me get through the writing block on this one.

mdni.

“y-you have a meeting with the association in ten minutes.”

xavier doesn’t always like being a secretary; it’s far too busy, but he likes being yours, and that's enough to stay. a mountain made of diligence, that’s what he’s always been. though he’s not as patient as he once was, he still regards himself as more tolerant than others. he’s learned to be very good at obedience, despite how much he prefers control. he reasons it’s an inevitable outcome when the object of his affection is you, his immortal boss that enjoys feeding on him from time to time in the safety of your office. you look up at him, grinning, and your eyes gleam a dazzling crimson, what he’s come to know as the shade of your gratitude and greed.

the blood from his thigh starts to drip from the corner of your mouth and he watches your tongue lazily dart along your lower lip. he doesn’t even realize he’s gone from panting to tracing his own lip with his tongue, mimicking you in the throes of his own ecstasy. “i'm unlikely to be late, but if i am, can you let them know?”

somehow, your voice teases him, licks at his flesh even when you pull away, the area of his wound thrumming with a sweet kind of pain. he feels soft desperation spill out of him, pre-cum seeping from the swollen head of his cock. between a moan and an affirmation, he breathes shakily, “y-yeah, i will. i’ll tell them.”

your tongue licks along the shape of his wound, making his cock twitch in his already stuttering hands. when he feels your teeth sink back in, he can’t help the way his head lulls back, an elongated groan surrendered to the air.

“you’re a really good secretary. very efficient. very good at logistics. always on top of things. i like that about you.” you say, leaving gentle kisses along his inner thigh. xavier whines pathetically. he looks down, fascinated by the way you kneel before him but he’s the one who’s worshipping you. “it’s because i care about you more than anything.” “aht-aht, we’ve talked about idolization.” your tone is a warning. “i’m a monster. you shouldn’t forget that.” his voice is shaky and wispy, creaking under the weight of his lingering arousal. “it’s not because you feed on me. i just like you. i want you to use me.” you chuckle. “the xavier i met on his first day here wouldn’t say such a thing.” “well, he’s an idiot.” xavier knows that you think he was much smarter before he discovered your secret, much smarter before he became infatuated by you and offered himself on a platter, but xavier thinks you don't understand how much he likes being next to you, how much he wants to be at your mercy for the simple sake of it. you snort, licking around his wound as you prepare for your last taste. his eyes squeeze shut in anticipation. “you think you know this is what you want, but your fragile judgment is impaired by pleasure.” his head sinks back; his sighs sink into a groan. “ahhh, oh my god,”

he never realizes when he cums, always so overwhelmed by the fullness of bliss that imprisons him. he only knows because when he finally opens his eyes and looks down, your mouth has moved from his thigh to his sputtering length.

he holds his breath and feels lightheaded as you swallow him down, but he can’t manage more than a pathetic pant that sounds closer to a squeak. you’ve removed his hands, taking the mess of his release as your own responsibility. as always. he’s so grateful to be taken care of by you, so honored to be the one who sustains your living so frequently.

when you’re done and the daze of his explosive ecstasy finally starts to fade, you rise to your feet and start to adjust your clothing. he finally feels like he regains control of his breathing but all he wants to do is watch you.

beautiful and devastating, addicting and disorienting.

he manages to fix himself but his hair is a tousled mess and he’s sure the buttons on his shirt are lopsided. your eyes are full of concern as you look over him. you approach, your sweet-scented palms cupping his cheeks. you always carry an aroma of amber and spice. “maybe you shouldn’t offer your blood like this. i fear it’ll interfere with your job and i like you as my secretary more than i like you as a meal.”

even if you don’t want me, i’m yours anyway.

“i like both.” a soft laugh. “well, you’ll be free of me for a week next week. maybe it’ll clear your mind.” “w-wait, where are you going?” it comes out as confusion and surprise, but what it really feels like is panic and fear. he knows every detail of your schedule, but he can’t recall anything you have going on without him. your sweet smile is almost painful with the way ardor floods his chest and makes it tighten. he watches the blood red of your eyes fade back into a color well-known to the human eye. “you don’t know? didn’t you make my schedule, sweetie?” “oh,” xavier’s lips fall into a pout. “i thought…i…”

i thought i was going with you.

you peck his lips, ginger yet reverent. it reels him in and keeps him still. “i don’t need you to accompany me, and as i’ve stated before, our relationship at work should contain some boundaries. if i need you to take note of anything, you can attend virtually.” a frustrated grumble, “ah, i see.” you try to follow his eyes as they become downcast, but petulantly, he doesn’t want to meet you, doesn’t want to remember why it’s inappropriate for him to admit that he wants to always be by your side. that’s not what you both agreed to, and he knows it. “are you disappointed?” you ask, and he can hear the underlying worry in your voice. it makes him feel weak, but he can’t lie to you the way he lies to himself. “a little,” a soft sigh. “is indulging in you this way complicating your role as my secretary?” “no,” instantly, he rejects the notion. with wide cerulean eyes, terrified, his lips part in alarm. you cover your mouth to hide your laugh. “that was fast.” xavier clears his throat, realizing that in order to show that he still values reason and has genuine dedication to both you and his position as your secretary, he’s going to have to try his hardest to maintain decorum. he can’t succumb to fits of dissatisfaction over non-issues, and he can’t always be so drenched in his own desperation to love and be loved by you. “i’m the only one who can do this job well because i know about you. i know about your sensitivity to light and i know your weaknesses to warmth. i plan everything around it. and also, when you’re hungry, i’m always available. and you say you like my blood best, that it’s special to you.” special, specifically designed for your tastes, made for you. “my, my, you’ve really bolstered your defense.” your grin is taunting him but he doesn’t care as long as you know. without hesitation, “i want to be the one you take everywhere you go.” your hands fall and his body aches to reach back for you. “how sweet, but not next week. i expect you’ll take care of everything here so i can continue bragging about finding such a competent secretary i fear i can never let go of.” his knees nearly buckle where he stands. the assurance that you want to keep him is enough to weaken him. “y-yes, of course,” “good job. now, come on. straighten yourself up. you’re coming with me to my meeting.” when you turn your back on him and leave him there, he can’t fight his own smile. his job is quite demanding, and loving you the way he does makes it complicated, but he’ll do anything to be the one trailing behind you and taking note of your every detail and whim.

[sturniolosass]

Quiet. - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You and Matt are bored of the movie you’re watching and a few things go down… including the bed frame being broken

-based on this post i made a few days back..

Warnings: smut, swearing, choking, biting, Dom!Matt, Sub!reader…etc.

[You and Matt had been together for a while now, around seven months to be exact.

Tonight Matt had decided to invite you over something you’re always down for. But as of now you we being somewhat ignored while he played a couple games of fortnite with his friends.. Chris included]

Readers POV

Unfortunately I couldn’t help but become more and more bored by the second… wishing he’d get off the game and give me more attention.. Something I felt too bad to admit considering he’s always getting off the game when I’m around… Eventually (after 2 hours) I got fed up with just sitting around in the background so I decide to grab a extra chair from the Dinning area and sit next to him

Upon sitting the chair down Matt looks up at me and smiles.. only a quick glance so he could assess my facial movement hoping I wasn’t as mad as I seemed.. I just look at the screen..

After around 5 minutes i start to focus on the way his hands are moving.. super fast.. over the keys he pressed so delicately, it turned me on, fast.. “shut the fuck up pussy” Matt shouts at a player he killed.. I could slowly feel my pink underwear get soaked, an extra large T shirt Matt had given me keeping me from staining the chair..I slowly run my hands down to my underwear to check if i’ve made a mess on the chair, hoping Matt doesn’t catch me when my hands between my legs.. I remove my hand quickly after realizing I’ve made a nice sized puddle on the seat running to my bag I grab a clean pair of underwear and rush out to the bathroom.. Not even thinking of the puddle on the chair..

I return from the bathroom and am immediately greeted with darkness.. I was confused for a second until i hear Matt, “come over here” he speak from his bed in the darkness.. “Did you get off the game? why is it dark.” i ask still confused.. “just come here” he spouts. I climb in the bed with my two knees, immediately sweep off them and laid flat on the mattress.. Matt above me with my wrists pined down with his hands.. “you made a huge mess on my chair..” He spoke leaning down directly in my ear.. “ how am i supposed to clean that” he added

“i didn’t mean to..” i spoke… “he turns his head.. “hmm what was it? what got you all worked up” he asks one hand trailing down my stomach to reach for my pussy… “i-it was.. you playing the game.. well—your fingers specifically.. they really made me hot..” i reply lightheaded.. “is that so? what about them?” he asked pushing his hands in my underwear slowly “was it? my hand on the mouse or the keys? or was it how fast you correlated it to me holding you down and rubbing your pussy” he questioned hand reaching my hole, eventually diving in with two fingers.. I couldn’t reply, too stunned to speak as he pushed his fingers further lathering them up in my juices, he pulls his hand out sucking both fingers.. pulling my underwear down from underneath me..

Kissing down my stomach as he yanked them down.. arriving at my area placing a soft kiss almost as a sign of respect due to the fact that he’s about to devour the poor thing.. Face immediately digging in causing me to spur a few profanities “oh fu-shit- Matt” i moaned, as his tongue run up and down on my clit, sucking and slobbering all over it.. “please Matt” i beg, worried I’d make a even bigger mess than before on the chair.. He just continues to eat me out, licking in somewhat of a figure eight formation.. moaning in between every one of my moans..

