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#But I think most of it look like it’s from the show
corkinavoid · 3 days
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DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman
[A loose continuation to this post]
Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.
And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.
"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.
It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.
"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.
The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.
Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."
Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."
At least that makes the man move.
When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.
The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.
"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.
"This is not necessary, Mother."
"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.
"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.
"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."
She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.
Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"
"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.
Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.
"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.
Damian doesn't answer.
The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-
A few things happen at once.
Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.
But Talia's blade doesn't strike.
A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.
Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.
But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.
"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.
"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.
"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.
But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.
"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.
Hold the fuck up, brother?
"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.
"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.
"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.
"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."
There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.
Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.
"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.
"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.
"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."
"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."
Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.
"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."
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fastandcarlos · 2 days
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Baby Perez Is Mine : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: after getting to know your brother’s team mate max, you soon find that it’s more than just a friendship that’s struck between the two of you
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liked by schecoperez, lilymhe and 179,583 others
ynperez: always a joy to pay a visit to red bull and make sure everyone knows that mexicans obviously do it best ❤️💙
27,058 comments
username1: I just love how supportive yn is of sergio and his whole career!
schecoperez: thanks for always making sure there’s at least one sergio fan in the crowd 😘
ynperez: @/schecoperez always got your back brother 🫶🏻
username2: it’s nice to see someone in a red bull hat with two 1s on it for a change
maxverstappen1: tell that to the driver’s standings loser 😂
ynperez: @/maxverstappen1 we don’t accept any perez slander in this house thank you!!
username3: it’s the way she just pops up at all these random races for me 😂
carlossainz55: want me to show you the spanish way? 🇪🇸
ynperez: @/carlossainz55 can assure you no one is as smooth as a perez 😏
username4: thank you yn for always being sergio’s number one fan 🥺
username5: ngl max gives me annoying middle sibling vibes when he’s with these two 😂
lilymhe: sorry you were at the race and didn’t think to come and see me 😤
ynperez: @/lilymhe sorryyyyy it was just too busy, I promise next time I’m yours 🥺
username6: the way that most of the drivers and wags love yn more than anyone else speaks volumes 🔊
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liked by lancestroll, redbullracing and 582,048 others
schecoperez: such a proud weekend to be racing at home with so much support. thank you to everyone in mexico for all the love 🇲🇽🏎️
37,048 comments
maxverstappen1: super race and lots of points, let’s push on to the end of the season 💪🏻
username7: no one can convince me that these two aren’t secretly the cutest pairing on the grid
ynperez: most of that love was from me btw, loudest in the grandstand by far 🥲
schecoperez: @/ynperez have I mentioned your the best baby sister ever 🤔
username8: I hope you heard us nice and loud whilst you were driving around today sergio 🫶🏻
username9: thank you for always bringing the party to the podium ❤️
estebanocon: you should race at home more often if you perform like that
username10: such an incredible weekend, we’re all so proud of you sergio!!
landonorris: idk where that hat came from but I need one asap 😂
schecoperez: @/landonorris we don’t just give these out to any random guy you know
username11: I’m not ready for this weekend to be over already…
danielricciardo: huge race buddy, congrats on some super points 💪🏻
username12: not me not wondering when we’ll next get to see yn and sergio together again 💔
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 2,859,261 others
maxverstappen1: no better way to spend a week off than exploring the world with my favourite person 🥺 (who also bribes me with beer to take selfies so it’s worth it 😭🍺)
274,261 comments
charles_leclerc: fancy telling us who the lucky girl is that’s taken the max verstappen off the market!?!?
username13: I was not prepared for max to drop this bomb on us today
alex_albon: look at you being all mysterious and secretive on instagram 😂
redbullracing: all we needed to do was buy a beer to stop you giving admin a breakdown with your shocking social posts…
maxverstappen1: @/redbullracing admin can comment when you’ve got more followers than me ☺️
username14: whoever this girl is, she must make max incredibly weak for him to agree to take a selfie 😂
landonorris: congrats on being able to finally take a half decent photo 👏🏻
username15: boyfriend era max can be welcomed with open arms!!
schecoperez: we work together every week and fail to mention you’ve got a girlfriend 🙄
maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez you have to promise not to kill me if I share…
schecoperez: @/maxverstappen1 you can’t tell me something like that and not elaborate!!
danielricciardo: if I knew beer was all it took I’d have got you social media trained years ago 🤦🏻‍♂️
username16: who is this favourite person and how can I take their place???
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 193,747 others
ynperez: turns out the dutch just as good as the mexicans 🥺🏎️
38,372 comments
username17: wtf this is the plot twist that I did not see coming 😱
schecoperez: still getting over this absolute betrayal btw 😭
ynperez: @/schecoperez I promise you’re still secretly my number one 🫶🏻
landonorris: wasn’t happy with f1 driver in your life so decided to pull another too ☺️
username18: and now I remember why yn is so popular with all the other drivers 😂
danielricciardo: last time I checked max was mine and now you come along and stolen him 😭
carmenmmundt: why do i feel like I’ve blinked and missed a whole load of chapters here???
ynperez: @/carmenmmundt answer your damn phone and I’ll fill you in!!
username19: why do I feel like I’ve missed out on so many chapters in the story here
alex_albon: I hope you’re only making reference to their driving in that caption 🤔
ynperez: @/alex_albon @/lilymhe come get your man and his head out the gutter please!!
username20: rip sergio 😭 he must be a ruined man right now
username21: how did none of us actually see this coming with how close they are??
flavy.barla: emergency date night for all the details is pending…
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liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 327,509 others
ynperez: for all the red bull girlies terrified I had ruined the team forever, here’s the three of us are playing a game of padel to remind you that red bull are gonna win the championship again this year! ❤️💙
52,927 comments
username22: if there’s one person who always believes in red bull it’s yn 🤩
maxverstappen1: you nearly ruined the relationship by picking to play with sergio instead of me 😭
ynperez: @/maxverstappen1 you were better than the two of us combined anyway 😂
username23: why do I feel like yn was more there to be cheerleader than actually player??
landonorris: wondering where my invite to this game was??
danielricciardo: @/landonorris funnily enough the text didn’t arrive on my phone either
oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo @/landonorris I thought it was just me who’d been forgotten 💔
ynperez: @/oscarpiastri that’s because you’re so bad you make me look good at padel 😂
username24: I also want to be part of these padel games fyi 🙌🏻
schecoperez: that’s what we call a fake smile trying to not be sick watching the two of you together 🤮
ynperez: @/schecoperez you love us both really 💙
lancestroll: when they said red bull was a happy family, I didn’t realise quite how close that family was 😂
username25: these photos summarise the team perfectly, sergio just happy to be here whilst max is super focused and competitive!
georgerussell63: next time we’ll have to play a game together
carmenmmundt: @/georgerussell63 @/ynperez we can sit and gossip whilst the boys play more like 😂
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liked by schecoperez, charles_leclerc and 3,842,162 others
maxverstappen1: so proud to win another world title and do it with my best friend right by my side. thank you for all the incredible support this year, red bull fans really are the best ❤️🏆💙
482,172 comments
ynperez: couldn’t be happier to be there by your side today, congratulations on an incredible season darling 💞
maxverstappen1: @/ynperez you’re the best prize to come out of this season still 💞
username26: were all so proud of you max, yet another incredible season 🎉
landonorris: next year I’m coming for your ass just so you know 😉
username27: this thread of photos must have sergio raging in his driver’s room somewhere
schecoperez: don’t remember my sister being the one to race alongside you all season 🤷🏻‍♂️
username28: never in doubt, we all always knew you’d do it max!!
danielricciardo: I always knew you’d do it all those years ago…and look where we are now!
username29: best friend 🥺 if you listen closely you can hear sergio’s heart breaking…
charles_leclerc: it’s been an honour as always to race alongside you this season! 👏🏻
username30: it can’t be denied that these two are just the cutest!
username31: who knew a dutch and a mexican could be so well suited 🤩
redbullracing: our champion and our driver, we couldn’t be happier to have you with us max ❤️💙
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liked by ynperez, schecoperez and 3,117,058 others
maxverstappen1: turns out I forgot to mention the other perez in my life, so shout out to sergio for being the best teammate ever and introducing me to his smoking hot sister 🔥
317,028 comments
schecoperez: this was almost a cute caption until I read that last sentence…and now I want to knock you out 🥊
maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez just remember the bit where I told you you were the best teammate ever 😘
username32: how have I only just noticed how chaotic this duo is 😂
username33: admin hurry up and bring us more content from these two asap!
