#we're past the point of conversation

[moldycigarette]

this x simon “ghost” riley

cw!: praise, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, bulge, simon’s a nasty dog (and i tried to warn ya)

—————

simon never fails to remind you how much bigger he is than you.

you’re short? no problem, all those missing inches go to simon. oh wait you’re tall? whatever, he still towers over you.

are you chubby by society’s standards? just means there’s more for him to love. skinny? that’s okay too, he’s always down to eat whatever you can’t finish.

no matter what size or shape you are, it’s a guarantee that simon is still bigger than you. and he always manages to remind you of that in the bedroom.

his large hands around your waist, pounding into you with his thick cock. he obsesses over the bulge in your cute tummy from his size, practically drooling over the fact that he can’t even fit inside you’re pretty pussy all the way.

whether he’s fucking you doggy style or in a mating press, he will always tower over you. he makes sure you’re cum is on his fingers and his tongue alone before he shoves his meaty dick inside you; this man has the libido and stamina of a god.

“g’nna fuck this p’ssy so good, love. fill ya’ up to the brim,” he moans, his thrusts growing more erratic as he feels that familiar heat in his stomach.

you’re coming right along with him, seeing stars while he peppers kisses in your neck. “such a good girl f’r me, g’nna make the best mama.”

—————

um sorry didn’t mean to let out my inner whore

[lazylittledragon]

y'know i'm sick of trying to be polite and civil to people who won't give me the basic respect i deserve as a human being so let it be known that i hope all terfs die in horrible painful accidents as soon as possible

[screambirdscreaming]

I used to like saying "gender is a social construct," but I stopped saying that because people didn't tend to react well - they thought that I was saying gender wasn't real, or didn't matter, or could be safely ignored without consequences. Which has always baffled me a bit as an interpretation, honestly, because many things are social constructs - like money, school, and the police - and they certainly have profound effects on your life whether or not you believe in them. And they sure don't go away if you ignore them.

Anyway. What I've taken to saying instead is, "gender is a cultural practice." This gives more of a sense of respect for the significance gender holds to many people. And it also opens the door to another couple layers of analysis.

Gender is cultural. It is not globally or historically homogeneous. It shifts over time, develops differently in different communities, and can be influenced by cross-cultural contact. Like many, many aspects of culture, the current status of gender is dramatically influenced by colonialism. Colonial gender norms are shaped by the hierarchical structure of imperialist society, and enforced onto colonized cultures as part of the project of imperial cultural hedgemony.

Gender is practiced. What constitutes a gender includes affects and behaviors, jobs or areas of work, skillsets, clothing, collective and individual practices of gender affiliation and affirmation. Any or all of these things, in any combination, depending on the gender, the culture, and the practitioner.

Gender encompasses shared cultural archetypes. These can include specific figures - gods and goddesses, mythic or fictional characters, etc - or they can be more abstract or general. The Wise Woman, Robin Hood, the Dyke, the Working Man, the Plucky Heroine, the Effete Gay Man, etc etc. The range of archetypes does not circumscribe a given gender, that is, they're not all there is to gender. But they provide frameworks and reference points by which people relate to gender. They may be guides for ways to inhabit or practice a gender. They may be stereotypes through which the gendered behavior of others is viewed.

Gender as a framework can be changed. Because it is created collectively, by shared acknowledgement and enforcement by members of society. Various movements have made significant shifts in how gender is structured at various times and places. The impact of these shifts has been widely variable - for example, depending on what city I'm in, even within my (fairly culturally homogeneous) home country, the way I am gendered and reacted to changes dramatically. Looping back to point one, we often speak of gender in very broad terms that obscure significant variability which exists on many scales.

Gender is structured recursively. This can be seen in the archetypes mentioned above, which range from extremely general (say, the Mother) to highly specific (the PTA Soccer Mom). Even people who claim to acknowledge only two genders will have many concepts of gendered-ways-of-being within each of them, which they may view and react to VERY differently.

Gender is experienced as an external cultural force. It cannot be opted out of, any more than living in a society can be opted out of. Regardless of the internal experience of gender, the external experience is also present. Operating within the shared cultural understanding of gender, one can aim to express a certain practice of gender - to make legible to other people how it is you interface with gender. This is always somewhat of a two-way process of communication. Other people may or may not perceive what you're going for - and they may or may not respect it. They may try to bring your expressed gender into alignment with a gender they know, or they might parcel you off into your own little box.

Gender is normative. Within the structure of the "cultural mainstream," there are allowable ways to practice gender. Any gendered behavior is considered relative to these standards. What behavior is allowed, rewarded, punished, or shunned is determined relative to what is gender normative for your perceived gender. Failure to have a clearly perceivable gender is also, generally, punished. So is having a perceivable gender which is in itself not normative.

Gender is taught by a combination of narratives, punishments, and encouragements. This teaching process is directed most strongly towards children but continues throughout adulthood. Practice of normatively-gendered behaviors and alignment with 'appropriate' archetypes is affirmed, encouraged, and rewarded. Likewise 'other'- gendered behavior and affinity to archetypes is scolded, punished, or shunned. This teaching process is inherently coercive, as social acceptance/rejection is a powerful force. However it can't be likened to programming, everyone experiences and reacts to it differently. Also, this process teaches the cultural roles and practices of both (normative) genders, even as it attempts to force conformity to only one.

Gender regulates access to certain levers of social power. This one is complicated by the fact that access to levers of social power is also affected by *many* other things, most notably race, class, and citizenship. I am not going to attempt to describe this in any general terms, I'm not equipped for that. I'll give a few examples to explain what I'm talking about though. (1) In a social situation, a man is able to imply authority, which is implicitly backed by his ability to intimidate by yelling, looming, or threatening physical violence. How much authority he is perceived to have in response to this display is a function of his race and class. It is also modified by how strongly he appears to conform to a masculine ideal. Whether or not he will receive social backlash for this behavior (as a separate consideration to how effective it will be) is again a function of race/class/other forms of social standing. (2) In a social situation, a woman is able to invoke moral judgment, and attempt to modify the behavior of others by shame. The strength of her perceived moral authority depends not just on her conformity to ideal womanhood, but especially on if she can invoke certain archetypes - such as an Innocent, a Mother, or better yet a Grandmother. Whether her moral authority is considered a relevant consideration to influence the behavior of others (vs whether she will be belittled or ignored) strongly depends on her relative social standing to those she is addressing, on basis of gender/race/class/other.

[Again, these examples are *not* meant to be exhaustive, nor to pass judgment on employing any social power in any situation. Only to illustrate what "gendered access to social power" might mean. And to illustrate that types of power are not uniform and may play out according to complex factors.]

Gender is not based in physical traits, but physical traits are ascribed gendered value. Earlier, I described gender as practiced, citing almost entirely things a person can do or change. And I firmly believe this is the core of gender as it exists culturally - and not just aspirationally. After the moment when a gender is "assigned" based on infant physical characteristics, they are raised into that gender regardless of the physical traits they go on to develop (in most circumstances, and unless/until they denounce that gender.) The range of physical traits like height, facial shape, body hair, ability to put on muscle mass - is distributed so that there is complete overlap between the range of possible traits for people assigned male and people assigned female. Much is made of slight trends in things that are "more common" for one binary sex or the other, but it's statistically quite minor once you get over selection bias. However, these traits are ascribed gendered connotations, often extremely strongly so. As such, the experience of presented and perceived gender is strongly effected by physical traits. The practice of gender therefore naturally expands to include modification of physical traits. Meanwhile, the social movements to change how gender is constructed can include pushing to decrease or change the gendered association of physical traits - although this does not seem to consistently be a priority.