Coming closer to my climax i can’t help but grab his head pushing him deeper in my ocean, tongue diving deeper than the titanic, as i begin to orgasm i start to cream, him sliding two fingers in and out of me as his tongue does the two step on my flit sends me into over drive.. In less than two minutes I’m finishing, him still pumping two fingers in and out as he smiles up at me, gorgeous blue eyes staring in my soul

Rising over me and pulling my legs down he looks me in my eyes causing me to get more wet by the minute. He leans down closer to my neck kissing down to my collar bones, “Matthew please just fuck me” I beg not being able to take his soft lips kissing all over me.. wanting for him to just be inside me already.. “i’m going as fast as i can love..be patient.” he speaks finally making it to my nipple, sucking it him between his teeth immediately, rolling his tongue around it like a lollipop, he then grabs my waist pulling himself down closer to me.. his warm body hovering over me.. he releases my nipple “are you ready love?” he asks staring up at me from my boobs “yes matt please! i-I need you!” i beg in to which he pulls his pants down his ankles and off his legs.. He positions himself to my hole, mesmerized by the juices flowing out. “ok” he smiles and slides in for the first thrust, his hands gripping his headboard above me, “aghh-Ma-you’re so big oh my-“ i moan feeling every inch of him enter me.. being shadowed by his arm hanging from the bedpost.

He continues to thrust deeper and deeper in me, brushing that spot each time “oh f-fu-Matt” i stammer. “look at me?” he tells “huh” i react unable to keep my eyes open.. “look at me, i wanna see you cum, i wanna be the last time you think of when you climax” he asks thrusting in and out in such a quick pace.. eventually i hear a crack.. unbothered by it he continues to stroke deep gripping the bed frame tighter and tighter with each thrust, becoming deeper and deeper with each stroke..

“FUCK” he moans almost as a shout.. “ouu- matthew..fuck me..goodness” a few moans utter from my breathless mouth.. I can feel myself arching my back as i let my orgasm take over me. “MATT-fuck” i scream in to which he grabs my face preventing me from screaming any louder.. I can feel him begin to increase his pace looking in my eyes “yeah, i know baby” he says “cum for me” he adds.. “just like that” he says as he pushes me to orgasm..

I watch his face contort as his thrust get violent, getting closer to his high. eyes closing as he lets out the breathiest moans “o-oh fu-ck, shi- god you feel like heaven” he breathes. eyes rolling back, and just then that’s when i hear the bed frame crack, both of us falling 20 inches to the floor, mattress and bed cot underneath us, matt still inside me. He hurriedly gets up “are you ok? are you ok?” he stammers worriedly sliding out of me and hopping off the bed “i’m ok im just on the floor” i laugh from the angle im looking up at him.

He then helps me up and stands there thinking of a way to fix his bed, now on the floor.. He decides to remove his bed frame completely for the time being.. “Can you sit over at the desk?” he asks looking at me with a concerned look.. I just laugh and walk over and sit in his chair grabbing his rob from the hook on his door. He then pulls on a pair of basketball shorts before lifting the bed up off the ground leaning it against the wall then grabbing each panel one by one taking them down to the garage..

I just decide to hop in the shower..

Once i’m out the shower i come back in the room for the second time to see Matt sitting on his bed, that is now on the floor completely made up with no bed frame.. “I didn’t know what else to do.. I can order a new one tomorrow” he states.. “haha ok, what are we gonna tell Chris and Nick” I laugh thinking of all they’d have to say… “I don’t know..Nothing for now” he chuckles.. I just hop into the bed.. “your TV is up wayyyy too high now” i laugh at his TV mounted to the wall. “stop- i’m gonna have a bed frame!!” he whines jokingly.

3 hours later…

You hear Chris and Nick in the hallway talking about a fortnite game they were playing which spikes Matt’s attention. He hops up and runs out the room..

Minutes later you hear Matt nearing the bedroom door talking to Chris.. They both enter the room in a rush to what i’m assuming is get to the fortnite launch.. “Yo what the fuck-what happened to your bed” Chris states, Nick walking in behind them.. he gives you a funny disgusted look walking out the room “You both are nasty- oh my god” he fake gags. Matt and I both look to eachother. Chris shaking his head in disapproval “i can’t believe that’s what i was hearing earlier” “I need to go” He adds walking out the room and down the steps to his. “NICK ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE” I yell.. “GIRL BYE” He shouts back from the steps leading to his room making his way up the stairs so they can all get on the game.

You and Matt just giggle with eachother before he puts his headset back on…

De End 🧌

A/N: aye i wrote this as fast as i could for yall,so you know… my bad if it isnt “perfect”, also idk if i should’ve had a tag list but.. idk lmk if yall wanna be on a tag list.. also btw message me yalll!! I BE BORED!!

[joy99x]

Stupid, Emotional, Obsessive

💋Yandere！Kaveh x Reader

Tw!!! Emotional manipulation, obsessive love/yandere behavior, extreme emotional dependency, jealousy, gaslighting, anxiety episodes, self worth issues, implied threats of sh, power imbalance

Kaveh is sitting on the edge of the couch in your shared apartment. Well—not really shared. He never officially moved in, but his toothbrush is here, his books are stacked in the corner, and his jacket still hangs by the door. That’s enough to make it both of yours in his eyes.

The sun had long vanished beneath the edge of the desert, and the sky over Sumeru had deepened to violet. Lanterns flickered along the edges of the bazaar, casting wavering shadows across colorful awnings and tile roofs. Music still played somewhere below, faint strains of a sitar drifting up into the dark, but in your house, silence reigned — heavy, aching, and stretched far too thin.

Kaveh sat alone, elbows resting on a scroll-strewn desk, eyes hollow and red-rimmed, hands shaking where they gripped the edge of the table. A stack of untouched architectural sketches sat beside him, smeared in places where teardrops had fallen.

Your scarf was still draped over the back of the chair. He’d reached for it at least three times in the last hour. Once to smell it. Twice to clutch it like it could summon you back.

You were supposed to be home.

You’d told him that morning — with a soft smile, hand brushing over his sleeve like it meant nothing — “Nilou invited me to see her dance rehearsal. I won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be back before the sun sets.”

He remembered how you smiled when you spoke her name.

Nilou this. Nilou that.

Nilou’s dancing. Cyno’s jokes. Sethos’ kindness. Tighnari’s intelligence.

You told him he was beautiful often. Even when he cried, especially when he cried. You told him when the sun hit just right, his hair looked like it was made of gold. You tell him he could fall and shatter and you would still be there to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

He believed your words when your hand was on top of his. Hell, you can tell him the sky is fake and he’d believe it.

But now, hours past sunset, you were still with her.

The thought made his chest ache with more than worry. It was jealousy — green and bitter, acidic enough to burn through his lungs. And enough to make him nauseous. His thoughts spiraled: what if you’d stayed on purpose?

You don’t understand what it’s like. The second you smile, he feels lightheaded. You laugh and the air is knocked out from his lungs. When you two lazily lay in bed, legs tangled and your naked chest pressing into his, he wishes he could die right then and there so he would die happy.

But when you stay out too late, come home too late, it feels like he’s been thrown into a void; gasping, drowning in the fear of abandonment he can’t shake of no matter how many times you say “I am not going anywhere, sunshine.”

Because one day you will, you will get sick of his whining and crying and you will leave. He would grovel at your feet when you pack your bags, maybe break some stuff and even pathetically put himself between the door and you to keep you here for just a few seconds more. Like those seconds would be enough to change your mind

And that day, would be his last. He told you that many times.

He stood up too fast and nearly knocked over the inkpot. Pacing. Wracking his mind.

He remembers Alhaitham’s words—“You’re too emotionally dependent. It’s suffocating.”

He hated that he was right.

Should he go to the theatre? Walk straight through the square and demand to see you? But what if you weren’t there? What if you were at her home now, laughing over tea while Kaveh wept alone like a fool?

“No one will make it their life goal to fix you.”

He hated this. Hated how weak he felt. But he hated even more the idea that someone else might get to bask in your presence while he trembled in your absence

When the door creaked open, he swung his head so fast he nearly heard a crack.

You stepped inside, wind-tossed and slightly out of breath, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sorry I’m late,” you said. “We stopped for dessert at a tea stall—”

���With Nilou?” he interrupted sharply.

Your smile faltered.

He was already walking toward you — eyes wide, face stricken. “You were with her this whole time?”

“I told you I would be,” you said gently. “Kaveh, what’s wrong?”

“You said you’d be back before sundown,” he choked out, and just like that, the first tear fell. “You promised. And you were with her for hours—do you even know how long I waited?!” Even though he didn’t want to, he raised his voice at you. You warned him many times you didn’t like it. Yet still, like an unwanted and stupid teenager, he did.

He was brilliant—his designs legendary, his passion unmatched. But now, all that intensity was directed at you, like sunlight through glass, burning everything it touched. Was it devotion or destruction? Mm, who knows?

You tried to step closer, to soothe him, but he pulled away.

“Is she better than me?” he whispered, voice raw and broken. “Is that it? You look at her the way you used to look at me. Every time you say her name, I feel like I’m losing you.”

You paused. Just for a little while.

“Kaveh… You’re so hopeless… Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?” You purred, a little cynical and a little lovely.

“I-I just missed you.”His voice cracked mid-sentence.

He collapsed onto his knees in front of you, burying his face in your robes like a broken thing.

“I thought something happened,” he sobbed. “Or worse—that you realized I’m not enough. That you’d found someone else who wasn’t so… pathetic.” He tried to smile and it came out broken, like it hurt to fake so.

You knelt with him, holding him tight as he shook with grief and insecurity.

“You know I like it when you miss me.” you say, stepping closer, voice low and steady. Your hands roaming through his hair with feather light touches. Slow and deliberate

He gasps, eyes wide and glassy. “You do?”