username34: max better start running whilst sergio hunts down his ass
username35: I wonder if yn realises what she’s started with these two now 🤔
username36: how has it taken me this long to realise how good of a team these two are 😂
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 328,018 others
ynperez: best date ever to watch my best friend get married 🥂 so happy to spend your special day with you sergio and carolina 💞
38,472 comments
username37: you two look incredible…congratulations sergio and carolina 💞
schecoperez: hopefully it’ll be you guys next and we’ll be welcoming max into the family 🥺
maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez is this you saying you want to be brothers in law??? 🥹
schecoperez: @/maxverstappen1: let’s not get too ahead of ourselves now…
landonorris: @/schecoperez I agree, hurry up and put a ring on it verstappen 😂
username38: I can’t get over how adorable the two of you are together 😭
landonorris: who knew you two scrubbed up so well!?
ynperez: @/landonorris we just hide it well 😇
username39: is this extended invite sergio finally accepting of max!?
estebanocon: I’ve never heard a sister of the groom speech before, but you really set quite the high standard 😂
username40: can’t wait for these three to keep annoying each other forever 😂
danielricciardo: damn yn idk what you’ve done to max but he’s never looked hotter 🔥
ynperez: @/danielricciardo careful otherwise people might think it’s you two who are dating…
username41: this feels like a competition to pick which is the cuter couple…
oscarpiastri: looks like you guys all had the most magical day 🥂
username42: you know I secretly think sergio is thrilled that they’re together, he just hides it well 😂
maxverstappen1: feeling pretty lucky to have the most beautiful date in the world, my stunning girl 💞
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 it’s easy to look good with you by my side 🥺
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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pangur-and-grim · 1 day
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I'm looking into getting a purebred cat for the first time because I've developed allergies, and it's such a different world from my niche corner of dog breeding, I'm so lost How common is it for cat breeders to focus on temperament over conformation? I've shown a dog and been to many shows, and am working on a breed in development. I'm uncomfortable with a fixation on "correct" appearance versus a heavy focus on what an animal's quality of life is and what they're like to live with If I'm paying more for a kitten than I charge for a puppy I want to know the breeder has done a lot of handling and enrichment, grooming conditioning (for relevant breeds), and pair their cats for temperament strengths and weaknesses, not just conformation. What should I look for on a breeder site/what should I ask without sounding rude? I also have seen a couple breeders advertise a health guarantee including FIP for one year, and I'm wondering how that's possible. Can you really guarantee against it? I'm so sorry you and your gremlin are going through this, it sounds like a rollercoaster!
it's difficult to answer your first question! cat breeding seems more…..casual in terminology than dog breeding, if that makes sense? 
with temperament, there’s a stereotype for each breed (Bengals = active, Siamese = yowly, Ragdolls = angelic beings, etc). breeders often have a page on their site explaining their idea of what the breed is (the ideal appearance, personality, and so on), and then a section with their breeding cats, with blurbs for each one. and they usually also have social media, where you can see how these cats slot into their lives.
if you’re from the states, be VERY WARY of breeders who cage their cats! that’s more of a cultural norm there, and personally, I prefer breeders who treat their animals like family members and live alongside them.
here are two examples of breeders who go above and beyond: Praticalcats and Trillium Devon Rex. their sites give away how obsessive they are about their animals - all the articles on Praticalcats, and all the genetic testing on Trillium - and I would feel comfortable recommending them to anyone who asked.
as for over-emphasis on a “correct” appearance – for each breed, there will be a certain look that’s a red flag. Devon Rexes that are too brachy, Maine Coons that are too large, Siamese that are too spindly, etc. if you do enough research on your breed of choice, you’ll start recognizing it. the cat will look more ‘special’, and more ‘like it’s breed’, but it’s an exaggeration at the cost of other qualities.
for specific questions like what handling they do, whether they’re conditioned to tolerate grooming, and how the cats get paired with buyers, most of the time you have to contact a breeder to ask that. there should be a mini job interview before any money changes hand, where the breeder grills you, and you get to return the favour. if a breeder skips this, I’d consider that a major red flag. and don’t worry about sounding rude, a good breeder will be delighted that you care so much about all of this!
and now, the guarantee against FIP – what are they guaranteeing, exactly? it might be a guarantee that they’ll replace the kitten if they develop FIP (the contract with my breeder had a similar clause). but if they’re guaranteeing that any kitten from them won’t develop FIP, then that’s nonsense. basically all young cats get exposed to the feline coronavirus that causes FIP, and whether they develop it or not is just a lottery gamble. I'd be suspicious of any breeder who claims that their kittens are exempt from this.
anyway, I think I've answered everything. hopefully that was helpful, and not just me rambling!
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julietsf1 · 1 day
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Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader
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Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3
warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?
AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies
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The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.
When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.
“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”
He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”
I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Suddenly, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.
With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.
“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.
He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.
I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”
A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.
Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.
“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”
He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”
His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.
As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.
Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.
“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.
My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.
I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.
His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.
I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.
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ham1lton · 1 day
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NASTY GIRL!
— pairings: oscar piastri x reader.
— faceclaim: rihanna <3
— summary: slut, whore, bitch - all the words that have been used to describe famous party girl yn yln. so when you show up to the grid with a shiny diamond ring on your hand, people are trying to figure out just who would choose you.
— warnings: misogynistic language and attitudes about yn’s behaviour and actions. not from any of the main characters in this au though!
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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enews: y/n may not be releasing new music anytime soon, but she’s definitely making waves—this time under the sea. the party girl was spotted scuba diving in italy with her usual mixed-gender crew, proving once again that vacationing is her real full-time job. 🎶 or should we say, lack of? #priorities #wherethemusicat?
view all comments
badgalyn: y’all stay on my dick 😭 hop off.
-> user1: LMFAOOOOOO
user2: can a girl not holiday now?
user3: idgaf if she’s partying. she’s been working since she was 16. have a mimosa for me babe <3
-> user4: bffr. she just sings into a mic for a living. that’s not a job.
-> user5: every job is a job. and every job has it’s downsides. she’s been touring every year since her debut almost ten years ago. let her breathe 😭
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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liked by ynupdates, ferrarigirlies and 2,737,839 others.
f1gossip: look who’s in the ferrari garage today! the singer/songwriter yn on break from… well, her eternal break. and what is that we saw on her hot girl walk through the paddock? a diamond ring? oop 🙊
view all 277,828 comments
user1: LEAVE YN ALONE !1!1!1!111
user2: she’s engaged to charles and they’re gonna have the most gorgeous kids!!
-> user3: um… could be carlos?
-> user2: no 😜
user3: nahhhhh no way she’s engaged 😷
-> user4: like c’mon. it’s probably a rich ceo from behind the scenes. no self respecting f1 driver would want HER 😒
-> user5: like who would actually marry her?
-> user6: u sound so miserable 😭
-> user7: like what fucking weirdos LMFAO 😭 focus on yourselves.
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liked by ynsgirlie, oscarspiastri and 1,108,890 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: singer/songwriter yn was invited by ferrari to watch the baku grand prix but was seen relaxing in the mclaren garage after a photo op. the moment went viral on social media, what do you think of yn’s disappearance ham1ltons?
view all 18,992 comments
user1: idgaf. she can do whatever she wants.
user2: she’s so fucking ungrateful my god.
user3: love her!!!!
user4: who cares?? i just wanna know who put that ring on her finger???
user5: RELEASE THE ALBUM @/BADGALYN
-> user6: RELEASE THAT SHIT NOWW
badgalyn: is it illegal for me to move from place to place now? like damn 😭
-> user7: they stay on ur ass like
-> user8: WHO DOES THAT BIG FAT RING BELONG TO ?!!?!!
-> user8: I KNOW U SEE THIS SHIT
-> user8: ANSWER ME 😭😭
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
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liked by landonorris, badgalyn and 1,090,123 others.
f1: oscar piastri is your ‘24 baku grand prix winner!
view all 80,828 comments
user1: OSCAR GIRLIES EVERYWHERE CHEERED
user2: YASSSSSSSS
user3: SO PROUD WOOOOOOO
user4: YN WHAT ARE U DOING HERE 😭
nicolepiastri: that’s my son btw 🍾🥂
user5: DID Y’ALL SEE YN RUNNING OUT TO KISS OSCAR?????