Gender roles are related to the hypothetical ability to bear children, but more obliquely than is often claimed. It is popular to say that the types of work considered feminine derive from things it is possible to do while pregnant or tending small children. However, research on the broader span of human history does not hold this up. It may be true of the cultures that gave immediate rise to the colonial gender roles we are familiar with - secondary to the fact that childcare was designated as women's work. (Which it does not have to be, even a nursing infant doesn't need to be with the person who feeds it 24 hours a day.) More directly, gender roles have been influenced by structures of social control aiming for reproductive control. In the direct precursors of colonial society, attempts to track paternal lineage led to extreme degrees of social control over women, which we still see reflected in normative gender today. Many struggles for women's liberation have attempted to push back these forms of social control. It is my firm opinion that any attempt to re-emphasize childbearing as a touchstone of womanhood is frankly sick. We are at a time where solidarity in struggle for gender liberation, and for reproductive rights, is crucial. We need to cast off shackles of control in both fights. Trying to tie childbearing back to womanhood hobbles both fights and demeans us all.

Gender is baked deeply enough into our culture that it is unlikely to ever go away. Many people feel strongly about the practice of gender, in one way or another, and would not want it to. However we have the power to change how gender is structured and enforced. We can push open the doors of what is allowable, and reduce the pain of social punishment and isolation. We can dismantle another of the tools of colonial hedgemony and social control. We can change the culture!

[kath-artic]

if that guy and his girlfriend ever break up i will become the worst person alive

[monstermp3]

♡

[spohkh]

learning how to confront awkward/uncomfortable situations and have a productive conversation about it is the single most valuable skill ive developed as an adult, especially now that more and more i need to advocate for myself wrt protecting my health

[whoarethegirls]

more importantly you guys are jokes for letting collide with the sky die like that. to BLACK PARADE???

[yuquinzel]

atsumu who goes above and beyond to impress you, his crush and classmate of four years, in all definitions of “impress.”

honestly how the fuck isn't it obvious to you by now, he might as well be walking around with “i like y/n” tattooed on his forehead.

you mention you like guys that can cook once and holy fuck atsumu who still doesn't know how to use the microwave without quite literally burning the food, who's never chopped onions before without ending up with enough cuts to bandage his whole hand— that atsumu practices for weeks and stays up till 2 am to prepare for the lunch he'll make for himself, because osamu said said no and then because you bring homemade lunch to stay and eat in class with your friends— he'll casually just plop down on the seat next to you, his friends will then very obviously willingly talk loudly about his lunch and he'll just throw in a, “yeah, made it maself, 'm a solid chef, who do ya think taught 'samu?”

okay if that didn't get your attention, no worries, what are his friends there for?

if atsumu gets lucky in a day and catches you chatting away with your friends in the hallway, then he instructs his friends to walk past you, hover in the corner, just within your earshot— “'kay, so when we pass her by, ya gotta speak ma name real loud, loud enough so she can hear it, but don't annoy her”

and so for the time you stand there, trying to hold a conversation with your friends, all your mind can really focus on is the, “atsumu was so fucking good in practice today, if we're gonna win, then it'll be all him”

and then you hear the subject of the conversation speak, “nah, we're a team, every time we win, it's all thanks ta you guys,” because you also mentioned you like modest, humble guys.

god forbid the days you're absent in class.

atsumu who's sulking all day, doesn't know what the fuck is going on in classes, he's half in and half not in every conversation, even his passes are sloppy and weak. to the point osamu and suna are concerned, well, in their own ways, “are ya constipated or something, yer missin’ your spikes and yer passes as clumsy,” osamu says off-handedly.

“i heard y/n didn't come today, i think her friends said she's sick.” suna chips in, and atsumu shrinks in his spot like a grumpy cat.

“i already know that, wouldn't have come today if i knew she wasn't comin’.”

“you'd miss practice then.”

“don't care, don't talk to me, don't wanna do anything, what's the point.”

“down fucking bad,” suna muses, and atsumu glares at him.

atsumu's day is ruined and his disappointment is immeasurable. why did you get sick? how could you get sick? now he's worried and half of himself and his passes are shit and god, he wants to see you. he feels like he could die.

then when you finally show up the next day after what felt like eternity to atsumu, you find on your desk a pile of snacks with a little note— banana milk, everyone knows it's your favourite, the bar of chocolate they only sell down the convenience store near the school, the glazed donuts that you're always eating in class, and a lot of bubblegums that only one person in class knows you like— atsumu's handwriting is rushed and barely comprehensive but you know it by heart because he doesn't know you saw him slip the note you found in your locker this morning, and countless other mornings—

“i hope you smile because of this”

atsumu as a secret admirer is... not so secret because he's still unaware that you see him every morning, and let him giggle to himself as he slips the notes and the strips of bubblegums in your locker— you don't even like that flavor.

but he gave them, so you think they might just be your favourite.

then again, maybe atsumu doesn't want to be a secret admirer.

atsumu has a crush on you and you know that— he's very obvious. but he's also very dense and doesn't realise that everyone besides him can see you like him too. he doesn't know the only reason you bring homemade lunch is because he had started to eat lunch in class with his friends. you stand in the hallways with your friends pretending to talk so that when atsumu's walking past you, his friends will practically yell his name and you'll see him blushing shyly. he still doesn't know you come to his every match, cheering for him and scream with joy at every one of his scores.

atsumu makes it obvious he has a crush on you but is stupidly dense that you reciprocate all the same :'))))

© yuquinzel 2024 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

POSTING BECAUSE WHY TF NOT HUH HUHHHHHHHHH

@kyoghurts hi bbg

[tetsvya]

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."

[moldycigarette]

warnings: 🪦🕊️ DNE, angst, implied assault towards reader, use of y/n, afab, protective simon, talk of torture, talk of blood, fluff at the end, i’m sincerely sorry

—————

being married to simon has both perks and downsides. don’t get me wrong, simon is the exact opposite of “ghost” when he’s not at work and makes sure it stays that way, especially around you. he’s nurturing, funny, kind, loving, loyal, and puts you before himself even when you tell him not to.

sure, he can be a stubborn bastard sometimes but he knows how to make it up to you.

in the beginning of your relationship, it was difficult for him to open up, and understandably so given his past. he was cold and distant, sometimes to the point where you questioned if he even wanted to be with you. however, he made up for it. he became more relaxed with you, starting to accept more than just the occasional kiss on the cheek. he was hopelessly devoted to you and proved that to you every day, even if he wasn’t home. whether it was sending you cute texts or small gifts, you knew it was going to be okay as long as you had him.

so, as a loving wife expecting her husband to come home after months in dangerous situations, you expect simon to come home and greet you like he always does; soft kisses and tenderness that can only be shared between the two of you.

when you hear a knock on the door, you immediately jump up, ready to finally feel simon’s embrace. but, when you open the door, your stomach drops.

a large man in a hoodie and black balaclava, one you knew wasn’t simon’s, stands in front of you holding a gun to the center of your forehead. you freeze, not knowing whether to defend yourself or run.