“Mhm.” You cup his cheek with deliberate slowness, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “But next time, don’t make me feel like I have to comfort you just because you got lonely. I’m starting to think you only keep me around so you have a shoulder to sob on.”

He gasps even louder at that, hands grasping at your waist like you’re the only thing tethering him to the world.

“N-no! I would never! I’m nothing without you… ı don’t want anyone else,” he breathes, voice thick with emotion. “I just want you. Always.”

You hum, smiling lazily as you drop your hand to his nape, tracing circles and shapes with your nails

“Good boy.”

You feel how he shivers under your touch— like he’s being seen, praised, insulted and known at the same time

Your fingers trail down his throat, lingering at the dip of his collarbone, feeling his heartbeat stutter against your palm.

“But if you ever make me feel like I’m just your emotional support again,” your voice sharpens just enough to make him flinch, “I’ll start wondering if someone else would cry prettier for me.”

He shakes his head wildly, tears spilling anew. “No, no, no, please. I can do better. I can be better. I’ll be anything you want. Just don’t look at anyone else. Please, I’m begging you.”

The candlelight flickered between you, fragile and fluttering like his voice.

You kiss the corner of his eye, tasting salt. “Then stay on your knees, sunshine. And don’t forget who you belong to.”

“I won’t,” he promises, breathless. “I swear, I won’t. I’m yours. Forever.”

And he means it—every word, every vow, every shattered syllable. Because even if it breaks him, even if it turns him into something hollow and trembling and utterly yours… he’d rather be broken at your feet than whole anywhere else.

“Then prove it.”

Your lips finds his, your grip on his neck getting tighter. He sobs again, this time with something dangerously close to joy.

[satoruhour]

thinking of full nelson with geto right in front of a mirror while he plays your pussy and then decides to bring in his favourite vibrator and overstimulate you while praising you for taking him and the vibe so well OH MY GOD 😣😣

a/n: WOAAAHH im back ??!! this was so hot and im on my second day of my period and i am HORNY!!!!!! also technically over 2k but im lazy to make it a fic bc fics need LORE and i hardly did anything with this / tagging @na-t0 @crysugu @shotorus @slttygeto @suguruplsr ♱

warnings: non-curse au but geto still adopts miminana, feelings of insecurity from reader, soft dom! geto, fem!reader, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, clit stimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, use of toys (specifically a vibrator), praise, pet names, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

you always knew geto liked to decorate — whether it’s your room after you moved in with him or the girls’ playroom after he took them in. he knew a lot of differences between marble and parquet, or whether you guys would use a bathtub or a cubicle more. geto liked you to accompany each time he planned to upgrade the girls’ room, which turned into rooms, after mimiko complained her sister kept messing up her books and nanako only commented on how ‘mimiko’s depressing state made the whole room look like a confessional booth’.

you both laughed and kissed their foreheads after because you know they’ll make up in no time, and you know that you wouldn’t have this life any other way — geto, a high-school sweetheart who’s now a teacher, taking care of your girls who you both took in willingly at a young age.

but you’ve always wondered why he liked having mirrors on his ceiling — whether it was his questionable design tastes or whether it was a dare from satoru, you never understood why he’d want to have him staring back at himself whenever he woke up or went to sleep. you should’ve known geto would want to use it for this.

“su—” your eyes are scrunched close, not bearing to look at your nude body from above you. he swore it was everything he ever loved, from your pretty tits to the way you stomach heaves at his hands and it was perfect timing for him to make you appreciate yourself in all your glory as he eats you out—

“aht, no, baby,” his tongue on your clit halts, your hole clenching around his fingers for more stimulation again, “eyes up at yourself.”

“but . .” you prop yourself up on your elbows and pout down at him and you think the mirror should be used for your lover instead; hair tousled, fringe falling all over his face, bottom half of his face soaked with your cum, the smile he gives you makes you clench again and his smile is so teasing you feel embarrassed again.

“but what, baby?” geto moves his fingers slowly, pumping them into you as they reach deep in you and your argument fades from your mind and lips, words descending into moans as your hips move against him. “weren’t you the one telling yourself you weren’t beautiful?”

he doesn’t wait for your answer, latching his mouth back on your puffy clit and sucks and sucks, loving the way you lose all strength and fall back onto your upper back. your whines reverberate throughout the room, one hand tangled in suguru’s long hair while the other holds onto the sheets and you feel so lightheaded. your pussy’s squelching so much and the way he eats you out is just filthy, slobbering over your juices while his fingers stretch you out.

“mhm— sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he moans into your cunt, feeling the bed move beneath you and you just know he’s grinding into the bed from how much he loves your pussy, “look at yourself, princess.”

“i— i am,” you whine softly, looking at your body writhe under geto and your mouth opened in sensuality. you’re still on the fence about it, “i am.”

geto hums into your folds, eyes closing once knowing you were obeying him, continuing his assault on you with a relentless tongue and even faster fingers. by now you can feel yourself getting close, as with geto since he knows your body so well that praises fall from his lips and you only tug harder on his hair.

“close?” it’s quick, the question, because he can never get enough of you and your sweetness and just has to get back to it right away, cracking open an eye just for a moment to see your pleading eyes. he knew you’d be looking at him, a cute little pout on your face and big doe eyes, begging.

“y—yeah, suguru . .” you mumble, other hand finding his hair, too, before grinding your hips into his mouth. a distorted moan leaves your lips when you feel him curl his fingers in you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you struggle to get a grip on reality. “f-fuck, su— w’nna cum, pleasepleaseplease!”

“gettin’ to it,” he’s mumbling now, words muffled by your pussy as his tongue and fingers increases in speed, the noises of your cum adding so much to the experience that you’re endlessly whimpering, mantras of his name added to the echo of the room, “cum for me, baby, you can do it.”

“fuuuck, suguru—” your moans reach the heavens, mind spiralling with the way geto was making you feel. his jaw hurts, your legs tremble, your head spins and you’re cumming into his hands, reflections of your pleasure reflected back at you from above. your back arches off the bed as you coat his fingers with your juices, tongue licking and flicking your clit through the mind-blowing orgasm, and all your boyfriend does is smile at your sensitive state once you come down.

“noisy little girl,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

you frown in faux sadness, “’cause of you.”

geto only hums, trailing up your body and catching you in his embrace, easily helping you atop him. from there his head pokes out from behind your head and you give a small smile through the ceiling mirrors.

“hi.” you say softly, shy at how exposed your body was and how shameless he seemed to love it.

“hi, baby.” your chest still breathes hard, body heating up from the way geto treats you, “you still think you’re unattractive?”

it was a trick question; it was the thing that got you here in the first place, or even the first thing that inspired geto to install mirrors — and you’re confident you’re in for a long ride no matter what your answer may be. but the one thing you both established was to always be honest, and you’re not too fond of yourself today. you’d take your chances and lie, but geto would see right through your lies, hesitance and flustered demeanour and all that.

“a little, su—” you frown at him through the mirror, and you find that what they say is true. saying it is equal to internalising it and you find now that your body looks a little weird and your hair frames your face in an unnatural way; geto stops your thoughts from worsening almost immediately.

“look at me,” you think he’s referring to his reflection but he turns your head towards him easily with a small chuckle, “no, the real me.”

“you’re the prettiest little sweetheart i’ve laid my eyes upon, ever.”

you blow a raspberry, “you’re lying.”

“i’m not!” geto laughs again, letting you turn your upper body toward him, “being as truthful as a boys’ scout, cross my heart.”

you hum, letting your boyfriend take you into a sweet, slow kiss to calm you down. before long you can already feel his pulsing bulge below you, begging to be let out of his constraints.

“i’ll trust you.” a little grin shows on his face at your words, pressing one last kiss to your turning face and looking at you through the mirror.

“i want you to.” he mumbles, distracting you with feather-like kisses on your neck as he uses his hands to pull down his underwear. he lifts both his hips and you easily, strong like that before you feel the slap of his cock along your legs and a soft apology. “i want you to trust me with every fibre of your being when i tell you you’re the one i want for the rest of my life, when i tell you you’re the most stunning. do you trust me?”

“i trust you, suguru,” you swallow when you feel him drag your tip along your folds, collecting your slick with mouth opening in a silent moan. geto takes that opportunity to crash his lips into yours, nudging his tip just past your tight pussy and you just need to do something, clutch onto something, fingers tightening around his forearms.

“feel that?” suguru breathlessly asks, short breaths leaving his mouth and warming your neck, “feel how your pussy was made for me?”

“y—yeah,” you mumble and whine, head tipped up against his neck before his hands naturally go under your knees, spreading you so he’d go deeper, “s’full . .”

inch by inch, he eases his cock in you, so wet that he doesn’t need to prep you again and he groans continually at your walls snugly hugging him, “i know you know the feeling, baby, but now i want you to look.”

you reluctantly turn your head from the safeness of his neck, looking towards your reflection and then where you two was connected, to his cock buried deep in you. he‘s not even fully in, finding that he was staring at you from below you.

“prettiest girl with the prettiest cunt, hm?” his talk is dirty always, letting his hips grind into yours from below. geto likes dirty, just as he brings your legs closer and closer to your chest and hears you moan out his name. he looks drunk off your pussy, hooded lids and parted lips and all, whispering, “i hope you know that.”

your lover doesn’t give you time to breathe, making your jaw drop open when he thrusts up into you from below and loving the way your eyes widen in your reflection. geto does not know where to stare more: your pussy sucking him in so well or your expressions, switching between the both as he makes you sob and cry on his cock.

“sugu— s-shit . .” you’re lightheaded already, knowing he‘d want you to keep your eyes locked on the mirror as you get fucked senseless, cock driving into you so violently with every snap of his hips. they set an animalistic pace, spurts of your cum spraying everywhere.