-> user6: WHAT?2&2&
-> user7: GIRL IT’S ALL OVER TWT
-> user7: https://twitter.com/ynsgirl/status/827373832992125
-> user8: oh… they in love frfr
-> user9: SICK OMG SICK SICK SICK
-> user9: HATE SEEING HAPPY COUPLES
-> user10: the way he carries her?? ims ick
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
INTERVIEW W/ YN YLN.
by james collins.
she walks into the room like she owns it, a diamond-studded one of a kind necklace hanging off her neck, and a confidence that can only come from being at the top of her game. y/n yln is more than just a household name at this point—she’s a cultural phenomenon. whether it's topping the charts, turning heads with her bold fashion choices, or making headlines for her unapologetic lifestyle, y/n is everywhere.
GQ: let’s get right into it. you’ve never been one to shy away from controversy. you've been called everything from a "party girl" to… well, a lot worse. how do you deal with the constant slut-shaming?
Y/N: (laughs) i mean, what can i say? people are gonna talk whether i’m out at the club or chilling at home in sweats. they see me having fun, and they can’t handle it. honestly, i don’t care. i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.
GQ: that’s the attitude that’s made you so iconic. but it seems like the more successful you get, the more people try to tear you down. how do you stay grounded amidst all the noise?
Y/N: honestly, it’s all about knowing who you are. like, i know what i bring to the table. the opinions of strangers on the internet? they don’t pay my bills, they don’t run my career. i’ve got a solid circle around me—my family, my team, my people. they keep it real with me, and that’s what matters. plus, i’ve got my own inner voice. if i let every hater get to me, i wouldn’t be where i am now. you gotta block out the noise and keep doing you.
GQ: you’re definitely doing that, and it shows in your music. speaking of which, your last album broke records and you’ve hinted that the next one’s even more personal. what’s the inspiration behind it?
Y/N: oh, this next album is gonna hit different. it’s like a reflection of the last few years—everything i’ve been through, the highs, the lows, and the lessons. i’ve been writing a lot about love, discovery, identity, and power. there’s a track on there that’s straight-up about how people have tried to label me my whole life, and i’m just like, ‘f**k that, i define me.’ there’s some deep stuff in there, but also bangers that’ll make you wanna dance your ass off. it’s a mix, just like me.
GQ: there’s been a lot of talk about one specific song that fans think is about your alleged relationship. care to spill the tea on that?
YN: (smiling) oh, you mean *that* song? (laughs) yeah, people are good at picking up on things. look, i’m not saying too much, but let’s just say it’s a vibe. relationships—especially when you’re in the spotlight—are complicated, and i’m not afraid to write about it. but you’ll have to listen to the track to get the full story.
GQ: fair enough. now, let’s address the gorgeous and expensive elephant in the room—that ring. fans have been speculating non-stop about your engagement. can you confirm or deny the rumors?
Y/N: (grinning) ah, you’re nosy! but yeah, the ring’s real, and it’s from someone very special. look, i’ve never been one to hide anything, but i also love keeping certain things close to my chest. all i’m saying is… things are good. real good.
GQ: the internet’s been trying to piece it together, especially after you were spotted at the mclaren paddock with oscar piastri. any comments on that?
YN: (laughs) you are really trying to get me in trouble! look, i support my friends, i show up for them, and they show up for me. that’s all i’m saying for now. but if people want to talk, let them talk. i’m busy living my life.
GQ: fair enough! last question—what’s next for y/n yln?
Y/N: taking over the world, obviously. (laughs) but for real, the album is coming soon, and i’m working on some new projects that’ll surprise a lot of people. i’m not just a singer, i’m building an empire. music, fashion, business—it’s all on the horizon. so, buckle up, we’re just getting started.
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tagged: @/badgalyn
liked by ynswifey, ham1ltonshaderoom and 4,938,983 others
gqmagazine: from island girl to international superstar: our newest covergirl yn yln talks slutshaming, her upcoming album and wedding rumours in this months gq magazine. link in bio! 🔗
view all 2,737,938 comments
oscarpiastri: real good is an understatement 😉
-> user1: WHAT)2&/@/
-> user2: yn being all cryptic and oscar straight up like ‘yeah we together and what about it?’
-> user3: OSCAR HELLO?2&2
landonorris: am i invited to the wedding?
-> landonorris: hellloooo @/badgalyn????
-> landonorris: i’m sosoooooo drunk @/badgalyn
-> landonorris: YYYYYNNNNNNN 😭😭😭
user4: she’s such a bad bitch idgaf
-> user5: ‘i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.’ — AS YOU SHOULD QUEEN!!!!
user6: y’all … oscaryn is growing on me fr
user7: this is so wattpad trope i love this for them
user8: YN RELEASE THE ALBUM!!!!
user9: MIC DROP FROM OSCAR YUP YUP!
user10: she’s so gorgeous… her face card omg
user11: Y/N YLN AND OSCAR FREAKING PIASTRI ARE ENGAGED AND CONFIRMED IT IN THE MOST CASUAL WAY?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION TODAY?!?!
user12: oscaryn engagement. yn6 being in the works. more pics of yn’s face card. ynnies, we won today.
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
— oscar taglist: @papayadays @assholeinatrenchcoat @mxdi0 @lillysbigwilly @liberty-barnes @yelenasloverrrrr @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @mvk1ma @lozzamez3 @dear-fifi @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @styl1shl1v @whyamireadingthis @halleest @s4misbetter @llando4norris @chezmardybum @ivyvlair @isthatacandle @luvsforme @fabulouskk01 @littlegrapejuice @anotherblackreader @laur20a23 @greantii @sumlovesjude @sageispunk @mindless-rock @mehrmonga @ravisinghs-wife @six-call @notyaslol @1-800-love-me @nzygftoji @dilflover44 @ilivbullyingjeongin (all works taglist in comments/reblog. if you see yourself tagged and you don’t want to be or you don’t see yourself tagged and you want to be — refill out the taglist in my pinned post! <3)
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
595 notes · View notes
00kittenz · 3 days
Text
cry for me.
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pair: bf!sunghoon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, fingering, edging, dacryphilia, daddy kink
[ mdni !! ] currently suffering from severe brainrot thinking a little too much about being a needy n whiny mess for sunghoon’s fingers.. he gets off on hearing you whimpering and begging for him to let you come as he finger fucks you relentlessly, edging you until you’re on the verge of tears and just can’t physically take it anymore (◜﹏◝)
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
you’re on top of sunghoon, straddling his lap while riding his fingers in his bed, whining loudly as you hastily grind your hips against him. his free hand finds purchase on the slope of your waist, eventually sliding upwards to grope your tits— pinching and rubbing at your taut nipples. “fuck, you look so hot..” he praised, loving how dumb and fucked out you looked already, mouth forming a gaping ‘o’ as he pumps his digits harder. he watches as your body tenses up above him, bringing your shaky hand to your throbbing clit for even more stimulation; rubbing in circles at a breakneck speed. sunghoon already had two fingers thrusting inside your tight, but you were feeling extra greedy for your man’s attention tonight.
“more..” you yelp, “wan’ more please !” it truly felt as though you could cry, begging to receive what you so desperately wanted. instead of listening, he chooses to play dumb with you, getting more enjoyment out of seeing how flustered you get. “more what ?” he asked in a sweet, yet condescending tone, “use your words, doll.” he knew exactly what he’s doing. this only caused you to whine even more, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks but you gained absolutely no sympathy from the man below you, not even an ounce.
“better hurry, or i won’t make you come at all.” he warns, showing very little to no empathy. it took everything in you to be able to speak, it was like you were keeping the only breath you had hostage. you take in a few inhales to catch your ragged breath before telling him what you crave, “your fingers daddy.. give me more please..” his lips crept into an accomplished smile and chuckles at how needy and pathetic you’ve become for him. “this what you wanted, baby?” without warning, a third finger plunges into your sopping cunt. your moans would only get louder, crying out as you hold onto sunghoon’s shoulder to stabilize yourself.
“so fucking tight, favorite fucking slut.” he groans, feeling his cock stiffen from the way you were clenching around his digits, you lost all sense of control at this point—shakily thrusting your hips to ride out your stampeding high. “gonna come for me my sweet?” his fingers still skillfully working in you, pushing you further and further to the edge. “yes daddy, coming— gonna come !” you were all worked up, sweaty, and dizzy from the ecstasy that shot through you but that pleasure was soon denied from you as sunghoon withdrew his fingers, watching your gushing arousal seep down to your thighs. your mouth went agape, crying and moaning out to him why he did that to you when you were so close. how could he be so cruel to you like that? ;( again, you were met with no remorse at all..