“do as i say and put the bag over your head.” he grumbles. you comply, not wanting to make the situation worse.

everything goes dark after feeling a sharp knock to your head.

—————

you’re eyes slowly open, scanning the room with fear. you try to stand, only to find your arms and ankles tied to a metal chair.

the room is plain, only filled with you, a small overhead light, security cameras in each corner, and a bolted door directly across from you.

your head is aching, bruises surely littering across your face. where the hell are you? one moment, you’re waiting for your husband to come home and the next you wake up in a cold, dark room.

what time is it? has simon come home yet, only to find glass smashed and the door broken down with you nowhere in sight?

suddenly, the door opens with a loud creak echoing across the room. a man steps forward, his hands in his pockets with a gun sitting along his hip.

is this it? is this how you’re going to die?

“y/n riley.”

no. no no no, how does he know your name? what does he-

“you’re quite a pretty thing, ain’t ya’? ‘s a shame you married a bum like ghost,” he whispers, hand brushing your cheek.

you flinch away, glaring up at him with both anger and fear. “what do you want?” you ask.

the man chuckles, his monstrous laugh spreading like wildfire. “i want to know where the files are.”

what? what files?

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat.

“wow, for a girl so beautiful you sure have a bratty attitude. that’s gonna have to change.”

he brings his hand back, slapping you hard across your face while tears threaten to fall.

“i’m not telling you shit!”

a hand grasps around your throat, squeezing like a lemon on a hot summer day. you reach to claw his hands away but are met with rug burns on your wrists.

“if you keep this up, we’ll do a lot more than slap you” he says. when he finally let’s go of your throat after what feels like hours, you gasp and cough.

he begins to walk away, making some kind of signal to the guards surrounding the door. suddenly, a table of medical tool sits next to you.

fuck.

“no, no no no please i-” another slap stings your face before you can finish your sentence, the burning sensation spreading across your cheek.

a man picks up a scalpel in his gloved hand, holding your hand down with the other. “either tell us where the files are, or you’ll be cut into tiny pieces. your choice, doll,” a sinister smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you.

“please, i’m begging you! i don’t know what yo-” the scalpel swipes across your wrist in one swift motion, causing blood to seep onto the concrete floor. you scream, pain spreading to your chest as you feel a heavy weight on your throat.

the other guard wraps a metal wire around your neck, cutting into the soft flesh just enough to torture, but not kill.

you can’t breathe, sharp blades cutting along your body. punches land to your face, stinging sensations surrounding you until all you see is black.

—————

it’s been at least two days. you’ve become numb from the pain, burns littering your tired body from boiling water and a black eye that causes you unable to see.

where is simon?

he’ll come soon, right? he has to, there’s no way he could live without you in his life… right?

your mind flashes back to your wedding day, happy tears pouring from both of your faces while listening to the others vows. he promised to take care of you and protect you, no matter the cost.

so where is he?

your broken ribs ache with a growling stomach. you couldn’t deal with this anymore, when will it stop?

when will the men forcing themselves onto you and the burning stop? when will simon find you?

your head hangs low before shooting up from the sounds of gunshots. no, no no. they’re going to kill you.

the door slams open as you sob, salty tears stinging along your battered body.

“oh god, sweetheart.”

a familiar low voice rings across the room, bringing attention to your ears and causing you to shoot your head up. your sobs increase as you watch your husband run towards you before cradling your face in his hands.

“i’m sorry love, i’m so sorry,” he whispered.

gunshots continued ringing in the halls, screams filling your head. simon begins untying the ropes while speaking in quick bursts. you see tears flood his eyes as he looks at your body, naked, bruised, and scarred.

you jump into his arms, ignoring the pain you feel. you finally had simon, and that’s all you wanted.

you could care less about the snot and tears spreading across his tactical vest, he can always find another one.

“ghost! halls’ clear, helicopter landing in 5!” you hear a scottish voice speak over his radio.

everyone is here. everyone you care about is here to save you.

simon takes off his vest and shirt before putting it around you to cover you up, a spare pair of pants in the small bag behind him. he picks you up, hands under your knees and along your back. “‘s okay, sweetheart, i got ya’,” he whispers.

you grab tightly around his neck, fearing this is all a dream and he’ll fade away in a single moment. he runs towards an entrance as you hear a chopper sink onto a landing strip. blinding light burns your eyes from not seeing anything but unsettling darkness for god knows how long.

all you can cry is your husbands name before your head gets fuzzy and everything fades away.

—————

ok so i won’t lie i cried multiple times while writing this. it’s based off of a true story that happened to me when i was sold into a trafficking ring for three years and i thought channeling it into writing could be beneficial.

if you’re struggling in any way, just know that you matter and i’m always here for you. my messages and inbox are always open.

☻ kenai

[notthestarwar]

I'm absolutely gonna be late now lol cause I wrote all that (and spent a long time just sitting there thinking about it (whoops)) before doing any of the stuff I need to do before I go get tortured for an hour (completely mundane prescheduled appointment with someone)

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)

You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.

But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.

(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"

From the 404 article:

A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”

So please, go click that opt-out button.

(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"

Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”

It should make a difference! Go click that button.

(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"

This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:

This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.

And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:

zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.

So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)

Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)

(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"

I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.

Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:

The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.

So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*

But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:

The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.

On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:

For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.

Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.

If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.

Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.

I hope this helps!

[servicpop]

you've got a fetish for my love gym rat satoru & suguru x bottom male reader

"That's wraps, let's go take a shower Suguru I'm sweaty as hell."

The weights nestled on the bar slinked off as Suguru placed them back on the rack. A few tiring hours of bench presses, deadlifts, and other workouts were done on repeat until the men eventually felt that ache in their muscles that told them to stop.

"Right, I think we're done for today," Suguru hummed, gripping his water bottle and taking a quick chug of water before chucking it into his gym bag, zipping it up and walking to the showers before Satoru could even get himself packed up. Suguru was first to enter, pushing the doors to the men's shower rooms aside to place his bag down at the bench.

Steam billowed through one of the open stalls but Suguru brushed it off, it was an ungodly hour to be at the gym currently. One downside about these gym stalls were that the doors were practically non-existant, replaced by a raggedy plastic curtain that swayed with every slight movement. Guess the gym splurged all their money on the equipment and fancy parts of the interior rather than the bathrooms.

Suguru's eyes flickered down to the unaccompanied bag at the corner of the bench. It was yours, he recognised it from the key chain you placed on the zips to identify your bag.

"Suguru why didn't you wait—" Satoru burst into the shower rooms, complaints already stringing out of his lips, "Look, Satoru," Suguru pointed out, pointing at your bag and to the stall that had steam coming out of it.

"Oh, well he can fit two right?" Satoru chuckled, his chest rising and falling from the laugh, "Well he has done it before." That earned a nudge to the head by Suguru — who clearly didn't appreciate the sexual innuendo. "Well, if you don't wanna join me, I'll be going first," Satoru shrugged, peeling off his black shirt that clung to his body from all the sweat, and his pants, tossing it aside before he brutally ripped the shower curtain aside.

You had just finished some light cardio, something to get your body energised and your dopamine levels running. You chose an early morning to go to the gym, wanting to avoid stripping naked infront of other buff and sweaty men and the sheer awkwardness of squeezing past boisterous conversations as you try to find yourself an empty stall.