“doing so well,” he swears under his breath, before he’s pulling your legs towards him even more, “bend a little more for me— yesss . . that’s it, sweetheart.”

your mewls reach an all time high once he’s got one hand secured on your nape, pulling you into a full nelson that your head even struggles to look at your connected bodies in the mirror, but you can just almost see your face morphed into pleasure: tongue out and cunt so pliant for your boyfriend, until you’re spotting geto’s other hand moving to your clit. he knows you’re close already, driven to the brink of sensitivity once he rubs at your bundle of nerves, and your right thigh starts to shake.

“clenching around me s’hard i can hardly move, f-fuck—” he laughs softly, hips still pistoning in you, hand rubbing violently along your clit over and over and—

“suguru— cum— cumming, cumming—!” you clench the hardest you’ve ever done, orgasm hitting you like a freight train until you’re shivering in his hold, neck hurting from being in full nelson but your boyfriend doesn’t stop his thrusts, not when you’re moaning so nicely for him. your mind’s blank except for suguru, countless whines of his name escaping your lips.

“there we go . .” he hums, focused on your pussy twitching as he rubs you through your orgasm where your entrances stretches to accommodate his fat cock — all he does is give you a little of a break and slows down, releasing you from the position briefly. until you can hear the drag of the bedside drawer; with his hands he takes out a vibrator, the one thing you simultaneously love and hate.

you know with how much you beg with your eyes, geto will still eventually use it on you, but you’re always tempted by his words.

“i’ll be gentle, i promise.” “just relax, baby.” “i’ll try not to overstim you.” he’s said all these before with a sly grin and you know he just can’t control himself when it comes to you.

“hold your legs for me, my darling.” he whispers and you obey his rasp, exchanging glances through the mirror when he starts it up and the buzz gives you an initial shock — geto laughs, you pout.

“why’d you laugh,” you huff, momentarily forgetting he has his whole cock in you.

with one arm, he wraps it around your middle while the other just presses the vibrator dangerously close to your puffy, aching clit, and he starts his hips again, bullying his throbbing dick into you with little effort.

“su . . do we really gotta?”

“’course,” geto grins, pressing a kiss to your neck, “wanna see you absolutely ruined because of me.”

“yeah, but you can do it without the vibe.”

your boyfriend only hums, “nah.”

geto liked teasing, way too much, giving you a brief warning of keeping your legs spread for him before he slams into you, hand pressing the vibrator into you and you sob out his name. the fast buzz of the toy has you squirming around on his front, arms already losing the strength to hold your legs up.

“suguru—!” you’re moaning loudly, your cum making the scene even more lewd with how wet you were. “s-sensiti—”

you can feel him grin into your neck, pressing the strong vibrator deeper into your clit which is starting to turn numb, mind muddled with the thickness of his length stretching and spreading you. every slap of his balls upon your ass is noisy and loud but your moans are even louder.

“sloppy fuckin’ pussy,” he rasps out, eyes trained on the way you limply hold up your legs like a good girl and let him use you like a ragdoll, “so goddamn wet for me.”

geto increases the speed of the vibrator and you jolt in surprise, mouth dropping open in surprise. he smiles at you through the mirror, admiring your body on display as you take him well time and time again, so satisfied with his investment in mirrors on the ceiling.

“cream on my cock, baby,” geto mumbles into your ear and you whine, fingernails digging into your own skin they might as well bruise and create marks, but you need suguru in some way — you let go one of your legs, blindly finding his fingers with yours and twining them.

“c’mon, c’mon, i’ve got you,” he reassures you from below, creating hickeys in the safety of your neck while his hips do the sinful opposite, thrusting into you in an unforgiving speed. “want to feel you cum all over me, pretty girl.”

the praise is through the roof, making you writhe in his hold just to get away from the ruthlessness of the toy and his dick, too sensitive from all the sensations. but you love it all the more, wanting to do everything geto says just so you’d hear your name from his lips over and over.

“i’m cumming— haaah . . ” you’re jerking in his hold, “su— su, i’m c—” but you’re already orgasming, legs not even able to be held up that you let go of them so they can freely tremble and you can squeeze your eyes shut. you’re clamping down so hard around suguru that he has to moan too, holding one leg for you while the vibrator still goes on, sending you into overstimulation quickly. “suguruuu . .”

little short pants leave you, rendered utterly speechless as you ride out your orgasm, although your boyfriend doesn’t stop. his thrusts turn sloppy, now, hips fatigued and brain turned to mush by your gummy walls.

“cumming— g’nna give you a big load, baby—” geto grunts out, tossing the vibrator to the side and grabbing both your legs to fold you deeper, tip brushing up against your sweet spot that you whine lewdly again, and that’s all it takes before he’s shooting his cum deep in you, painting your insides white. it’s so hot and heavy, paired with the deepness of his voice rumbling beside your ear that it makes you moan softly, feeling fuller and fuller by the second. “oh . . fuuuck—”

“t-take me so well, don’t you?” suguru murmurs, purposely propping his hips a little higher, “watch my cum drip out of you.”

he was disgusting, and yet you turn your eyes towards the mirrors, hearing and seeing the soft shlick! that sounds out when he removes his cock before white spills out and you bite your lip at the sight.

“she likes to be bred, huh?” you hum softly at the question, drunken expression taken in by the other as he also gives you a slightly tipsy smile.

“shut up— shit’s embarrassing.”

geto grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks together and whispering against your lips, “then i’ll fuck you full of my cum until it’s not, until you know you’re the most beautiful in my eyes, yeah?”

yeah, you could do that.

[angelltheninth]

Back at it again with a request and it’s a Greek god since I still am obsessed with epic the musical, Could you please do a Poseidon x GN reader injury sex after his encounter/stabbing by odysseus? I think that since he’s still hurt even after he got all bandaged up at olympus, he comes to beloved mortal’s home and lets them take the lead and he’s not complaining in the slightest cuz he needed this. (thinking about neal illustrator’s poseidon design and I am foaming at the mouth as I’m writing this)

Neal's Poseidon is one of my favorite Poseidons ngl.

Pairing: Poseidon x Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, injured sex, blowjob, painful sex, kissing, human!Reader, worried!Reader

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Always been a fan of greek mythology. One of my favorite pantheons really. And the talented artists of the Epic fandom made everyone look so hot.

He would never admit that he's injured or hurting. He's always had too much pride for that, too much pride for many things in fact. But when he showed up at your balcony, bleeding and leaving a trail of water behind him it wasn't the time to lecture him about his choices. All but one?

"Came here because I know you'll take care of me. This bed is nice and soft, you're nice and soft. A God needs that in his life from time to time. Even a stubborn one like me. Oh, that? What? Did you really think that being stabbed by a dumb mortal would do anything to dampen my desire for you, my pretty seashell?"

As he kept groaning very unsexily while trying to strip himself of his clothing you took it upon yourself to strip him and get him comfortable on the bed. With a grin he extended his watery arm and pulled you close, allowing you to feel his erection pressing against your hip. You rolled your eyes at how eager he was, even when injured.

"Persistent and stubborn is what I am. I know I've been... drifting from island to island recently however I'm all yours now. Do with me as you wish, take care of me. I'm here to stay, for as long as you will have me. Days, weeks, months. You have the God of the Seas in your bed, at your disposal."

He relaxed on the bed as he felt your hand on his cock, warm and with a few coulases on your fingers but you knew exactly how to handle him. One of his legs hooked around your shoulder to pull you closer, his sharp teeth and blue eyes shining at you with nothing but lust.

"Move that pretty hand of yours or I'm gonna start moving. You wouldn't want to cause me more pain now would you, seashell? Or maybe this is your punishment for me, for being away from you for so long. You know I would never abandon my favorite human, I just had business that needed taking care of. Now I'm here for you to take care of me."

Poseidon's cock and cum tended to taste bitter and salty, way more than you were used to with any human lover. It took time to get used to such a taste but now you wouldn't any other. His cock was a bit warmer than the rest of him, the broad tip leaving a thick drop of cum on your lips as you kiss it. Any other day he would already be grabbing you and fucking his cum down your throat, today was not one of those days, today you were gonna make him lose his mind as you take his cock inch by slow inch into your mouth and hear him groan and complain that you should move faster.

"I'll be the first to admit that I'm an acquired taste. But it's a taste that, judging by how well you're sucking, you've gotten addicted to. Make sure to get all of my cum, yeah. Lick it up until there's not a drop of of it left on my cock. I know you've missed it as much as I've missed the feeling of your lips and mouth."

Despite him being injured he can't stop himself from pushing his cock deep into you and staying there for several moments. The thrust was sudden, it made him growl, it made him lightheaded from pain, but it was quickly replaced by the pleasure of being inside of you. His hands, both flesh and water, caressed your thighs and hips, with a barely controlled lust. You pushed your hips down against his, not too hard but enough to make the God beneath you let out a sound that you knew he wouldn't let anyone else hear.

"Enjoy this now because as soon as my injuries heal up I'm fucking you in every position known to your kind and then some. You missed this as much as I did, didn't you? The feeling of my cock stretching your hole, this feeling of being complete. I missed it too, I missed you so much. Let me show you, let me... ah... fill you up!"

[allfearstofallto]

Am soo happy to see your back even if it's just for a short while I hope your doing okey and that everything is good with life and work 😊 i wanted to ask if it was possible how do you think Yan Scara would react if reader got sick ? Would he be worried ? Would he try to tend to them or leave it to the doctors and servants ?

Again thank you so much for taking time for us 💕

My asks are FULL of this exact same question, I'm not joking 😭😭 so I just wrote all of them.