“awwe, crying again are we ?” he mocks you for the hundredth time in a row, “we’re just getting started.. ’m gonna edge this pretty little cunt for hours, ‘til you’re begging for me to stop. did i make myself clear enough, baby girl?” you nervously swallow, slowly nodding to show your obedience, “y-yes.. i heard you loud and clear daddy.” he was going to have his entire way with you for the whole night, watching you grow weak and over sensitive as he brings you to the peak of your orgasm thinking he’ll finally let you come but only for him to stop and do it again. you see your boyfriend’s methods of foreplay as softcore torture but he sees your cries as the most beautiful thing on earth, a cure that remedies his corrupt, perverted mind…
my b if this is bad LOL, i literally wrote this so quickly and i’m like half asleep bye-
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judebellswife · 3 days
Text
First Glimpse - Jude Bellingham
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— REQUEST status OPEN
— pairing • jude bellingham x fem!reader
— summary • In Jude Bellingham’s much-anticipated documentary series, fans are given an intimate look into the football star’s life, with a special feature introducing his long-time girlfriend—you. Known for keeping a low profile despite dating one of football’s brightest stars, this marks your first public appearance. During a heartwarming interview, you open up about how you and Jude met, even though you already knew who he was, and how you never expected to become his girlfriend. The episode includes candid moments with Jude’s family, particularly his parents and younger brother, Jobe, with a special Thanksgiving Eve gathering where you all share laughter, love, and togetherness. Through your eyes, fans get to see a more personal side of Jude and his close-knit family.
— warnings • none :)
— note • i’ve got like 7-8 request about to write a one-shot with reader featuring in one of jude’s document series. so here it is, i hope you enjoy, happy reading!!
The camera focuses in on a familiar setting for those who follow Jude Bellingham’s career: the cozy, welcoming living room of the Bellingham family home. The walls are adorned with family photos, mementos from Jude’s rise in football, and hints of his personality—trophies and framed jerseys alongside warm family portraits.
But today, the focus is on you. You sit on the sofa, the soft cushions surrounding you as the camera captures your slight nervousness. A small, warm smile crosses your face, and you shift in your seat, unused to the spotlight.
A voice from behind the camera breaks the silence. The interviewer. “So, this is your first time on camera. How are you feeling?”
You chuckle, glancing off-screen for a moment as if looking for support before turning back. “Yeah, it’s definitely new for me. I’m more of a private person, so this is... different, but I’m excited to be part of this.”
There’s an understanding laugh from the interviewer. “For everyone watching, could you introduce yourself?”
You nod and give a small wave. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Jude’s girlfriend, and, um... yeah, I’m usually not in front of the camera, so this is a bit out of my comfort zone,” you say, your voice laced with both nerves and humor.
The interviewer continues smoothly, keeping the tone light. “So, let’s jump into the good stuff. How did you and Jude meet?”
You pause for a moment, your eyes softening as you think back to the day. “Well, I actually knew who Jude was,” you begin with a smile. “I mean, he’s Jude Bellingham. Anyone who follows football knows who he is. But I never imagined I’d actually end up dating him. That wasn’t even on my radar.”
The camera cuts to a shot of Jude laughing in an earlier part of the documentary, as if he’s recounting the same story, though from his perspective. His grin is wide, and there’s a glint in his eyes that shows how much he enjoys this memory.
You continue, your voice a little more relaxed now as you find your rhythm. “We met through mutual friends at a small gathering. I’d seen him play on TV and heard about him through the grapevine, but when we met in person, he was just... Jude. Not the football star. Just this really laid-back, funny guy.”
“So, did you know right away that you liked him?” the interviewer asks, intrigued.
You laugh, shaking your head. “Not at all. I was definitely attracted to him—he’s handsome, obviously—but I didn’t expect anything more than just a friendly conversation that night. I thought it’d be a ‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ and that’d be it.”
There’s a brief pause, and the interviewer presses gently. “So what changed?”
You smile, eyes twinkling with the memory. “Jude changed. We ended up talking the whole night. It was so easy with him, and I realized he wasn’t just this football prodigy everyone sees on the pitch. He’s so much more. Kind, funny, and really grounded. But it was his persistence that surprised me the most. After that night, he didn’t just let it end there. He reached out, wanted to spend time with me, and honestly? I couldn’t resist his charm.”
The camera switches to a series of candid clips, showing you and Jude out and about—him pulling faces to make you laugh, you playfully pushing him away before being pulled into a hug. It’s the kind of chemistry that makes it clear this relationship runs deep, full of mutual adoration and comfort.
“So, how long have you two been together now?” the interviewer asks off-screen.
You think for a second, tilting your head slightly as you calculate. “A little over two years now. Time flies, honestly. It’s been an incredible ride.”
“And what’s it been like, dating someone as high-profile as Jude?”
You take a deep breath, nodding. “It’s definitely been an adjustment. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, especially with how much attention he gets. But we had a conversation early on about keeping our relationship private, at least until we were ready. Jude’s been really protective of that—he’s always made sure I feel comfortable, and I love that about him. But I also understand that he’s a public figure, and being with him means that sometimes, I’ll be seen too. This,” you gesture around at the cameras, “is one of those times.”
The camera cuts to another moment—this time, Jude and you are walking through a park, your hands loosely clasped together. He swings your arm playfully, then stops to pull you into his side, whispering something in your ear that makes you laugh. It’s easy, intimate, and full of warmth.
“Speaking of being seen,” the interviewer continues, “how does it feel to finally share a bit of your relationship with the world?”
You laugh softly. “It’s exciting, I guess. People have always been curious, but I’ve been pretty firm about staying out of the spotlight. I’m not someone who thrives on attention like Jude does. But it’s nice to be able to show this part of his life. People know him as the footballer, but they don’t really see the person behind all of that. I’m happy to share a little bit of what we have, because it’s special.”
The camera pans across the Bellingham household, warm and inviting with the sounds of family chatter filling the air. Thanksgiving Eve at the Bellingham’s is a full house. Jude’s dad, Mark, is in the living room, laughing loudly with Jobe and Jude as they discuss football, while his mom, Denise, is in the kitchen, bustling about as she prepares the family meal.
The lens of the camera focuses on you for a moment. You’re helping Denise chop vegetables, your hands moving a little slower than hers but with focus, and you share a comfortable conversation. A nervous laugh escapes you as you attempt to cut the vegetables to her standard.
“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” you ask, holding up an unevenly chopped carrot with a teasing smile. “It doesn’t look quite like yours.”
Denise glances over and laughs softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm in reassurance. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing just fine,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “Trust me, my first Thanksgiving wasn’t perfect either. And honestly, even if it’s a bit wonky, it’s still going to taste amazing.”
Her words, her tone—there’s something deeply maternal in the way Denise speaks to you. It’s as if you’re already a part of the family, not just Jude’s girlfriend, but someone she holds close to her heart. You smile at her gratefully, feeling that familiar warmth whenever you’re around her.
Denise’s attention turns fully to you now, setting down her wooden spoon and wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. “You know,” she begins, her voice soft and kind, “I’ve always thought of you like a daughter. You’re such a big part of Jude’s life, but you’ve also become such an important part of ours too.”
You look at her, slightly taken aback by the depth of her words. Your heart swells in your chest, not expecting the surge of emotion. “That means the world to me, Denise,” you say, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’ve always felt so welcomed here. You and Mark, and even Jobe—you’ve all made me feel like part of the family from day one.”
Denise steps forward, enveloping you in a gentle but tight hug, the kind that only a mother could give. “That’s because you are family,” she whispers against your shoulder. “We love you like one of our own.”
You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into her embrace, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. In this family, you’ve found something special—something you didn’t expect to have when you first started dating Jude. It’s not just a relationship with him; it’s a bond with the people who raised him, who made him the person you love so deeply.
As you pull away, Denise gives you a warm smile, her eyes soft with affection. “Jude’s a lucky man,” she says, glancing toward the living room where Jude is seated. “But then again, I think we’re all lucky to have you around.”
You chuckle softly, still holding onto the warm feeling in your chest. “I’m the lucky one. Jude’s incredible, and you’ve all been nothing but wonderful.”
Denise’s eyes twinkle as she leans in conspiratorially. “He’s a handful sometimes, though, isn’t he?”
You laugh, nodding in agreement. “Oh, definitely. But I love him all the more for it.”