You thought you were safe, but when are you really when Satoru Gojo is pursuing you? The shower curtain ripping open pulled a yelp from deep inside your heart, goosebumps covering your skin. When the familiar tuffs of white hair came into your view, there was only one person who would intrude on your space like this.

"Cmon 'Toru, you're gonna give this poor man a heart attack one day," Suguru sighed, appearing beside Satoru. Now both of the men were crowding your space, the water still cascading down your back. They were both glistening with sweat, the evidence of a hard workout there.

"Hey, why didn't you tell us you were at the gym today?" Satoru feigned a sad puppy-dog pout, his hands finding their way to where your waist met your hips. He squeezed the soft flesh there, humming contently; it was something he loved about you, your body was just right.

"Thought you guys were busy," You mumbled, your eyes tracing Suguru's calm movements as he slipped past Satoru and placed himself behind you, chest against your back. "Doesn't mean you can't shoot us a message," Suguru cooed, coiling his fingers in your hair as he pressed lightly against your lower back.

"I second that," Satoru chuckled, his fingers traced circles on your belly, "Since you won't workout with us in the gym... you can 'work out' with us in here," He grinned, leaning in to nip a kiss at your nose before his hands met your cock. Your whole body jolted at the sudden touch, and Suguru held your biceps, squeezing you slightly as a reassurance. You could feel Suguru's hands dip down to your ass, kneading the fat there before he spat on his own dick, rubbing it against your puckered hole to smear his make-shift lube.

"Ah, shit you make me so hard," Satoru grumbled, his pearly whites hooked on his baby pink lip, using his spare hand to jerk himself off while slipping his thumb over your tip. "This is kinda lewd, hey?" He groaned — a smirk plastered all over his face — "Both your boyfriends fucking you in the showers of a public gym." Satoru's fingers wrapped around himself and yours, bringing both your dicks together into his hand.

"We both know this is a sick fantasy of yours, 'Toru" Suguru retorted, slowly pushing himself into you with a low groan. His fingers twitched on your back, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he watched yourself stretch to accommodate for his size, "Shit, you really do know how to take us, huh?"

"W–wait," You gasped, your palms flushing against Satoru's chest, you couldn't tell if that was water on him or sweat. Satoru turned a blind ear to your pleas, rolling his hips against yours as he kept his fist clenched, forcing your cocks to grind together. The stimulation from the front and the back was enough to get your knees going limp.

"Don't give out on us yet, prince," Suguru cooed gently into your ear, nudging himself in just a little deeper before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. "Oh fuck," Suguru moaned, his thick fingers clawed at your hips. Like he got the sudden motivation seeing Suguru so drunk on your insides, Satoru sped up his hands, pumping the both of you. You could feel every twitch and vein bulging against your own length, he was close.

"Shitshitshitshit, I think I'm gonna cum," Satoru whined, thrusting up into his hand, chasing that sweet release, ""Gonna make a mess outta you," He sputtered, his hand squelched with every stroke. Suguru stayed quiet, but your ears were more trained to him. Every soft groan or stutter in breath from Suguru didn't go unnoticed, he was practically panting in your ear.

Stretching you out like you were elastic was something Suguru took pride in taking his time to do. He knew he found your sweet spot when your hips jerked, squirming in their shared grasp, "Stay still f'me," He whispered, linking his muscular forearm right underneath your chest.

It was all too much, your eyes flitted up to meet Satoru's blue ones, his white eyelashes covered most of the blue since he was so focused on your body and his mouth was agape, short breaths coming out. His once spiky hair was now down, stuck to his forehead from the mixture of sweat and water. Your brain alternated focus from the two men so quickly you found yourself in a daze trying to keep up.

"Hah, look at you, your face looks so fucked out," Satoru teased, leaning in to catch your tongue hanging from your mouth and pulled you in for a wet kiss. You felt his dick pulse a few times before he moaned into your mouth, shooting out a load onto your stomach while you followed closely after him. It was a mix of both your messes, "It's like making slime," Satoru laughed, carding his fingers through his hair.

"You're ruining the moment, Satoru," Suguru groaned at Satoru's childish behaviours — did this man ever grow up? "My bad, Sugu, want me to help you?" Satoru grinned, pulling your upper body towards him and planting your head onto his shoulder. He let your head rest in the crook of his collarbone before his arms reached down to your ass, spreading you apart for Suguru.

"Thanks," Suguru gruffly murmured. He bent down slight so he could reach even deeper, pistoning his hips against your ass. You cried out onto Satoru's shoulder, the knot growing in your stomach for a second time. "Good job baby, look you're taking Suguru's dick so well," Satoru whistled watching as Suguru's cock get enveloped by your hole.

"He's so tight I think I might snap in half," Suguru groaned, his hair falling off his shoulders and barley reached your back. Suguru hissed when you clenched down a bit more, your warm gummy walls milked his cock. "Take it all baby, you deserve it," He purred, burying himself to the hilt before je orgasmed, painting your insides with his semen.

Suguru's palm loosened on your hips, trailing down to your stomach and rubbed it gently, "Good boy." Satoru laughed, bringing his hands back up to ruffle your hair, "Enough cardio? Alright, let's get you actually cleaned up before you turn into a rasin from all the water."

a / n ; not proof read as always TT also my first time writing a threesome ! I left Satoru and Suguru's relationship open , I know some people are more into that love ... arrow ?

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Where Seungcheol is your bestfriend with benefit, and after you agree to go on a date with a guy, Seungcheol has a jealous crisis. And during the date, you realize that going out with this guy was a mistake. — WC: 5.8K — WARNINGS: Smut, slut/whore shamming, angst, argument, jealousy, "you are mine", unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), flashbacks, penetrative sex, fingering, clit stimulation, chocking, hair pulling, cock/face slap, multiple orgasms, creampie, begging, overwhelming, confession and etc.

You apply the final touch of lipstick, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back looks confident, ready, but you can’t ignore Seungcheol’s presence behind you. He’s perched on your couch, arms crossed, a pout that reminds you of a child denied his favorite candy.

"What's going on, Seungcheol?" you ask.

"This guy is no good," he replies, his voice tinged with frustration.

You mumble, "Yes, yes, you've told me plenty of times."

He leans forward, eyes intense. "Then why are you going on this date?"

You stay quiet, fiddling with the makeup on the desk. He presses on, "How long have you been talking to him?"

You don't answer, the silence thick between you. Suddenly, he stands, crossing the room in a few strides. He turns you around, pushing you gently but firmly against the desk. His breath is warm on your neck.

"Why won't you answer me?" he demands softly.

"Seungcheol, it's... complicated," you murmur, avoiding his gaze.

"Complicated?" he echoes, his grip on your shoulders tightening just a bit. "We used to talk about everything. You've always been open about your flings, but now..." He trails off, searching your eyes for answers.

"But now we're fucking, Seungcheol!"

"And? What's your point?"

"Why do you care now?" you retort, your voice tinged with irritation. "When you were fucking with Mingyu's sister, I didn't say anything!"

Seungcheol's shock is evident, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, "We weren't... we weren't fucking!"

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Seungcheol. You think I'm blind? That girl couldn't keep her hands off you."

"We were just... hanging out," he insists, his tone growing louder.