Sick Day

Yandere! x Fem! Reader

Featuring: Diluc, Childe, and Scaramouche

Diluc spent most of his life taking care of himself. Before and after the passing of his father, he was independent to a worrying degree for a young child. So when he got sick, he paid it little mind. He took the proper medicine and if the fever was mild enough, he'd still be sitting at his desk filing his mountains of paperwork. The only indication that he was unwell being the slight rasp of his voice and flush of his cheeks.

But that was because Diluc didn't care much for his own well-being. His body wasn't useful for much other than work, but only he believed that. The day you wake up with a cough and runny nose, mentioning to the head maid that you can't leave the bed because you're so lightheaded, Diluc is in shambles. The second the news makes it to his ears that you're under the weather, he's rushing to your bed chambers, at your side even when you don't want him.

Diluc can't stand the idea of losing you. You can hate him until Teyvat freezes over, it hurts, but at the very least he knows you're well. So the second you fall ill, a part of him feels shame for his inability to protect you, the other feels a visceral fear that you won't be around anymore.

For days you're catered to in bed. Not just by maids, but Diluc too. You're given soft, warm foods and plenty of water. Your temperature is taken three times a day by a doctor, who insists that if you're not awake to eat, you should sleep more to regain your strength. You wondered how much Diluc threatened him to get him to say the same thing over and over.

The day that you're deemed well and cleared to roam the manor freely again, is supposed to be a joyous one for you. As much as you love your room, you were growing sick of the wallpaper and you could only look at the same painting so many times before it frustrated you instead of entertaining. But overbearing Diluc is still around, watching you with worried eyes and begging you to take breaks to rest after every three steps you take.

Ajax is the epitome of an old wife when it comes to health remedies. With all of his siblings, some of which he ended up taking care of as he got older, he picked up a thing or two from the way his mother cared for him when he was sick. Her remedies, while strange to those from other countries, always had him in tiptop shape in a day or two.

It didn't help that you didn't hail from Snezhnaya. Liyue got cold, but even the hottest day in Snezhnaya was colder than the coldest in Liyue. Your body would have to acclimate to your new climate, meaning that even if he tried to keep you warm at night with the fireplace roaring and many blankets, all it would take was a little Snezhnayan air tickling your nostrils to make you wake up with a cold.

Using what his mother taught him and what her mother taught her before, he woke you up from your sleep when he noticed your runny nose and tears in your eyes. Pressing a hand against your forehead to check your temperature, all while your dreary eyes slowly blinked, wordlessly begging for more sleep.

“You'll rest soon, my angel, but I need you to drink this first,” Childe spoke in the softest voice he could muster, so as not to intensify your headache.

He knew something was wrong with you, the way you took the cup from his hands and downed without batting an eye. The little grimace your face made when the vodka hit your tongue was cute, but he tried not to get lost in your features while you were still sick and needy for assistance. His mother did a lot of things when he fell ill, but a shot of vodka was always the first. You were out cold after swallowing it down.

Despite his love for you, Ajax doesn't worry when you're sick. He believes that sickness is just one of the many battles of life and that there's no way you won't succeed in conquering it. Even after you're better, Childe insists that the two of you do some light exercises together. You can complain that it's your first day healthy, but he won't listen. Strengthening your body will keep you from getting sick again.

Even though he's lived for hundreds of years, Scaramouche doesn't quite understand the human body. Improper conditions for a prolonged time will just make you cease to work? And in the most inconvenient way possible as well? It's annoying and far too inconvenient.

Or, that's what he told himself. But when he looks over at you that first morning when you're sick, sweay pooling on your forehead and seemingly unable to breathe, something tugs at his heart. He feels something for you, watching as even in your dreams you're writhing in pain. Scaramouche feels pity. He assumes it's something he can only feel towards you because his heart sings for you.

“What are you doing?” Scaramouche questions a maid who he bumped into in the hallway.

Even though she carried a bowl of water in her hands, she still found a way to bow, “I received news that the Lady has a fever, my lord. A towel soaked in cold water on her forehead will help break it.”

He hummed. He'd heard of such things, but never thought that he himself would see them being used. A sense of urgency took over him when he realized that this would help you though, a need to be the one doing it for you.

“She'll be more comfortable with someone she's familiar with. Let me do it,” he ordered while snatching the bowl from her hands.

She opened her mouth to question him, but he shot her a glare before she could. He marched back to his room promptly, kneeling beside you as you slept. As the maid said, the cool towel did work. You seemed less pained when he placed it on your forehead.

After that moment, Scaramouche insisted he be the one doing everything for you while you were sick. Feeding you ginger soup, changing your blankets, nursing you back health without any assistance. All because he assured everyone that you'd be more comfortable with him doing it, although you rarely even opened your tired eyes the entire time you were getting better, so you had no idea who was cradling you in their arms and insisting you eat more.

When you're better, you're under the assumption that the maids are the ones who helped you, knowing that while you're sick you're practically comatose. But they insist that it wasn't them, saying that Lord Scaramouche himself cared for you and stayed by your side the entire time.

He'll never admit it though, brushing you off by saying something along the lines of, “Why are you saying such stupid things?”

[dollieomens]

you’re the love of my life

pairing: long hair!noah sebastian x gn!reader

content warnings: some pet names, tooth rotting fluff

a/n: random thought, kinda inspired by a bunch of fluffy noah fics. was supposed to be a birthday thing for him.

dividers by saradika-graphics !!

You weren’t sure why you were awake, but your eyes were fluttering open and blinking rapidly to adjust to the dark room. It was early in the morning still, around 6 am. Noah was sound asleep on your chest, face buried against your neck. He loves laying like this, with his arms wrapped around you and holding you as close as possible.

You yawned and shifted a little, causing Noah’s arms to tighten around you. He stirred, letting out a small grunt and nuzzling your neck, before going still again. Every time you moved, he went with you, he wouldn’t let go of you. You hadn’t realized he woke up until he murmured something against your chest.

“Stop movin’ s’muchhh, wanna keep snugglin with you,”

A small smile spread across your face, hand coming up to thread through his tangled locks and murmuring a soft “sorry,” . Your fingertips rubbing his scalp seemed to calm him, melting into you. His breath was warm against your skin.

It didn’t take long for him to fall back asleep, he was finally satisfied and let himself go back to dreamland when you were trapped under his weight. You didn’t mind though, he felt like a warm weighted blanket, comfy. Your eyelids were getting heavier, blinks becoming longer, fingers slowing their movements on his scalp. With one more press of your lips against his forehead, you were right off to sleep again.

Noah’s eyes fluttered open when he felt soft kisses being pressed on his face, smiling when you came into view. “G’morning angel,” He nuzzled his nose against yours, the familiar scent of your perfume engulfing his senses. “Morning Noe, I made you coffee.” He hummed and closed his eyes again when you ran your fingers through his hair, pouting when you pulled away.

“Mmh, coffee can wait, cmer,” Squeals filled the room as he drug you by your hips, pulling you on top of him. You smiled when he pressed his lips against yours, so, so softly. He’s always so gentle with you, as if you’re a porcelain doll and you’ll break even if he’s slightly rough with you.

You managed to murmur a “happy birthday,” in between kisses, feeling his smile grow against your lips. They were so soft, so kissable. You only pulled away when you started to feel lightheaded giggling at the way he started pouting. Oxygen doesn’t matter to him when it comes to kissing you.

The way he was looking at you made you melt, soft brown eyes locking onto yours. He looked so pretty, messy brown hair framing his face, the slight sprinkle of freckles on his nose and cheeks, the way the light peaking through the curtains shining on his face; he’s perfect.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” His cheeks turned a soft pink, smiling wider. “Hmm, I‘m not sure,” You both knew that was a white lie, he just wanted to hear you say it for the 100th time. You giggled, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands.

“Well, you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, and I mean that. My pretty boy,” You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then his forehead, and lips. You could feel the way he smiled really big against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“And you’re the prettiest, most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You pulled back to smile at him, leaning your forehead against his. Mornings like this are the ones you love most, where you both kiss and hold onto each other as if it was the last time you’d be able to, where there is soft words of affirmation and just love. You always think back to the first time he told you he loved you, when you were jamming out to your playlist and doing whatever in your living room.

You’re the best thing that’s happened to him, and he wouldn’t trade you for anything.

It’s around noon now, you made Noah wait downstairs while you made sure your gift was perfect. It’s a book, but it’s a special one. Every page is filled with pictures of you and him, with the band, places you’ve been to with each other, your first date, etc. Theres the date and time under each one, most of them are polaroids of you and Noah. You drew and cut out hearts and mini envelopes and put some on the pages, even coloured and drew some pictures to put on them as well.

The front of it labeled “The Love of My life” with a white heart, since the cover is all black. You were really hoping he would like it.

You skipped downstairs, nearly tripping as you walked towards him where he was on the couch. He looked up from his phone when he heard you walk up to him, confusion written on his face when he saw the neatly wrapped gift in your hands.

“What’s this?” He asked softly when you handed it to him, sucking in on your lip nervously. “A gift, been working on it for a long time.” He smiled up at you, his hands untying the ribbon around it. It was a pretty shade of green, the wrapping paper a darker green to match. He carefully unwrapped it as if it was the most delicate thing made, setting the paper aside.

You watched as he looked at and read every page, watching the way he smiled a little wider at each one. You couldn’t see it at first, but he teared up a little at the last page. It was about how happy you were to have him in your life, how he made you smile, how you loved everything about him, how he made everything better.

“I-.. I don’t know what to say, angel.” That’s when you saw the way his eyes were glassy when he looked up at you. You plopped down beside him, cupping his cheek to make him look at you. “You don’t have to, baby.” His hands moved to curve around your sides, pulling you on top of him and holding you against his chest. He just wanted to hold you, to feel your warm skin against his.