Denise shakes her head, her smile growing wider. “Good, because he needs someone like you to keep him in check.”
There’s a shared understanding between the two of you, the kind that goes beyond words. Denise pats your hand and returns to stirring the pot, the air between you filled with warmth and affection. It’s a small moment, but one that fills your heart, making you realize just how deeply connected you’ve become to Jude’s family.
The scene transitions to the dining room, where the entire family is gathered around the table. Mark is telling a story, his booming laugh punctuating the conversation as Jobe makes a playful remark. Jude sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of your chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he smiles and laughs along with his family.
“Jobe, pass the bread,” Jude says, reaching across the table with a grin.
Jobe rolls his eyes dramatically but tosses the basket of bread to his brother. “There you go, Mr. Superstar.”
You nudge Jude with your elbow as he catches the bread. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t start charging for autographs at family dinners.”
Jude grins, leaning in closer to you. “Oh, I’d give you an autograph for free,” he teases, his voice low and playful.
You roll your eyes but smile, and as Jude reaches for his plate, Denise catches your eye from across the table. She gives you a wink, as if to say, See what I mean? A handful.
The love and ease that fills the room is palpable. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This family has welcomed you, loved you, and made you one of their own, and tonight is a perfect reflection of that.
The camera lingers on the scene—Jude’s hand resting on your shoulder, Denise watching her sons with pride, and you laughing along with them, fully immersed in the warmth of their family dynamic.
As the evening winds down, and dessert is served, Jude’s dad, Mark, stands up, raising a glass. “I think we all know what I’m about to say,” he begins with a grin. “But this Thanksgiving, I just want to take a moment to say how grateful we all are. Grateful for family, for good health, and, of course, for the wonderful woman who’s come into our lives and made our son the happiest he’s ever been.”
You blink, taken aback by the sudden toast, your eyes glancing around the table. Denise smiles warmly at you, her eyes filled with affection, and Jude leans closer, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.
“To Y/N,” Mark says, raising his glass higher. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”
There’s a soft murmur of agreement as everyone raises their glasses, and you feel your throat tighten with emotion. It’s not just words—it’s a promise. A declaration that you belong here, with them.
As everyone takes a sip, Jude leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “I told you they love you.”
You turn to him, your heart full. “And I love them.”
The camera captures the final moments of the evening—the plates scattered with crumbs, the soft murmur of conversation as everyone winds down, and the love that fills the room. The bond between you and Jude has always been special, but tonight, it’s clear that your relationship extends beyond just the two of you. You’ve found a home with his family, and they’ve found a place in your heart.
As the screen fades to black, the soft hum of background music plays, leaving the viewers with a sense of warmth and love, the credits rolling as the final glimpse of your story is shared with the world.
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maxtermind · 3 days
Note
A smut, or fluff story, anything really. Where reader is slightly chubby with thick thighs, and she’s super insecure and lando hates how she doesn’t see her worth and helps her. - coming from a thicker girlie 🥹
a/n :: got me thinking and like im gonna ramble😓
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lando would honestly be so fucking sweet everytime you'd feel insecure even when he doesn't understand it.
you are literally so beautiful so how could you feel insecure when he's absolutely smitten but he does get it.. he gets it better than most.
maybe you're just lying in bed with a sheet covering your thighs because it's really one of those days.
lando notices and is quick to reach under the sheet to rub your thighs while continuing whatever conversation you guys were having.
you instantly feel your heart calm down a bit and when you kiss him,'thank you.' without saying it out loud. he's just smiling cheekily as his hand keeps on moving higher and higher till it's cupping you fully and a hiss is leaving your lips.
calls you 'pretty girl,' in public whenever he feels like you're closing off with the insecurities creeping in.
glares at people if they stare till they stop.
he is proud of you and none can ever make you feel bad about yourself when you're his
imagine how he eats you out, teeth dragging sinfully against your soft thighs he is holding securely in his hands. dragging out a low,"patience baby!" when you try to grind against him to get his mouth where you need it the most.
"let me show 'em some love before I get you off, baby," and like who are you to reject such a princess treatment when he's making you feel so good.
you know you can approach him whenever.,
"do you think this makes me look ugly?" and he'll look up before his brows would draw together because like what the fuck?
looking at you literally reminded him that his heart beats because of how fast it goes suddenly.
"you look eatable if anything," lando replies nonchalantly before throwing the phone that was in his hand on the couch, pulling up to his lap so he can show you exactly what he thinks the dress makes you look like.
your cheeks burn and you're sure he can tell when you feel a very hard evidence of how that dress makes him feel.
"this is all for you, love. don't go shy on me now."
lando makes sure to keep an eye out because he knows you are chronically online when you want to be and salty people hiding behind their screens aren't exactly kind.
the minute he comes home and sees you slumped on the couch with your phone in your hand, he is snatching it away.
"babe I'm starving so I think we should cook together."
drags you across the room till you're sitting on a chair while he cooks, keeping you engaged in whatever gossip he gets from the paddock.
you get distracted for a bit and with a smile, lando is leaning against the counter and gently pressing his lips against yours.
hours later, when you both are fed and happily in love, he is again getting on his knees to show him just how much he appreciates your pretty curves.
the world is loud but all you can hear is his voice, he makes sure you know it's the only one that is valid.
it gets easier because he is able to love you at times it's hard to love yourself.
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desperate-gay · 3 days
Text
Actions Have Consequences
Ingrid Engen x fem!reader
SMUT +18 (kinda)
a/n: honestly i was too lazy to write full smut and i don’t really like this but i wanted to finally update soo
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“Ingrid, please, I didn’t know he was flirting with me.” You plead as you both walk through the front door of your apartment.
“Right, like you didn’t giggle or bat your eyelashes at the scumbag either.” The girl scoffs, slamming her purse onto the counter before making her way over and onto the couch.
You watch as your girlfriend rests her hands over her face with a loud sigh, showing her displeasure with your so-called actions. You truly didn’t flirt with the man. He was a sweet guy just wanting a good conversation to unwind after his job. Besides, it was only a quick chat. It’s not like you were fully engaging, he was just by the bar while you grabbed the drinks for you and Ingrid, so you began to have a bit of small talk with eventually caught the eye of your girlfriend.
The norwegian hasn’t bothered changing, instead, she remains on the couch with her black jumpsuit, an outfit you really admire on her. You nervously pick at your nails while slowly making your way over to your girlfriend.
“Please look at me.”
Her green eyes remain glaring at the black television in front of her, directly behind you. You decide to take a seat next to her and repeat your request. When she continues staring away, your soft hand gently touches the skin of her cheek and turns her attention towards you.
“It’s not at all what you think.” You say gently, trying to be careful with your words.
“Yeah right.” She scoffs, moving her head out of your hand to look the opposite way.
Sighing, you stand up but instead of leaving, you straddle her lap and place your arms on her shoulders. Although that still doesn’t get her attention, you begin to place soft kisses on the pale skin of her neck.
“I can make it up to you.” You suggest, continuing your trail of kisses on top of letting your right hand drift down between her thighs.
Ingrid’s hand quickly snatches your wrist from moving any further while her gaze is finally on you. You move out of her neck, stopping your previous actions, and lock eyes with her fiery gaze.
“If you want to make it up to me so bad, let me treat you and show you how much of a filthy slut you really are.” The brunette rasps, yanking your wrist toward her which makes your whole body follow suit.
Her free hand latches behind your neck, forcing your lips to crash into hers in a demanding kiss. You gasp against her mouth in surprise but quickly melt at her rough demeanor. The norwegian pulls back, moving her hand onto your throat, gripping it with a certain tightness you like.
“Lay down.”
Although you heard her, you sit there like a deer in headlights, causing her to stand up with you wrapped around her and toss you onto the couch.
“When I tell you to do something, you listen. Got it?” Ingrid asks in a stern yet warning tone.
When you nod your head, Ingrid hovers over you with her knee between your legs, just barely touching where you need her most. Her hair curtains around your face while she stares at you, running through ideas of what to do to you. Feeling her breath fan across your face makes you lean up to try to kiss the brunette, but the girl pulls back, preventing your lips from touching.
“I’m going to teach you that you are mine and only mine.” Ingrid trails the tips of her fingers from your hair, down to your cheek, and onto your lips. Her middle and index fingers begin to dig in between your lips, signaling you to do what she wants you to.