"Hanging out?" you repeat, incredulous. "That's the best excuse you've got?"

Seungcheol's frustration bubbles over, his voice rising to match yours. "What's wrong with you, huh? Why do you care so much about who I'm with?"

"Why do you care so much about who I'm with?" you shoot back, your own anger rising. "You're the one who started this whole thing, remember?"

"And you accept it!" Seungcheol shouts, his frustration boiling over.

You push past him, heading in the direction of the door, but he grabs your arm, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are filled with anger, his jaw clenched tight.

"I can't believe you," he says through gritted teeth. "After everything I said, after all the warnings... you're just going to go through with it anyway?"

"Let go," you snap, trying to wrench your arm free.

He holds on, his voice low and intense. "If this guy does anything, anything at all, you call me. Understand?"

You meet his gaze, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. Despite the argument, despite the tension, you know he means it.

"I hear you."

With that, he releases your arm and turns away, striding out of the apartment without another word. You watch him go, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest.

You sat across from your date, but your mind was elsewhere. The words exchanged with Seungcheol echoed in your head, drowning out any attempt at conversation. It was like you were just there physically, your mind a million miles away. – a date that meant nothing to you.

He tried to make small talk, but you could barely muster a response. Every smile felt forced, every laugh hollow. You couldn't enjoy the date, not when the weight of the argument with Seungcheol still hung heavy in your mind. 

When your phone buzzes with a message from Seungcheol, you jump, almost knocking over your drink. You quickly glance at the screen, your heart skipping a beat when you see his name.

"Are you home already?" the message reads.

You glanced at the time, realizing that it had been hours since you left the date early, claiming that you needed to go home. With a heavy sigh, you typed out a response: "Yes, I'm home."

After those messages, Seungcheol practically disappeared. Usually, your weekends were marked by his presence—his calls, his texts, him showing up at your front door with that familiar, easy smile. But this weekend, there was nothing. Not a single word from him.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, the silence was deafening. You took a long bath, trying to relax, but the empty space where Seungcheol's presence used to be was impossible to ignore. As you lay on your bed, you felt the temptation to pick up your phone and text him, just to break the silence.

The truth was, now that he wasn't around, everything seemed to remind you of him. The way he laughed, the way he teased you, the comfort of his touch and the warmth of his words. You realized how much you needed him—not just in your routine, but in your life. The thought of reaching out to him tugged at you, but your ego stood in the way.

Was it worth it? Was holding onto your pride worth the growing emptiness you felt without him?

You stared at the ceiling, the questions swirling in your mind. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. You picked up your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen.

You dialed his number, putting the phone to your ear. The line beeped twice before he picked up, his voice coming through fast, "Y/N?"

Hearing his voice, you closed your eyes and sighed. "Cheol..." you murmured, the nickname slipping out naturally.

On the other end, you heard Seungcheol's breath hitch. He knew you only used that nickname when you were feeling particularly vulnerable, and he wondered if you needed him now. But he reminded himself to stay cold, at least for a moment—maybe you did need him. 

"What do you want, Y/N?" he asked, his tone carefully controlled.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding. "Where are you?" you asked, straining to hear the sounds of street movement in the background. He was definitely driving.

"I'm out," he replied curtly. "Why?"

"Out where?" you pressed, needing to know more.

He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. "Just driving around. Needed to clear my head."

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to say what you needed to say. "Can you come over? I... I need to see you."

Another pause, longer this time. "Why, Y/N? Why now?"

"Because I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And because I can't stop thinking about you."

There was silence on the line, and for a moment, you feared he might hang up. But then you heard him exhale sharply. "I'll be there in ten."

The line went dead, and you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as your heart raced.

When Seungcheol knocked on your door, you practically flew to open it. The scent of his cologne, the one you loved so much, filled the air as soon as you pulled the door open. He stood there in a leather jacket, black jeans, and that shirt you always told him looked amazing on him.

You wasted no time pulling him inside, closing the door behind him, and wrapping your arms tightly around him. You jumped up a bit so he could hold your legs, and he caught you effortlessly, pulling you close.

As he hugged you, his warmth enveloped you, and you melted into his embrace. His hands caressed your moisturized skin, sending shivers down your spine as he admired the contrast of your delicate babydoll against his rugged street clothing.

For a moment, everything else faded away—the arguments, the doubts, the uncertainty.

"Cheol..." you murmur against his neck, your voice barely above a whisper. He hums in response, his breath warm against your skin. You can't bring yourself to look into his eyes, feeling a vulnerability swirling inside you.

Suddenly, he gently grabs your hair, tilting your head up so that you're forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are intense, searching, emotions you can't quite decipher. But in that moment, you feel like he's seeing right through you, seeing all the things you're too afraid to say out loud.

Without another word, you lean in and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing embrace. His fingers press into the small of your back, pulling you closer, as he furrows his eyebrows, savoring the taste of your kiss like it's the first time all over again.

His tongue slips into your mouth, a silent plea for more, and you gladly oblige, deepening the kiss with every passing moment. Lost in each other, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he guides you towards the bedroom.

Seungcheol makes you sit on the edge of the bed, his hands deftly working to remove his leather jacket. You watch him, the strings of your babydoll falling from your shoulders as the fabric slides down, teasingly revealing hints of your curves.

Your lips are still stained red from the kiss, and your hair is slightly tousled from his grasp, but you can't tear your eyes away from him. There's a hunger in your gaze, a longing that mirrors his own, and he can't help but feel overwhelmed by it all.

As he stands before you, shirtless, he can't help but ask the question that's been burning in his mind since the moment he laid eyes on you. "Why do you do this to me?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can't stay away from you."

You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brush against his chest. "Then don't," you whisper, your voice filled with a desperate plea. "Stay with me."

His eyes darken with desire as he pushes you back onto the bed, a hunger burning in his gaze. His hands move with purpose, swiftly removing your babydoll, and he scoffs softly when he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath.

As his hand slides down between your thighs, finding you already wet and ready for him, you can't help but tremble under his touch. His fingers move roughly against your sensitive folds, teasing and taunting you.

But instead of giving you what you crave, he teases you, his touch tantalizingly slow as he savors every moment.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice pleading for more.

But he only smirks, his lips trailing kisses down your body as he continues to tease you, building the anticipation until you're practically begging.

"What? That guy couldn't handle you?" Seungcheol asks with a devilish grin, his voice laced with amusement.

"Fuck, don't ask about this right now," you plead, trying to focus on the sensations he's stirring within you.

But he tilts his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why not?" he asks innocently, his fingers entering your pussy with a deliberate slowness that makes you arch your back in pleasure.

"Because we didn't... we didn't fuck," you manage to stammer out, your breath catching as his fingers find just the right spot inside you.

Seungcheol hums in satisfaction, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he continues to work you with his skilled fingers. "Did you kiss him then?" he murmurs against your skin.

You moan softly, the sensation overwhelming as his fingers brush against your g'spot. "N-no," you gasp out, your mind consumed with the pleasure he's giving you. "Oh my god, Seungcheol, please..."

The filthy sounds emanating from your pussy made you blush furiously, but Seungcheol only smirked, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "Why didn't you kiss him?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement, relishing in your struggle to answer as his fingers worked faster, driving you closer to the edge.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to form a coherent response amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I-I don't know," you managed to gasp out, your breath hitching as his touch pushed you closer to the brink.