“I love you, so, so much sweetheart.”

You smiled against his neck, pressing a soft kiss against it. “I love you too, Noe.”

Pizza boxes and cups laid in front of you on the table, a blanket wrapped around you as you leaned against Noah. You two sat on the couch, watching him play Mario Cart with Nicholas. The guys had came over a few hours ago to celebrate his birthday, all taking turns on the game.

“Nooo!! You fucker!” You giggled as Nick shouted when Noah beat him again, everyone laughing a good bit. Noah passed the controller to Jolly, and Nick passed his to Davis. His arm wrapped around you again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You smiled at him sleepily, yawning a little when you snuggled into his side.

“Tired baby? You can go upstairs if you want, you don’t have to stay in here.” You shook your head, moving further onto him. You’d rather sleep down here with all the noise than leave his side. You could already feel yourself dozing off, but it was okay, there’s really no place you’d rather be than right here with the guys, and your beloved Noah.

[0310s]

wiping something off their lips (jaehyun ver.) 𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

members: boynextdoor legal line x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, they have a crush on u waaah >_<!!!

wc: 1.6k

a/n: this was supposed to be 600 words... something insane happened in my brain and i churned out 1.6k in an hour. let me know if you liked this <3

ᯓ★ 

as the #1 messiest eater in boynextdoor, this scenario is most likely to happen to him… have you seen the multiple videos of riwoo wiping food off his lips… also aside from being #1 messiest eater he is also #1 babiest baby boy of boynextdoor.

when you’re both walking along the streets of seoul and spot a vendor selling cream-filled pastries, jaehyun rushes forward to purchase two—one for him, and one for you. he’s so excited that he gobbles down his pastry and makes an entire mess. there’s cream all over his lips, and he looks like one of those happy babies with food smeared all over their mouth (although not to that extent… but almost lmfao)!!! he doesn’t notice the mess he’s made until you grip his chin and tell him to “stay still.” you pull out a wet wipe from your bag and carefully dab at his lips. 

with your eyes still trained on his mouth, jaehyun takes this moment to stare at you. he’s always known you were pretty, but something about you being this near him is making him feel utterly lightheaded. your perfume is sweet and comforting, and your fingers on his lips feel so gentle. whether it be your scent or your voice or your presence, he likes everything about you… wait, like?

“all done! you gotta be more careful next time,” you lament, disposing the wipe in a nearby trashcan. “anyway, those creampuffs were the best thing i’ve ever tasted since the tiramisu we ate last month…” at his lack of response, you realize jaehyun’s not walking beside you, and you swivel around to see him standing stock still in the middle of the street. his expression looks like he’s come to some sort of realization. “jaehyun?” you bound over to him and wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps out of his little daze.

“yeah? no, yeah, sorry, i just… let’s go,” jaehyun starts walking, and you trail after him, confused. what was that about?

“so i actually like like them,” jaehyun announces back at the dorm. “i thought it was normal that i found them cute and everything, because anyone with eyes can see that! i didn’t think that it was deeper than that. but i realized that it wasn’t just about their looks… i just. really enjoy their presence and how i can be myself in front of them, like, really myself you know???” taesan and leehan share a look before shaking their heads in unison. “hey!” jaehyun protests. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“we know,” taesan bemoans. “you talk about them your every waking moment, and whenever you spend time with us, you always talk about how you wish they were here.”

“taesan’s right,” leehan adds. “you look at them like they hung the stars. i think it’s obvious to everyone except you, honestly. and them too, because they think you flirt like that with everyone.”

jaehyun groans in response, messing up his hair in frustration. “so… what am i gonna do? it’s not like they like me back. this is driving me crazy... how am i supposed to act around them now that i know i like them?!” his friends share another look. “don’t do that!”

“calm down, jaehyun.” leehan comfortingly pats his friend on the shoulder. “why don’t you treat them as a friend first while you’re unsure about what to do next? after all, you like them as a friend too. i’m sure your dynamic wouldn’t change that quickly.” jaehyun nods in agreement, swearing to do exactly that.

taesan laughs at this. “well, i think jaehyun’s going to fuck this up by being very awkward and obvious.” 

leehan shoots taesan a glare. “don’t mind him, jaehyun. we’re both on your side.” taesan huffs but doesn’t disagree. okay, jaehyun. just be normal. how difficult can it be? 

it proves to be extremely difficult, actually. the next time you hang out together, jaehyun thinks everything is going well, and both of you are talking and laughing like normal. half an hour later, you and jaehyun are snacking on bunggeopang on the side of the road. the streets are empty today save for a few high school students milling about. jaehyun, unaware of how messy an eater he is, is too enthusiastic about his pastry. he’s gesticulating wildly, reenacting a funny story that happened to him days ago, and doesn’t notice until you firmly grip his chin between your fingers. “jaehyun, stop moving for a second.” oh fuck. be normal, be normal, be normal…

expecting to feel cool cloth on his face, jaehyun all but freezes when you use your thumb instead to wipe off the pastry filling on the corner of his mouth. oh god. oh fuck. oh fuck fuck fucking god fuckity fuck fuck. “sorry, don’t have wipes with me this time,” your tone is regretful. jaehyun feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest. he attempts to wriggle out of your hold, but you grip him even harder. “stay, jaehyun.” oh god, that made me feel some sort of way. fuck, wait! be normal, be normal, don’t say anything… “i’m not done. there’s still some on your…” 

to make it worse (or better, jaehyun can’t tell at this point), you trail your thumb over his bottom lip several times, nodding when you’re sure there are no more smears. “there! all clean,” you declare, finally letting go of jaehyun. he feels his knees go weak as you suck your thumb into your mouth, releasing it with a pop. you’re wearing a very pretty lip gloss. oh fuck. “ooh, custard filling, my favorite! i should have gotten that flavor… maybe next time,” you sigh forlornly. “anyway, jaehyun, should we get going?”

“uhhhhhhhhhhh,” is the only thing jaehyun can respond with. his brain is malfunctioning and he can’t do words anymore. “uhhhhhhhhhhh.” 

you frown in concern and put a hand on his shoulder. “jaehyun? is something wrong-”

jaehyun can’t do this anymore. “ilikeyousomuchihaveacrushonyou,” he blurts out all in one breath, hiding his face in his hands out of mortification. “i’m sorry. i thought i could pretend and act like things were normal between us, but ever since you wiped my mouth last week and you were so close to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and how i feel so nervous around you now that my heart is just going insane. i just had to be honest with you, i don’t think i can keep it a secret. i tried but i failed and. i. i…” 

at your lack of response, jaehyun peeks at you through his fingers. you’re stone-still, and he can’t tell what you’re thinking. oh fuck. he suddenly recalls his promise with leehan and taesan to treat you as a friend first and realizes how badly he’s fucked up. a fresh wave of fear overcomes him, not just at the thought of you rejecting him, but at the notion of losing your friendship. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck… 

jaehyun’s trying his best not to cry, but he feels so miserable. “i’m sorry, you can ignore that, i don’t want to lose our friendship, i promise that i won’t let my feelings affect our friendship, please, i still want us to be friends.” maybe if he rambles long enough, he thinks, he can suppress the impulse to wail like a little child. 

“wait, jaehyun, i… you like like me?” he nods. “like, more than friends?” he nods again. “like… romantically?”

“yeah,” jaehyun lets out an exhale. “‘m sorry i confessed all of a sudden. i just. couldn’t keep it in anymore. i just have all these feelings for you that i didn’t know where to put them. but i swear,” he pleads, “we don’t have to talk about this. we can just move on from this and i won’t bother you with my feelings ever again. i, i really care for you and still want to be your friend…” 

“what if…” you whisper, “i don’t want to?” 

jaehyun’s face falls, and it takes everything in him not to sob. he’s never even considered the possibility you might not want to be friends anymore. “oh. i. i mean that’s totally understandable. i respect that, yeah. i must have made you uncomfortable. i’m sorry. i won’t bother you anymore.” don’t cry in front of them, jaehyun, don’t cry…

but before jaehyun can turn to leave, you grip his hand tightly so he can’t escape.“no, jaehyun. i mean… what if i didn’t want to move on? what if… i want us to be more than friends too?” 

jaehyun can’t believe what he’s hearing. “wait. are you serious?” a feeling akin to hope blooms inside him. 

you nod, your expression growing shyer by the minute. “you’re always so kind and attentive to me. you listen to me whether i’m feeling good or shitty, and you never mock me. and… you’re also really cute,” you giggle. “i honestly thought you saw me as a friend because you flirt with literally everyone… until you confessed, now. i really like you too, jaehyun, if you’ll have me…?” you still haven’t let go of his hand, and you’re idly playing with his fingers while waiting for his response. 

“OH MY GOD YES! i mean, yes! me too! please! i would. like. yes. i want. to be your boyfriend, oh my god, sorry, i keep stumbling over my words like an idiot,” jaehyun babbles. he feels his hand grow sweaty with nerves and tries to twist out of your grasp. instead, you beam, pull him in with your intertwined hands, and peck his cheek. oh my god, they just kissed me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“well… at least you can be my idiot. now let’s go!” you don’t let go of his hand, and jaehyun has a dopey, lovestruck grin on his face all the way back.

[theoriginalkaminari]

Attention span of a squirrel

Shoto Todoroki with an S/O who is very silly

Also seriously pls do not repost or reblog

Warnings: swearing sorta? Uh reader is GN and stuff.

Also the reason I call this 'Attention span of a squirrel' is bc squirrels have the attention span of uhhhhhh

Shoto was hanging from a rope, ankle first and upside down. The rope made him spin around the room very slowly as he felt the blood go to his head.