You obediently open your mouth wide, allowing her two digits to sink deep into your throat while your tongue swirls them and your head bobs up and down. Your eyes remain on the green ones above you as you continue your sensual movements, hallowing your cheeks to tighten around her digits.
After a few minutes, Ingrid softly removes her fingers from between your lips and without warning, dips into your pants and underwear to start making soft circles around your clit.
You roll your hips against her hand and let out a soft moan. When she notices you grinding into her, she stops her movements, making you whine in annoyance.
“You stay still. I get to go at my pace and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Although you want to object, you decide to stay silent in hopes of not making her more frustrated than she already is. She removes her hand from between your legs to grab the waistband of your pants. With a small tug, you take the hint and lift your hips to make it easier for them to slip off.
Ingrid discards your pants to the side but ultimately decides to keep everything else you’re wearing on, which is just a cropped tank top and panties.
“I can see how wet you are just from these.”
Her hand rubs over your clothed core, causing you to shudder in anticipation.
The brunette returns to her spot hovering over you and reaches her hand under the elastic of your underwear. She sucks along your neck while she reaches lower to gather all your wetness and spread it as much as she can.
Your breath picks up and small moans break out from your mouth when she touches certain spots. Ingrid kisses all the way up to your ear lobe, tugging it between her teeth.
“If only you were good today.” The two fingers that were beginning to push into you are gone in the blink of an eye, causing your eyes to snap open in shock.
Ingrid stands up, sucking your mess off her fingers, and walks away towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. You lay there in disbelief with an uncomfortable wetness remaining between your legs as you watch your girlfriend sip from the bottled water.
“Maybe if you’re lucky, we can fix that problem of yours tomorrow. I’m quite tired all of a sudden.”
Without another word, she walks into the bedroom to change and get ready for bed, leaving you in your sticky situation alone.
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mcrdvcks · 1 day
Text
had this idea about a possessive!reader and logan because i feel it's not done nearly enough
warnings/tags: mentions of lipstick and hickeys, gn!reader
---
It started out simply. You realized you couldn’t give Logan a hickey like he could you. You would sit in his lap, sucking various spots on his neck, only for the bruise to fade within seconds.
So, you came up with another way to show others that he was yours, kissing his neck with your lipstick on in the mornings. The first time you did it, he didn’t even know. The flannel he wore didn’t cover up the pink lip mark on the side of his neck, and it was only until Scott hid back a chuckle that he went to check himself in the mirror.
But he didn’t stop you. In fact, sometimes you left more than one colored kiss, on both sides of his neck, the front of his throat, on his chest above his beater where his fuzzy hair peaked out.
Then you upped the ante. You gave him a string bracelet with your initials on it. He kept it on his wrist, and whenever another woman—or man—gave him a second look when you were out, you didn’t even have to say anything. You’d casually grab his arm, tug his sleeve up, and flash them the bracelet. Logan would just smirk, not saying a word, but the message was clear: he was yours.
At first, Logan thought it was funny. You, marking your territory in these subtle ways. He'd smirk every time you'd tug his arm up, making a point to show the bracelet to anyone who dared give him a second glance.
But then, he started to enjoy it more than he’d care to admit. The little things—your lipstick marks on his skin, the bracelet on his wrist—felt grounding. They were soft, easy reminders of the fact that he was yours, and you were his.
It wasn’t just about possession, though. It was about the warmth it gave him, the way you claimed him without making a big deal about it. It became part of the routine. He’d wake up, stretch, and by the time he was pulling on his shirt, you were already in front of him, lips painted a fresh shade of red or pink. He’d tilt his head, giving you full access to leave your mark on his neck, and sometimes, if you were feeling playful, you’d press one right over his heart.
“Damn, you really wanna broadcast it today, huh?” he’d joke, but the truth was, he loved it.
You’d grin and shrug, saying something like, “Just making sure they know.”
He didn’t mind. Hell, he found himself looking forward to those moments. It wasn’t just the way you made it clear to everyone else, but the way it felt. Having you leave those small touches on him, like some secret code only the two of you understood.
Logan wasn’t a man of words. He’d always been more action than talk, but with you, it was easy to show affection in a way that didn’t feel foreign to him. The way you’d hold onto his arm, showing off the bracelet like it was the most natural thing in the world, sent a surge of warmth through him. You didn’t need to shout your claim from the rooftops, but it was there, clear as day.
And honestly? He liked that. Liked knowing that he was the one you were holding onto, that he was yours.
One night, after you’d left another set of lipstick marks on him before a mission, Logan caught himself staring in the mirror a little longer than usual. There they were, bright and bold, like a damn signature. He couldn’t help but smirk.
You wandered into the room, already pulling on your jacket. “Ready?”
He turned to face you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think you missed a spot.”
Your eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh yeah? Where?”
He stepped closer, tapping a finger against his throat. “Right here. Could use another one for good luck.”
You laughed, shaking your head, but you didn’t hesitate. Stepping up, you pressed your lips to his skin again, leaving a fresh print. He hummed, low and satisfied, before pulling you into a kiss that was a little too heated for a mission.
“Guess I’ll have to mark you next,” he muttered against your lips, voice rough, a hint of promise in his tone.
“Maybe,” you teased, pulling away, “but for now, this’ll do.”
As the two of you walked out the door, his hand on the small of your back, Logan couldn’t help but feel content. He wasn’t a man who needed much, but with you, these little moments were everything.
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reasonsforhope · 19 hours
Text
"For the first time in decades, public health data shows a sudden and hopeful drop in drug overdose deaths across the U.S.
"This is exciting," said Dr. Nora Volkow, head of the National Institute On Drug Abuse [NIDA], the federal laboratory charged with studying addiction. "This looks real. This looks very, very real."
National surveys compiled by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention already show an unprecedented decline in drug deaths of roughly 10.6 percent. That's a huge reversal from recent years when fatal overdoses regularly increased by double-digit percentages.
Some researchers believe the data will show an even larger decline in drug deaths when federal surveys are updated to reflect improvements being seen at the state level, especially in the eastern U.S.
"In the states that have the most rapid data collection systems, we’re seeing declines of twenty percent, thirty percent," said Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta, an expert on street drugs at the University of North Carolina.
According to Dasgupta's analysis, which has sparked discussion among addiction and drug policy experts, the drop in state-level mortality numbers corresponds with similar steep declines in emergency room visits linked to overdoses.
Dasgupta was one of the first researchers to detect the trend. He believes the national decline in street drug deaths is now at least 15 percent and could mean as many as 20,000 fewer fatalities per year.
"Today, I have so much hope"
After years of wrenching drug deaths that seemed all but unstoppable, some researchers, front-line addiction workers, members of law enforcement, and people using street drugs voiced caution about the apparent trend.
Roughly 100,000 deaths are still occurring per year. Street drug cocktails including fentanyl, methamphetamines, xylazine and other synthetic chemicals are more poisonous than ever.
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"I think we have to be careful when we get optimistic and see a slight drop in overdose deaths," said Dan Salter, who heads a federal drug interdiction program in the Atlanta-Carolinas region. "The last thing we want to do is spike the ball."
But most public health experts and some people living with addiction told NPR they believe catastrophic increases in drug deaths, which began in 2019, have ended, at least for now. Many said a widespread, meaningful shift appears underway.
"Some of us have learned to deal with the overdoses a lot better," said Kevin Donaldson, who uses fentanyl and xylazine on the street in Burlington, Vermont.
According to Donaldson, many people using fentanyl now carry naloxone, a medication that reverses most opioid overdoses. He said his friends also use street drugs with others nearby, ready to offer aid and support when overdoses occur.
He believes these changes - a response to the increasingly toxic street drug supply - mean more people like himself are surviving.
"For a while we were hearing about [drug deaths] every other day. When was the last one we heard about? Maybe two weeks ago? That's pretty few and far between," he said.
His experience is reflected in data from the Vermont Department of Health, which shows a 22 percent decline in drug deaths in 2024.
"The trends are definitely positive," said Dr. Keith Humphreys, a nationally respected drug policy researcher at Stanford University. "This is going to be the best year we've had since all of this started."
"A year ago when overdose deaths continued to rise, I was really struggling with hope," said Brad Finegood, who directs the overdose crisis response in Seattle.
Deaths in King County, Washington, linked to all drugs have dropped by 15 percent in the first half of 2024. Fatal overdoses caused by street fentanyl have dropped by 20 percent.
"Today, I have so much hope," Finegood said.
-via NPR, September 18, 2024. Article continues below with an exploration of the whys (mostly unknown) and some absolutely fucking incredible statistics.