Seungcheol's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he continued to tease you relentlessly. "You don't know?" he repeated, his fingers working you with an expert precision that had you writhing beneath him.

You could barely think, let alone form a coherent response.

As Seungcheol's fingers entered and left you with lightning speed, you couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the blur of his forearm, moving so quickly it was almost a blur. Your back arched involuntarily as you let out a string of breathless "ah ah ah's," each one punctuated by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

Seungcheol knew exactly what he was doing, his movements calculated to drive you wild with ecstasy. 

Seungcheol knew you were close, could feel the tension building in your body with every movement of his hand. But just as you were on the brink of release, he stopped abruptly, leaving you panting and trembling with need.

"S-Seungcheol! No…"

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with frustration and desire, as he casually opened his jeans, a devilish grin playing on his lips. "You're trembling," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he watched your reaction.

Seungcheol takes his hard cock, slick with his own arousal, and grabs you by your hair roughly, pulling you close to him.

"You want this cock, don't you?" he growls, his breath hot against your skin. "You want my cock, you filthy little slut?"

You nod eagerly, your mouth hanging open in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to take him in.

"That's it," he murmurs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice as he slaps his cock against your face, the sound echoing in the room. "You're such a fucking whore, begging for it like this."

You whimper at his words, the intensity of his desire fueling your own. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each slap of his cock against your face, and the way he bites his lip, the need for him consuming you completely.

"Tell me you want it," he demands, his grip on your hair tightening. "Tell me you want my cock inside you."

"I want it," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want your cock, Seungcheol. Please, give it to me."

With a satisfied smirk, he positions himself at your mouth, ready to give you exactly what you've been begging for. And as he thrusts forward, filling your mouth with his hard length, you can't help but moan in ecstasy, knowing that this is exactly where you belong.

Seungcheol's mouth falls agape, his face contorted in pleasure as you take him in so eagerly. He watches in awe as you moan around him, your hands sliding over his abs, making his skin shiver in your hands.

His frown quickly turns into a smirk of satisfaction, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the warmth of your mouth enveloping him completely. He can't help but marvel at how good you feel, how perfectly you fit him, as he rocks his hips gently.

You continue to moan around him, your hands exploring every inch of his body, fueling his desire even more. 

"This mouth..." Seungcheol's voice is low and possessive as he tugs at your hair, his grip firm but not unkind. "This mouth is mine. Mine to kiss, mine to fuck."

With that declaration, he guides himself into your throat, the sudden invasion making your nose hit his pelvis. He holds you there for a moment, relishing the sensation of being engulfed by your warmth, before you instinctively gulp around him.

For a moment, he holds you there, the sensation of your throat tightening around him making him hiss in pleasure. You gulp around him, his grip tightens as he savors the moment.

"You're so fucking good at that,"

Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he pulls you off, a trail of saliva connecting you to him as he looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes. The sight of you—lips swollen, eyes glazed with lust—only fuels his desire further. He knows he's claimed you, body and soul, and there's nothing in the world that could feel more right.

Seungcheol's hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but not too tight, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp for air. He pushes you further up the bed, his eyes locked onto yours with rage. His fingers around your neck feel like a beautiful, sinful necklace, a reminder of the control he holds over you in this moment.

"You have no idea how fucking mad you made me," he growls, his voice low and rough with emotion. "You drive me insane, Y/N. Always pushing my buttons, always making me want you more than anything."

As he confesses his frustration, you feel the head of his huge cock pressing against your entrance, stretching you slowly, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, and tears slip down the sides of your face, mingling with the intense pleasure and the sweet pain of his grip on your throat.

"I can't stand it when you're with someone else," he continues, his thrusts slow and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him. "You belong to me. This body, this mouth, this pussy—all mine."

You gasp, the pressure of his cock stretching you almost too much to bear, but the feeling is intoxicating. "Seungcheol," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure.

He tightens his grip on your throat just a bit more, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his dominance. "Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel how perfectly you fit around me? You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

He opens your legs wider, thrusting roughly inside you, the force of his movements making you scream. Your hands reach out, one gripping his arm while the other clutches the sheets with white-knuckled intensity. The pleasure and pain blend together, making it almost impossible to form coherent thoughts.

"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice a low growl. You stay quiet, the words caught in your throat, as if you couldn't hear him over the pounding of your heart and the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

"Say it," he insists, his tone more forceful now. When you still don't respond, he suddenly stops, his cock buried deep inside you, his balls pressed tight against your cunt. The sudden stillness makes you sob with the force of the pressure, feeling him pressing against your g'spot, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, a testament to the power he holds over you.

Seungcheol glances down at you, his gaze hard and unwavering. He grabs your jaw, holding it firmly as he shakes your head slightly. "Say it," he repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

Between the overwhelming pleasure and the sharp edge of suffering, you manage to give him a sly smile, defiance flickering in your eyes. He narrows his gaze, recognizing the challenge in your expression.

Without warning, he delivers a sharp slap to your face, the sting of it sending a shock through your system. "Say it," he demands again, anger and desperation, his control slipping.

The slap jolts you back to reality, the raw intensity of the moment piercing through the haze. "I'm yours," you finally manage to gasp, your voice cracking.. "All yours, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol contains a smile, the satisfaction in his eyes unmistakable. He gives you another two light slaps on your face, the stinging sensation making your skin tingle. Then, with a show of his strength, he effortlessly flips you over, treating you like a doll, positioning you exactly how he wants.

Your chest presses against the mattress, your face buried in the sheets as you feel his hands gripping the meat of your ass, spreading you open for him. The vulnerability make your heart race, every nerve in your body on high alert.

Seungcheol's fingers dig into your flesh, holding you firmly as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. Once he's fully inside, he pauses, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice a rough whisper of desire. "You feel so fucking good."

You can barely respond, your mind lost in the sensation of him filling you completely. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending ripples of pleasure through your body.

"You're mine," he growls, his pace quickening, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. "Say it again."

"I'm yours," you moan, your voice muffled by the mattress. "Seungcheol."

He lets out a satisfied grunt, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The intensity of his movements drives you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the force of his thrusts.

Seungcheol's hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair and pulling your head back slightly. "Don't forget it," he hisses, his breath hot against your ear. "You're mine, and I'll never let you go."

You moan undone, your breathless praise slipping from your lips—"That is so good, so good"—but before you can finish your sentence, you're cut off by a sharp thrust that makes you scream. 

Seungcheol coos,"I doubt anyone can find it like I do." 

He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your head back so you're forced to arch your back, your screams echoing in the room as he hits just the right spot again and again. 

You can feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost overwhelming. "S-Seungcheol," you gasp out, your voice a desperate plea for more.

But he just smirks, his movements becoming even more precise, more calculated. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and he's reveling in every moment of it.

Seungcheol is fucking you so hard that tears stream down your face, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. You're almost afraid to lose yourself completely, to let go of all control.  Just when you think it can't get any more intense, his hands find your clit, and you can't help but squirm under his touch.

You whimper as he pulls you up against his chest, his fingers flicking your clit rapidly as he watches your reaction with dark, hungry eyes.

To make matters worse—or better, depending on how you look at it—his hand on your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your already overloaded senses. You squirm and writhe beneath him, the stimulation almost too much to bear.