To make things worse, Shoto was dangling over a pit. It was foggy down there, so he wasn't able to see the bottom.

You both were chosen to go against Aizawa for this project, to see how well you did in a real villain situation.

So far?

Not so great.

Shoto was beginning to feel lightheaded, so he called out to you to try and bring your attention back to the situation.

"L/N." He calls, making you jolt out of your distracted state and back at him. "Hm?" You look up at him. "Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot." You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

"Okay...so..." You tap your chin in thought as you stare at the rope wrapped around Shoto's ankle. "If I were me...which I am...then how would I get Shoto out of here?" You jut out your bottom lip slightly, narrowing your eyes as if it would make you think harder.

"I don't mean to rush you," Shoto begins in his usual monotone voice. "But Mr. Aizawa could be approaching." He says, spinning slowly as the rope clings to his ankle.

You don't seem to hear this, as you're staring down at the pit. "Aha! I've got the situation!" You grin confidently, stumbling slightly as you take off your right shoe. Shoto raises an eyebrow, confused to what you were doing.

Then you suddenly throw your shoe into the pit. "One..." And you begin counting. "Two...three....four.....five..." You continue. Shoto feels confused as he stares at you. What the hell were you doing?

"L/N. What are you doing?" He finally asks, eyes still trained on your every move.

After you count to ten, you beam proudly, like you made a shocking discovery. At least, you thought you did.

"Well my icy friend," You begin as you point down into the pit. "We have discovered a bottomless pi-" You were interrupted by a soft 'thud' of your shoe finally hitting the bottom of the pit.

"Oh. Nevermind. Not bottomless, just ten seconds deep."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Shoto asks, tilting his head as best he can. You just turn back and grin at him.

"Well, if I cut you down from there, at least I know how long you'll be falling for!" You beam, like you've solved all world problems.

"Okay, now hold still." You try to reach for the rope, but stumble and almost fall into the pit. "Whoa!" You yelp lightly as the dirt crumbles beneath your feet. Luckily you got out of the way in time.

"Okay! New plan." You clap your hands together. Then, to Shoto's dismay, you begin to pace around the pit. After a while, you grin. Its not an innocent grin, but a mischievous one. Almost Bakugo like.

You suddenly run backwards. Shoto sighs in disappointment, thinking you've given up on him. "How do I-" He stops himself when he looks back at you, now charging at him. "L/N! What are you-"

You grin as you jump off the ledge of the pit, jumping up to grab him. You use a pocket knife to cut the rope in the process so you both don't get stuck.

You and Shoto tumble onto the otherside, landing into a pile of eachother.

Sort of a 69 position.

Quickly, you both pull away and stand up.

Shoto feels embarrassed, looking away from you and not knowing what to say.

That is, until you clear your throat. "So...here." You hand him a small amethyst rock. Maybe you collected it a while ago, or you found it somewhere. Eitherway, you don't really remember.

Shoto tilts his head, looking at the amethyst in your palm, then back at your face. "Whats this?" He asks.

You smile softly, finding his confusion amusing. "A gift! See? Its pretty, like you." You beam. Shoto swears he sees light emitting from you as you smile at him. Shoto gives a small smile in return, and takes the amethyst. "Thank you, L/N." He says, his voice soft.

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips. "And since I gave you a gift, we're friends now. Is that okay?" You say, even though Shoto doesn't have a choice in the matter.

Shoto puts the amethyst in his pocket. "Okay."

You grin and give him a small thumbs up. "Great! So you have to call me by my first name now, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, Y/N."

"Atta boy!"

Shoto smiles softly. He feels a sudden feeling in his chest, snapping him out of his thoughts. He places a hand on his chest, suddenly very confused.

Did my heart skip a beat? Do I have heart problems? Perhaps I should see Recovery Girl after this.... He thought.

Eventually, the day ended, and everyone was heading to their dorm rooms to finally get some sleep.

All except Shoto. He stayed on the green couch in the lounge, staring blankly at the wall, lost in thought.

"We're friends now, so you have to call me by my first name!" Your voice rang in his head like a lullaby.

A week passed, and you and Shoto stared hanging out more. You would say things like:

"Shoto! Do you ever thinks ants get lonely?"

"Shoto! Did you know worms have an asshole?"

"Shoto! Whats your least favorite animal?"

Things that would make him smile, or things that would make him confused. Things that would make him think, or things that would make him surprised.

Every little thing you did made him have a soft and warm feeling in his chest. Shoto, completely oblivious to these feelings, decides to confront his friend, Izuku. One night, everyone is staring to head to bed, when Shoto approaches Izuku.

"Midoriya." He says, staring the conversation. "I need your help."

Izuku tilts his head, looking up at his friend. His green eyes fill with curiosity. "What is it, Todoroki? Is everything okay?" He wonders.

"I think I have heart problems." Shoto says, in earshot for Mina and Ochako to hear.

"WHAT?!" Mina gasps, suddenly very interested to Shoto's conversation with Izuku. Mina and Ochako rush over to them, their eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay, Todoroki? Should we get you to the hospital?" Midoriya asks, standing up as his expression turns to one of concern.

Shoto thinks for a moment, before speaking again. "No. I just feel a warm feeling in my chest, and sometimes my heart skips a beat. Sometimes my face gets hot, even though I try and cool myself down with my left side."

Mina and Ochako's eyes widen. The two beam, leaning ever so closely to Shoto. "Do you feel this way around a certain someone?" Mina says, her voice giddy and excited.

Shoto nods. "Yes, it happens around L/- I mean, Y/N."

Mina and Ochako squeal, while Izuku sighs in relief, glad his friend isn't suffering from any heart failure.

"What? What is it?" Shoto looks at them all, very confused. Did he really have heart problems...?

"Its love!" Mina grabs Ochako's hands, the two of them bouncing around in circles.

"Love..?" Shoto tilts his head. "Yes, Y/N is my friend. I care for them deeply." He nods, confused to why Mina and Ochako were makeing a big deal about this fact.

"No, Todoroki!" Mina looks at him in the eyes as she stops bouncing. "Romantic love." She corrects.

Something in Shoto's brain clicks. "Oh." He says quietly, a soft dusty pink tainting his cheeks.

Shoto began to hang out with you more, staying by your side as you ramble about silly things, or smiling as you show him silly things.

Until one day, Izuku encouraged him to confess.

Shoto asked you to meet him at the courtyard after school, and you did. Shoto took a deep breath, trying to gather his nerves before he spoke to you.

"Y/N." He says softly as he looks into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes...the ones he could get lost in for hours. The ones he loved staring into.

"I have feelings for you. Romantic ones." He finally says after a moment of silence.

You, being the person you were, holds up a hand for him to high-five. "Dude, no way, that is awesome sauce!" You say.

Shoto looks at you in confusion and disbelief. You suddenly cover your mouth in embarrassment, muttering quiet apologizes.

"Oh god, I'm really sorry, Shoto! It just popped into my head and then my mouth talked and then it all fell apart but what I ment to say was..." You take a deep breath, and look at him in the eyes.

"I love you. Like a lot." You hold out your arms as far as they could go. "If I was able to, I would stretch my arms pur way further but this is as far as they can go. But I really do love you!" You beam.

Shoto chuckles softly at your antics. He suddenly feels...complete.

You smile as well, and lower your hands. Then, you slowly extend your hand out to him to take. Shoto's eyes light up slightly. He slowly take your hand, and you intertwine your fingers with his.

"Now I get to tell people I have my own furnace AND my own cooler!" You grin brightly, making Shoto chuckle again.

He kisses your cheek gently. "Your pretty." He whispers.

And so doofus and doofus 2.0 relationship begins.

[powermakar]

This is me Trying - LS2

A/N: I feel so bad for Logan after what has happened. Please don't send any type of hate to Alex.

Summary: James tells Logan that he won't be racing on Sunday and everything goes down hill.

Logan Sergeant x female!reader

Warnings: panic attacks and some swearing

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying, at least I'm trying. 

“-so you won’t be able to drive this weekend” 

“What?” 

“Alex is going to be driving your car this weekend since his car is severely damaged.”

“Oh, okay,” Logan felt numb. He couldn’t feel his hands shaking, but he could see them physically shaking. 

“I know it’s a lot but the team really needs this Logan. Thank you for doing this,” James said before walking off. 

Logan began to feel himself lose touch with reality. It was a feeling he was beginning to feel comfortable with. I mean at this point it was happening every race weekend now, so he just HAD to get comfortable with it. At first, he didn’t know what it was, maybe he was just getting sick; but after a few times and some Google searches, he figured out what it was. 

Panic attacks. 

No one knew that he experienced them. Not James, not his trainer, not Oscar; hell, his own girlfriend did not know that he got them. He had to get out of there fast so no one found out. God, he couldn't even imagine what the media would do if it became public knowledge. 

Tears and ragged breaths while hidden in the corners of his driver’s room became his go-to when he didn’t know what else to do. This time it felt different though. The sobs were louder and his vision was blurrier, he felt weak. He felt stupid. How could someone fuck up so badly and he still would get punished. He knew life wasn’t fair and he knew that Formula 1 wasn’t fair either. 

But fuck, it wasn’t fair. At all. 

The knock on the door did not register the first time, nor the second or third. He only realized someone entered the room when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. 

You, the love of his life, was seeing him at the lowest he had ever been. Gasps in between sobs were loud and short, and Logan felt embarrassed. He felt shameful and afraid. He couldn’t breathe and he was scared for his future. 

“It’s not fair, it's not fair, it’s just not fucking fair. I'm trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. Can’t you see that? Can’t anyone see that,” he babbled out. 