Why the sudden and hopeful shift? Most experts say it's a mystery
While many people offered theories about why the drop in deaths is happening at unprecedented speed, most experts agreed that the data doesn't yet provide clear answers.
Some pointed to rapid improvements in the availability and affordability of medical treatments for fentanyl addiction. "Expansion of naloxone and medications for opioid use disorder — these strategies worked," said Dr. Volkow at NIDA.
"We've almost tripled the amount of naloxone out in the community," said Finegood. He noted that one survey in the Seattle area found 85 percent of high-risk drug users now carry the overdose-reversal medication.
Dr. Rahul Gupta, the White House drug czar, said the drop in drug deaths shows a path forward.
"This is the largest decrease on record and the fifth consecutive month of recorded decreases," he said.
Gupta called for more funding for addiction treatment and healthcare services, especially in Black and Native American communities where overdose deaths remain catastrophically high.
"There is no way we're going to beat this epidemic by not focusing on communities that are often marginalized, underserved and communities of color," Gupta said.
"Overdose deaths in Ohio are down 31 percent"
Indeed, in many states in the eastern and central U.S. where improvements are largest, the sudden drop in drug deaths stunned some observers who lived through the darkest days of the fentanyl overdose crisis.
"This year overdose deaths [in Ohio] are down 31 percent," said Dennis Couchon, a harm reduction activist. "The deaths were just plummeting. The data has never moved like this."
"While the mortality data for 2024 is incomplete and subject to change, Ohio is now in the ninth consecutive month of a historic and unexpected drop in overdose deaths," said the organization Harm Reduction Ohio in a statement.
Missouri is seeing a similar trend that appears to be accelerating. After dropping by 10 percent last year, preliminary data shows drug deaths in the state have now fallen roughly 34 percent in the second quarter of 2024.
"It absolutely seems things are going in the right direction, and it's something we should feel pleased about," said Dr. Rachel Winograd, director of addiction science at the University of Missouri St. Louis, who also noted that drug deaths remain too high.
"It feels wonderful and great," said Dr. Mark Levine, head of the Vermont Health Department. "We need encouraging data like this and it will help sustain all of us who are actively involved in trying to have an impact here."
Levine, too, said there's still "plenty of work left to do."" ...
Dasgupta, the researcher at the University of North Carolina, agreed more needs to be done to help people in addiction recover when they're ready.
But he said keeping more people alive is a crucial first step that seemed impossible only a year ago.
"A fifteen or twenty percent [drop in deaths] is a really big number, an enormous impact," he said, calling for more research to determine how to keep the trend going.
"If interventions are what's driving this decline, then let's double down on those interventions."
-article via NPR, September 18, 2024
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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days
Text
Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)
minors dni
Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.
tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex
You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.
"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!" 
You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.
Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.
Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.
And isn’t that just. . . adorable?
The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery. 
Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun
"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"
You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"
"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”
“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.
“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?
Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"
Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”
He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”
Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.
He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.
You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”
Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.
Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"
Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.
You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.
He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.
Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.
“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”
You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.
“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”
“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”
“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.
You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“
Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”
You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.
“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.
Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.
Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.
“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.
“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”
He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.
“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”
You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.
“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”
You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.
“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”
You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.
Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”
His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.
His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”
Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”
He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”
You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”
“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”
You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“
He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”
You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”
“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”
Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.
Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”
You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.
Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”
You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.
Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”
You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”
He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”
You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.
Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”
You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.
Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.
You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“
“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”
Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”
You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.
After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.
His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”
His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.
“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”
You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.
But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.
“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”
You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.
Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.
He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”
265 notes · View notes
jo-speaks · 2 days
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good graces ft. quinn hughes
in which…
quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.
warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.
track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!
When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel
Drawin' hearts 'round our names
And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles
“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.
You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?
He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”
“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”
Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 
After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.
He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”
You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”
Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”
“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.
Don't mistake my nice for naive
“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.
You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”
He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”
“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.
“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.
You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 
You weren’t stupid.
I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys
You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye
Like, ooh
Baby, you say you really like it being mine?
So let me give you some advice
After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.
“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 
Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”
You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”
He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”
Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”
You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”
Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”
“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”
“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.
As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.
“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.
You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.
Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”
You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.
~
“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”
“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.
Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.
You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”
He nodded.
“Then don’t lie to me.”
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
That was cool
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3
Yeah
“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 
“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.
Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 
Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 
He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 
As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 
“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 
Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 
Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 
You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”
His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 
“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 
By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”
I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely
Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 
“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.
He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.
This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.
“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.
You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”
He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”
Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on
With your favorite athlete
Shoot his shot every night
Want you every second, don't need other guys
You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 
Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 
One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 
‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’
“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.
He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”
“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.
Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”
You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.
“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.
His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”
Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 
Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 
You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”
You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 
“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”
You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye
As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.
“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.
He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”
You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 
Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”
You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.
Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.
“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.
You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 
He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”
“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.
But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”
Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.
“And what?” You pressed.
“She wants to try again.”
You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”
He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.
You nodded your head, “Okay.”
“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.
Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.
“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
Oh, no
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 
Oh
No, I won't
I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't
(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2
Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 
The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 
You didn’t need him. 
Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 
The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 
As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.
Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.
192 notes · View notes
luveline · 13 hours
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hello lovely angel!! humbly requesting zombie!steve au, perhaps more of jealous steve? i love their dynamic so much💗 maybe someone is flirting with reader, and enter protective steve:)
thanks for requesting! fem, 2k
You tend to think of it in two weird halves. You love Steve, and you never would’ve known that without the end of the world, so things are okay. Sometimes you wonder if he ever could’ve loved you if he hadn’t been so close to you for so long, but he loves you in this insane capacity of softness that says otherwise. Like, soulmate style. 
It didn’t begin that way. Steve your reluctant guide, and you his unlikely saviour. You’d stopped him from dying at the very start of it all and he couldn’t leave you behind. And Steve, he’d been mean to you. He didn’t want to take care of you initially, but you’d grown to get along. You’d argue black and blue and he’d still rub your back at night. 
There are so many moments you’ve shared that make what you have all the more special. A hundred different memories from before you’d ever kissed. You think about it now, watching him across the firepit as he shows a young girl, Cassandra, how to braid her hair. 
The one that’s sticking today is when Steve got really bad food poisoning for the first time. When you’d known you were in love with him for a while, and when he’d stopped pretending he didn’t know. He’d been sick everywhere, on both your shoes, and you’d rubbed his back through everything.  
It was nice to take care of him. Nicer that night when you’d shared a bed and he’d hugged you half to death. 
He has no idea how much he means to you, or how much those moments with him kept you going when you were all alone. You’re lucky now to have found community, but those stolen hours in bed with him hugging him and getting to be his support, you wouldn’t have made it here without them. 
“Hey.” 
You look up as a man sits down. A boy, a man —what do you call twenty somethings? You don’t feel like a woman most of the time, but you are. 
“Hi,” you say. 
“I’m Jamison.” 
“You’re Eddie’s friend, right?” 
“Who, Munson?” Jamison makes a kidding face, a disgusted scrunch of his eyebrows that falls away to more friendly fondness. “Yeah, we go back. You’re Eddie’s friend too, right? I saw you guys taking out some laundry a few days ago.” 
Jamison is handsome. He has tan skin, short hair, and a crooked nose. His smile is disarming. If you hadn’t fallen in love with the handsomest guy around, you might feel nervous under his gaze. 
Time spent ugly under Steve’s reverent handling makes you confident. You genuinely feel prettier knowing Steve loves you, and it makes it easier to be yourself with strangers. 
“Eddie’s awesome,” you say easily. “I thought he was gonna kill me when we first met, but he’s too nice.” 
“Nice, really?” 
Jamison is casual, as people go. You wonder what his motivations are for talking to you at first, but as conversation stretches, littered with the cracking pops of the fireplace and brief pauses of surprisingly comfortable silence, you realise he’s just talking. Maybe he’s lonely. You know how that feels. 
He tells you that he and Eddie had been in a rock band together before the apocalypse. You’d known to some extent that Eddie was in a band, but Jamison tells you all the details you’d been missing. They were called Corroded Coffin, four members, Eddie played guitar and Jamison thought he was pretty fucking good at it, actually. 
“I don’t think we would’ve been, like, Metallica. But we could’ve been good. We were gonna make a record.” 
You smoke sympathetically. “I bet you could’ve been.” 
“What were you doing? Before all this?” 