Your eyes roll back in your head, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to hold on to your sanity. "Breath," he demands, his voice a rough growl in your ear.

You try to comply, but the overwhelming pleasure makes it difficult to focus on anything else. "I-I can't," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much."

Seungcheol notices the sudden change in your demeanor, the absence of your usual moans and the way you've gone completely still, holding your breath as if frozen in time. Concern flashes across his face, his movements slowing as he registers the subtle signs of your impending climax.

"Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern, his fingers stilling against your clit. 

But you're lost, cumming, –almost chopping his dick off with your tight cunt– your body trembling with the force of your release, unable to respond to his touch or his words. You feel like you're floating, weightless and breathless, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

With a gentle touch, he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have gathered in the corners of your eyes. 

You try to respond, to reassure him that you're fine, that you're just overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure he's giving you. But all that comes out is a strangled whimper, your body still convulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Seungcheol's worry deepens, and he pulls you closer against his chest, holding you tightly as he strokes your hair soothingly. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Just breathe, baby. I've got you."

A strangled moan escapes your lips as your body softens against Seungcheol's, the intensity of your release leaving you jelly-like in his arms. Concern still lingering in his eyes, he asks softly, "Did you cum?"

You manage a breathless "Yes," a dizzy smile spreading across your lips as you gaze up at him.n "Are you going to fill me up this time?" 

Seungcheol's cock twitches at your words, the desire in his eyes almost palpable as he stutters out a response. "I-I... Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky with need.

You swirl your hips against him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you feel him grow even harder beneath you. His sharp intake of breath is all the answer you need, a silent confirmation of his desire.

"Please," you whisper, your voice barely a breath as you press your body against his, your hands trailing down his neck to grip his hips.

You always asked Seungcheol to fill you up, but he always denied. But now, as he presses you against the bed once again, you lie sideways, feeling his cock slide deep inside you. Your pussy is even tighter around him this time, the sensation almost overwhelming.

You glance up at him, doing that little face you know he loves—biting your lip, furrowing your eyebrows just so. His face contorts in pleasure and frustration when he sees you like this, and he lets out a string of curses.

"Fuck you, Y/N," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck you, why are you like this? Shit."

You can't help but smile, biting your lip as you watch the emotions play across his face. It's a game you both love to play.

Deep down, you knew that you messed with him, and deep down, he knew it too. It was a dynamic between you two that you couldn't deny. You loved to tease him, to push his buttons and see how far you could go, because it ignited something primal in both of you.

You loved the way he reacted to your teasing, the way his control slipped just a little more with each provocative glance or suggestive comment. And he, in turn, reveled in the challenge you presented, the way you pushed him to his limits and beyond.

In your mind, a film passed by, a vivid flashback to a night when you both decided to let your touches get wilder.

Seungcheol's hand gripped your tit, his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn't help but grind your clothed pussy against his clothed cock, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

Suddenly, Seungcheol stopped, his grip tightening on your hips as he looked at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "No, no we—" he started to say, but you continued moving your hips, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Seungcheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as you begged him to continue. He was reluctant, hesitant, but you could feel the tension building between you, the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

His hips mirrored your thrusts, a silent admission of the desire burning within him. 

He took all of your clothing, stripping you bare as he worshipped your body with his mouth. The sensation of his lips and tongue on your pussy was too much, bringing tears to your eyes as he gave his everything to please you.

You arched your back against his couch, your toes curling with pleasure as you moaned his name over and over again. Seungcheol's gaze never left yours, his eyes dark with desire as he savored every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

"Seungcheol, d-don't stop! Please, please!" your voice echoed in his mind, focusing on making you cum on his tongue, making you mark him with your essence. 

–

"Y/N, you slut," Seungcheol pants, his voice heavy with desire and frustration. He thrusts into you, his body trembling with the effort, his expression a mixture of pleasure and suffering. His mouth hangs open, his hair clinging to his face with sweat as he continues to drive into you relentlessly.

"You only make me suffer," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "But fuck, I can't help but want you. Every time I'm with you, I–"

You cut off his confession, your breath hitching as you feel another wave of pleasure building inside you. "I'm... I'm cumming again," you gasp out, the sudden declaration sending you hurtling towards the edge with newfound intensity.

Seungcheol's eyes widen with surprise at your abrupt interruption, but he doesn't miss a beat. He grips your hips tighter, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he drives you towards the brink of ecstasy once again.

You glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, trying to keep them open despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. His moans mingle with yours, the sound filling the room as you both surrender to the ecstasy of the moment.

And then, with a shuddering cry, you feel yourself tumbling over the edge once again, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Seungcheol's movements become more erratic, more desperate, as he reaches his own peak, painting your insides with his hot cum.

His body almost collapses on top of yours, but he sustains himself with one arm, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rides out the last throes of his climax. You clench and unclench around him, milking him for every drop of cum as you let out a relieved moan, the hot cum filling you like a reward.

As Seungcheol quietly gets up and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you. It's unlike him to leave so abruptly after sex, especially when he usually prefers to linger, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

You wait for a moment, hoping that he'll return soon, but when he doesn't, your concern grows. Something doesn't feel right, and you can't shake the feeling that there's more to his sudden departure than meets the eye.

With a sense of trepidation, you push yourself up from the bed and make your way to the bathroom, your footsteps echoing in the quiet of the room. You hesitate for a moment outside the door, unsure of what you'll find on the other side.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you push open the door and step inside. The bathroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the soft glow of the overhead light.

You find Seungcheol standing in front of the sink, his back turned to you as he splashes water on his face. His shoulders are tense, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he's trying to wash away the weight of the world.

"Seungcheol?" you call out softly, your voice breaking the silence of the room.

He startles at the sound of your voice, his movements faltering for a moment before he turns to face you. His eyes are shadowed, his expression unreadable as he meets your gaze.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concern lacing your words as you step closer to him.

He hesitates for a moment, as if debating whether or not to confide in you, before finally nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

But you can tell by the tension in his body, by the haunted look in his eyes, that he's anything but fine.

"I'm sorry for being a slut who makes you suffer," you say softly, your words heavy with remorse as you acknowledge the pain you've caused him. Deep down, you know that his hurt stems from your actions, from the tumultuous dynamic between you that often leaves both of you reeling.

But before you can dwell on your apology, Seungcheol rushes to reassure you, his words coming out in a hurried rush. "No, no, you're not," he insists, his voice firm as he looks at you with a mixture of concern and affection.

You exhale softly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders at his words. But before you can say anything else, the confession spills out of you, unstoppable now that you've opened the floodgates.

"I blocked him," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Hm?" Seungcheol's head tilt, confused.

"The guy from the date. Actually, I couldn't think about anything else but you, Seungcheol. That date... I wasn't even paying attention to that guy. I just wanted you. I'd rather have stayed with you that day, but I left, and I hurt you–"

But before you can finish your confession, Seungcheol cuts you off by pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "It's okay, Y/N-nie," he murmurs, "I understand. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Seungcheol hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing with uncertainty as he asks, "Am I being selfish if I say that I want you to be mine, and no one else?"

You chuckle softly at his question, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. "Not at all," you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring. "I want to be yours, Seungcheol. No one else."

A flicker of relief passes over his features at your words, but there's still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "But... is it okay for me to want that?" he asks, his voice tinged with insecurity.