“Logan I- I know that this is hard, you worked so hard. You deserve to be driving, you shouldn’t be placed on the back burner because someone made a mistake. You’ve worked so hard for so long and it kills me to see you like this. Have you thought about how Alex may-,” Logan cut you off before you could say anything else. 

“No, no. Do not even start with Alex. I know he’s better, I know I am a liability, but I know I can try to be better,” he got up suddenly. He felt lightheaded, he felt dizzy. Stumbling around his room trying to get away from you. “I finally out-performed him and it just gets ripped out from underneath me. Literally,” Logan laughs bitterly. He didn’t care what he looked like now, he probably looked like a madman, but who the hell cares anymore?

“Logan- please just listen to me. Alex probably feels like shit. Yes he crashed his car but it's not his fault the team gave him your car. It's the team,” she pauses “It’s- it’s James’ fault.” 

“I don’t care whose fault it is. I just care about the fact that this is probably going to be one of the last times I'm going to be in F1. My time is going to get cut short, no one has any faith in me anymore. I don’t blame them though, I’m failing and I'm terrified,” Logan says. He could finally breathe normally but he could still feel his heart pounding in his ears. 

He didn’t understand any of it. How could he be failing so badly at something he used to be so good at? He glanced back at you, ready to face the disappointment he knew you secretly hid. 

“Just tell me you can’t stand me anymore. Tell me that I embarrass you. Tell me that you hate me. Tell me that you are disappointed in me. Please just tell me, please.”

“Logan-,” you were in shock. You never knew that he felt like this, about himself. He hid it so well, almost to the point where it was impressive. “You know I could never say any of those things to you. I love you so, so much and I'm so proud of you,”

Both of you heard a knock on the door and one of William’s PR managers called out, “Media in 10, Logan!”

How they expected him to go out into the media pen and act like everything was fine was beyond you. Reaching up to cup his face in your hands, you quickly wipe away a stray tear that fell at your confession. Logan gently squeezed your wrist and smiled sadly. A silent, but meaningful conversation.

[ysrjune]

what would teen!dad scott be like during leo’s birth ?

he'd be really nervous and stressed out. When you told him your water broke, he was repeatedly asking if you were joking. He feels sort of under pressure, so he's like, "Do I call 911?" and then runs out of the room to go ask his parents for help. He and his dad take your bags to the car and stuff while his mom is helping you out of the house. She's doing really well with calming you down.

He didn't wanna be in the room when you were giving birth, no way. That was gross. But his mom guilt tripped him into it. "What if she wants you to hold your hand and you're not there? What if she's scared and she needs you?" He felt really bad thinking about it, so he went along with you in the delivery room.

All your crying and whining made him feel horrible. He didn't want you to be in pain. To try and take your mind off of it, he started up a few conversations. "So, um.. you-you said that you uh want to name him Leo?" He holds your hand. "Cause like.. you also that you uh liked the name Eric." His hand shifts to your belly. "Leo. I like the name Leo." You breathe out.

When it was finally time, he was so scared. What if Leo wasn't healthy? What if he died? What if you died? What would he do? There was so much running in his mind. "You're good, you're good.." He keeps his eyes away from the scene and fixes them on your face. "You're doing a really good job, I think." Scott leans down and kisses your sweaty forehead and pushes the hairs away from your face.

Hearing Leo cry was when he started to calm down a little bit. He wasn't still born, so that was great. His eyes switched down a little, and he saw Leo's head along with blood on the bed and other fluids. Scott gagged and looked away. "Oh my God, Oh my God." He squeezes his eyes shut, holding onto your hand.

The doctors had to move him away from you for a quick second. He ended somewhere at the edge of the bed, and he got a full view of when Leo slipped out all the way and the doctor took him. Scott fainted within a second. That was the craziest thing he's ever seen.

—

He woke up on the couch in the waiting area with your and his parents. He was scared. Why wasn't he with you? He needed to be with you. "Why am I here? I was just in there!" Scott worries and feels lightheaded when he stands up. "Scott.. the baby is alr-'

"I don't care about the damn baby, dad! I need to see her Now." He did care about Leo, but his main priority right now was you. Were you okay? 30 minutes later, they let Scott go to the room you and Leo were in. He sees you holding him and he immediately starts to bawl his eyes out. "Thank God you're okay." He sniffs and kisses you. You smile and wipe his tears. "Look," You tell him.

The baby was so small. Was that even normal? "He looks just like you. Ugly." Scott jokes. "Yeah right." You roll your eyes. "Wanna hold?" Scott nods and carefully takes Leo in his arms. The baby let out a soft noise and that made Scott want to cry even more. His baby boy was so cute. "Aw. I guess he's not that bad looking. Can we keep him?" Scott asked like if Leo was a puppy to adopt. "Duh." You giggled.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝕬𝖍, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪: what we do in the shadows

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you’re a half-blood vampire and you take your first victim.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: canon typical themes, brief cathartic violence, (implied) attempted sa, minor character death, blo0d (obviously)

𝔞/𝔫: the ending may be a bit rushed I just really wanted to post this already

“I was bitten, I believe…” you began, pausing for a moment to do some math in your head, wiggling one of your feet as you sat on the couch. “Two months ago. And y’know, in terms of vampirism, being a half-blood has its perks.” you continued with a shrug.

The scene cuts to you sitting in your bedroom in the light of the sun, completely unharmed. And your bed wasn’t a coffin, but took a similar shape. You gave the coffin a try once when you were first turned, but you couldn’t really sleep. Another scene showed you snacking on a Kit-Kat while reading.

“I can still eat human food, though I am garlic intolerant now, which is kind of a bummer. But that’s not even my biggest problem.”

The camera shows footage of you unscrewing the cap on a liter bottle containing a thick, dark burgundy liquid before pouring it into a glass.

“My vampire half still needs blood, like once or twice a week. Found that out the hard way.”

During your first week of being a vampire, you got very lightheaded and fainted in the middle of the hall since you hadn’t drank any blood since turning. Since you could digest human food, you could go a bit longer than most vampires without blood, but you still needed it.

“Straight up, I’m not a fan. Drinking it is one thing, draining it from the body is another.” you admitted, shaking your head and shrugging. “I ju- I can’t. I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

Thankfully, Lazlo had recently taken a victim that day so they gathered enough spare blood out of the chap to give to you.

The cameras cut to an interview with Lazlo and Nadja, sitting side by side as per usual.

“We don’t really mind saving blood for them sometimes,” Nadja said. “Most of our victims, we don’t even finish all the way.”

The footage cuts to a short scene of Nadja holding up a still bleeding victim by the shirt whilst Guillermo holds the aforementioned liter bottle with a funnel in the top to collect blood, grimacing and trying to just focus on keeping the funnel in the bottle.

“Yes, but we do believe it’s about time they learn to attain blood for themself.” Lazlo said, and Nadja nodded in agreement. “The only thing I’ve seen them drain was a goose. And even after that, they insisted on burying it.”

“Even though it bit the shit out of them.” Nadja added. “In the wild, baby animals rely on their mothers for sustenance for the first few months of their lives before learning to hunt for themselves. (Name) is kind of like our weird little pup.”

You knew they were right. You had been a vampire for two months, and you still had yet to take a human victim. The problem was that you would always overthink it. For one thing, you didn’t want to kill an innocent person, but he cause of all the ‘what if’s, you couldn’t really detect anyone really deserving of such a gruesome and sudden death. Curse this big heart of yours. Plus it was New York, and Staten Island for that matter. Who knows where these people have been and what’s running through their veins?

But half-blood or not, learning to hunt is essential.

Anyway, you were walking through the streets one night with the others since they had recently found a good hunting ground and didn’t want to leave you alone in the house. Nandor suggested that maybe one of them would have the general disposition of a goose and you could drain them. You weren’t too sure about that, but thanked him anyway.

Now, one of the perks of your vampire half was an enhanced sense of hearing, and because of this, you overheard a conversation from inside one of the apartments,

“I’m should really go now… I can’t stand up.”

That made you stop. If your blood wasn’t already running cold, it just got colder. Guillermo seemed to notice you falling behind. “(Name), are you still coming?”

“Uh, yeah, um..” you hesitated, glancing between them and the apartment, bouncing on your feet slightly. “I’ll uh.. I’ll meet you guys there, okay? I’ll just be a minute.”

Before they could respond, you turned into a bat and flew up towards wherever the voice came from. A knot began to form in your tiny stomach as you dreaded what you might find, and when you came up to the window, your suspicions were confirmed as you peered into the dimly lit room. That was all you needed to bare your teeth and shift back into your human form, rearing your foot back to kick the window open.

It seemed the universe noticed you needed incentive and answered.

Nadja wiped some excess blood from her jaw and licked her lips, humming contently. It had been only been about twenty minutes since you went off on your own, and she hoped you were alright, wondering what you could have been doing. As if on cue, she heard a familiar squeaking and the sound of little wings flapping towards them.

“Nadja! Nadja Nadja Na-”

POOF

“Nadja!” you exclaimed joyfully after landing on your feet and regaining your composure. All three vampires and one human turned to face your direction, and were surprised to see you with a beaming smile on your blood stained face. “I did it!” you exclaimed with excitement, panting slightly.

Realization dawned on the pod of vampires, and Nadja’s smile grew to match your own.

“All by yourself?” “Yes!!”

Laughter filled the air as Nadja pulled you in for a short hug. You sighed in exhilaration, “Call em crazy but I kinda wanna do it again.”

“We have plenty of time before the sun rises again,” Lazlo said, smiling proudly at you with a hand around your shoulders as you walked with them. “Plenty of time to get your practice in.”

Yeah, you were gonna do just like fine.