You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Of course it is," you murmur against his mouth. "In fact, it's more than okay. It's what I want too."

Seungcheol's eyes widen in surprise at your words, his expression softening with a mixture of disbelief and joy. "Really?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, your smile widening as you take his hand in yours. "Really," you confirm.

[eggmeralda]

I hate uni so much atm

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n thinks Lando wants nothing to do with her so she goes on a date with someone else and Lando angrily comes to crash it

amazing idea! thanks for your request anon! also i listened to this song while i wrote this and i think it goes so well!

tw: fem!reader, swears, miscommunication i think, idk lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.7k

"this is actually exciting! how long as it been since you've been on a date?" your friend asks as she curls a piece of your soft hair around her hair curler. you shrug, a little embarrassed at how long it has been since someone had asked you out. you had invited your best friend to come over and help you get ready. it was some guy called jamie that had asked you out and you were almost certain he was an engineer in the mclaren garage.

so when you both hear a knock at the door two hours before he was supposed to pick you up, you are both in a tizzy. your friend almost burned your neck with the scorching hot curling wand. you throw the nearest thing you can find over the top of your - quite revealing- top. it happens to be a black t-shirt lando had left at yours the last time he had stayed over.

the british driver was the sole reason why you had never been on a date with a guy for a whole two years. you had been friends since his f1 debut but just shy of a year ago, things progressed between the two of you. lando had gotten second in his home race and he was over the moon. you had finally been able to make it to the race, your work schedule finally clearing up in your favour for the first time in a while. to make an incredibly long and complex story short, you had ended up friends with benefits. your agreement had lasted up until last week. the rules were you two had to end things before seeing anyone else but you were to stay friends no matter what and of course, lando had found some girl he wanted to take out so he broke things off. it broke you. you knew falling for lando was a stupid thing to do and you really did try not to but it was difficult, he was lando, he was one of your best friends for a reason. so when jamie asked you out, you had jumped at the chance to try and get over your curly haired best friend.

you open the door to see none other than lando on the opposite side.

"hey, you look good, where you going?" he asks as he walks past you and into your apartment. you roll your eyes at him letting himself in. what was even the point of knocking in the first place?

"she's got a date and we're in the middle of getting ready right now." your friend sasses lando as she emerges from your room, her 'getting ready' playlist, as she had dubbed it, was still blaring in the room. lando looks up at you from his spot on your couch. his eyes narrow.

"a date?" the boy questions. you furrow your brows, unsure at what he is trying to get at.

"yes. a date. you know, like the one you went on last week? one of those." your a little teasing as you throw your words at him. lando rolls his eyes.

"yeah yeah i know what a date is, i'm just confused. i didn't know you were looking to date?" lando says and you were probably making it up but you swore you could sense some hurt in his voice. yeah there was no way that lando was hurt that you were going on a date, he had literally done the same thing and broken it off with you to do so, last week!

"i'm not looking to date. i got asked out and i said yes." you explain even though you don't really need to explain yourself. lando didn't with you.

"you never say yes. who asked you out?" lando interrogates you, it annoyed you to no end.

"does it really matter? i think he's nice. i never asked you all these questions when you went out on your date last week, did i?" you roll your eyes, walking back over to your friend, silently letting her know you wanted to go back through to your room to get ready and to fet away from lando. you don't wait to listen to see if lando responds - he doesn't anyway, keeping quiet. he knew you were right. it was wrong to act like this, to act jealous of this guy, not when you guys weren't even serious. not that you seen it that way. to you, lando was just being protective.

you sit back down with a sigh, while your friend returns to curling your hair. your friend tries to distract you from whatever just happened with lando as you turn the music up and try to get excited for your date. it gets a little hard when there is a lull in the conversation between the two of you and your mind starts working overtime. you start to wonder if lando would even want anything to do with you after him and this girl get closer. you have always dreaded the day one of lando's girlfriends would want you two to create some distance between you both. you had a sneaky feeling that it would be sooner rather than later.

the timing is perfect as you hear several knocks at your door just as your spraying your favourite gucci perfume lando had gotten you from christmas. even going on a date with someone else, lando was with you the whole time. you answer the door with a smile on your face, jamie returning it.

your friend and lando are sat on your couch watching a random show lando had put on while waiting for you to get ready. he did want to apologise but your date was here and he would rather do it just the two of you anyway. when the brunette seen it was one of the mclaren engineers, he feels the anger swell up inside of him. that should be him, lando had finally realised in that moment, lightbulb lighting up in his brain.

you go off with jamie, his arm interlocked with yours. he takes you to some fancy restaurant not too far away. he talks the full time about his job as an engineer and how exciting it was moving from race to race with the mclaren drivers. he babbles on and on about how he has been interested in motorsports since he was a child and how working with an actual formula one team had been his dream since forever. all the guy spoke about was himself. not once asking you about yourself or your own job. you had tried to get a word in but it was difficult when he just did not stop talking about himself since you both had sat down. the only time he was not talking was when his mouth was full of food.

you had gotten maybe halfway through your main course before you hear heavy footsteps heading towards your general direction. jamie is still talking away about how he got his degree and how amazing school was for him like you were actually listening and if he even spared a glance in your direction then he would be able to tell by your face that absolutely were not, in any way shape or form, listening. you probably had not even taken a word in since before the starters.

the footsteps get closer until they stop at your table. you look up and your eyes meet lando's furious ones. you were confused as to why he was angry but you were sure you were both (and maybe the entire restaurant) were about to find out.

"what the fuck are you doing?" lando asks you. this finally made jamie stop talking. you could kiss lando for many different reasons, the main one being he looked hot when he was angry.

"me? what am i doing?" you ask. lando nods his head. "i'm on my date. the one i said i was going on."

lando scoffs. "with one of my engineers? you're doing this to get back at me for ending things." lando straight up accuses you. you gasp up at him, dumbfounded. this causes jamie to speak up again and ask "you two were a thing? i didn't know," he looks at lando "seriously, man i didn't know, she didn't say anything. if i knew i would never have asked her out."

lando just stares at the man. his hand then digs into his pocked and fishes out his wallet, throws cash down on the table, grabs your hand pulling you out of your chair and drags you out the restaurant. once outside and away from anyone, you pull your hand out of his grasp.

"what are you doing? i told you i was going on a date! you have no right to act like this!" you shout at him, finger pointing at him.

lando's eyes roll. "yeah but you didn't mention it was with someone i work with. you are clearly trying to get back at me for going on a date with that girl and ending things with you." lando accuses you again.

"how is that me getting back at you? i already told you i don't care who you want to date. kiss who you want i couldn't care less." you lie straight to his face and lando can tell straight away. instead of arguing about it with you though. he mumbles "i wanna kiss you." then pushes you against the brick wall, gently before his lips are attacking yours. he leaves little nips and bites as he kisses you harshly. letting a bit of his frustrations because of the lost time between the two of you, out in the kiss. you kiss back just and hard. your hands clutch at his shirt as he holds your hips in place against the wall. lando pulls away panting, his forehead resting on yours.

"m'so sorry. i couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else. then i realised that's probably how you felt with me too, then i just had to see you and stop you from spending anymore time with him." lando explains, a little guilty. you smile as you let your hand come up to stroke his eyebrow gently.

"he was a fucking bore anyways." you tell lando who laughs as he leans in for another kiss.