“I honestly barely remember,” you say quietly. Your life before Steve is a blur, and it’s painful, too. “Things are harder now, I know that. I wish every day that we could go back to how things were, you know, I miss TV and grocery stores and my family.” You lick your lips. “I wish things were different, but somehow, I think I like my life now. I have stuff to do. Is that crazy?” 
“It’s not crazy. Everything fucking sucks,” —you both laugh— “but that’s not crazy. I’m lucky, I still have my dad, and my friends. There’s purpose in being here.” 
You nod emphatically, just once. “Exactly.” 
You have purpose, now. You get to be a friend, a girlfriend, a confidente. You take care of people. 
It all comes back to Steve, at the end of the day. Would you change the world if it meant never having met him? 
Nope. 
You glance across the fire for him, but he’s not there. 
You put your arm behind your back and bend, looking for him. 
“Looking for someone?” Jamison asks. 
You deflate with relief when you spot him standing near the gaggle of tents about fifty feet away. He’s looking at you from over Robin’s shoulder. You wave, and he waves back with a big smile. 
Something seems a little wrong. 
“Steve,” you explain. 
“He’s your boyfriend, yeah? Eddie told me you’ve been together since the start.” 
You don’t bother correcting him. He might not mean together as how you’re thinking it. “Yeah, that’s him. Have you met him?” 
“Kind of. We all thought he was a huge dick, back then.” 
“He sort of was,” you say. “I mean, we all had our own stuff going on. I get that I’m biased, but he’s my favourite person I’ve ever met. He’s so kind, I don’t think I could describe it to you or anyone just how much he cares about people. I wouldn’t be here without him, and… I don’t know, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if you ever wanted to meet him again, he’s amazing. He’s a great friend. He’s so fucking funny, he makes me laugh every day.” 
“He’s sort of giving me the stink eye,” Jamison says. 
You wave your hand weakly. “He has raging jealousy issues.” 
“Shit, am I getting you in trouble?” 
“No, never!” you say, tempted to laugh. “He doesn’t get mad at me for stuff like that. He’s normal, I promise. Just sensitive.”
You tell Jamison that it was nice talking to him because it really was, but you’ve been missing Steve for hours already and you need to get back to him before you go totally bonkers. 
He’s sitting on the floor in the tent. The weather has been beautiful lately, you could sleep under the stars if you weren’t scared of being zombie charcuterie. Steve has stripped down to just his jeans and socks, no t-shirt or shoes to be seen. He has his sketchbook splayed open on his thigh, but he abandons it the moment you kneel down. 
“Hey,” you say. 
Steve folds his book closed, pencil between its pages. “Hi. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” 
You shuffle in to take his hand. Clumsy touches, his fingers warm and a tad clammy between yours. “You told me yesterday that I have a smile like an angel. I know you were kidding, but I still felt it.” 
“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, wrinkling his nose with a smile. “You think every compliment is a joke.” 
“Don’t make me laugh so much, then.” 
He squeezes your fingers gently. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself to Jamison. Just, I knew him already from school. And he did not like me.” 
“That’s okay. He seemed nice, I think you’d get along if you met now.” You kick your shoes off and crawl as close to him as you can get. He looks up at you, but you look down at his lap. “What are you drawing?” 
“I was just trying to touch up that landscape I did of the river,” he says, a sheepishness to him as he opens his sketchbook. 
You read it with affection, trace lines and hatchings in awe. “Steve, I really wish you had time and space to do this stuff properly. Not that you aren’t doing it properly, just, I know you could make something just as beautiful as this with paint.” You slide to be sitting properly, putting you both at the same height, so you can meet his eyes as you continue. “Did you know what you wanted to do, when you were finishing school? Did you ever think about art?” 
“I thought about it.” His lips quirk. “Mostly about how my dad would’ve kicked me out if I said something that stupid.” 
“It’s not stupid.” 
“I know.” 
That would’ve been a nice life. You and Steve living together, with a basement for his paintings, or a garage turned studio. You’d read books together every night like you do now, and you’d scrub paint smudges off of his cheek. 
You love him so much it must give you an aura. 
“I’ve got nothing to worry about, huh?” he asks softly. 
You drift in, tipping your head back for a kiss you don’t take. “I don’t know, Steve, Jamison used to be in a rock band.” 
He scoffs in disgust. You think it might be a mixture of anger at Jamison and himself. “Who wants to date a rockstar?” 
“I might’ve.” 
You’re teasing, of course, smiling as your kiss draws nearer, and nearer. 
“Well, I can be a rockstar,” he says quietly, warmth of his breath on your lips. “Just give me a chance to get there.” 
You brush the tip of your nose against his and hold your breath. “That’s okay,” you say, letting it rush out of you in a huff, your excitement to be kissed too much to bear, “I like my guys all mixed up. Preferably good at track, and swimming, but with a soft side. Kind of guy who fills a sketchbook up with my face.” 
Steve lists to the side. Your lips are so close, you can feel the phantom of them against yours as he moves in. “It’s not just your face… it’s your hands, your arms… your everything–”
He cuts his own explanation off with a soft kiss. That softness swiftly hardens, turns rough, ten long seconds of sweetness before his hands coming up behind your head and he’s pressing inward, deepening the kiss, and giving you little room to breathe. 
You have no intention of dating any rockstars, but his jealous streak has nothing but upsides for you. Steve knows that his jealousy over the innocuous is his own problem, his own insecurity that he’s working on, and while you sympathise with him (after all, haven’t you yourself worried he’d find someone else he liked more?), you have to confess to enjoying the edge to his kissing. 
You make a pleased, humoured sound as he breathes you in like you’re a drug he’s been waiting for. He gets sloppier, and you can’t help pulling away to laugh. 
“What?” he asks, thumbing at your cheek in a soft juxtaposition. “Sorry, am I being a dick?” 
“No, it’s fine. Kiss me how you want to.” 
Steve kisses your cheek softly. “He knows you have a boyfriend, right?” 
“He knows.” 
Steve hums like he’s smiling and nudges your nose with his, until you part your lips, and he wades in for another dose. 
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keyotosprompts · 1 day
Text
the look of love ೀ
how to describe a loving gaze
⇸ eyes darting all over your face, trying to figure out which part of you they want to set their eyes on the most (it's impossible)
⇸ gazing at you like you're miles away only when you're a few feet away, standing with another person. their stare is hard, intense, but also melting and blank.
⇸ a featherlight touch to your arm with their eyes softly peering up at you. they can't believe that you're allowing them to touch you like this—so innocent, so softly.
⇸ late nights where its just the two of you in a car. they turn over to look at you but immediately turn. for the safety of the both of you, they can't stare at you any longer
⇸ when you're teasing them, they have to bite down extra hard to not release that smile from their lips. their eyes are squinted more tightly than usual. still, they're glued onto you.
⇸ meeting their eyes from across the room, and the two of you have the exact same thought. you turn away first to hold back your laughter, but their eyes are pinned onto you.
⇸ a softened gaze in a random moment. there's no reason for them to be looking at you like that—with slightly hooded eyes and parted lips—except for the fact that they just love seeing you
⇸ you're twirling around in your new outfit, showing the 360 angle. their pupils look like they're completely taking over the iris of their eye. suddenly, breathing becomes a lot more faster than they remember.
⇸ tears run like thrashing rivers on your face, dripping onto your pants and soaking the sleeves of your shirt. but they don't care. even when wiping your tears, they still can't get over how you look absolutely angelic like this.
⇸ eyeing you in the middle of the night, feeling incredibly lucky that they are the only one who can look at you in this state. a smile dawns upon their face as they trace the shape of your jaw, press their fingers in your cheekbones, and kiss you on the cheek.
⇸ a make-out session that seems like it will never stop until they pull away, and the reason being, "i needed to look at you like this," with swollen lips and a red flush.
⇸ laughter dying down into silence. looking at each other and bursting into laughter again.
⇸ being completely bare in front of each other after a long night. shameless admiration where their eyes move up and down your face and body. there's a mix of lust and adoration in their eyes.
⇸ watching you storm off, and all they can do is stand their, focused on your fleeting figure. their face is contorted—not in an angry way—but a look of concern flashes across their features. did they just lose the one they loved the most?
⇸ getting food with the other person and realizing that this is all it takes for you to be content. this is what happiness feels like, you think.
⇸ a gripping hug that makes you feel so seen. that one second during the embrace where you two both look at each other, and time stands still. you want to frame the expression on the other person's face.
⇸ seeing you, and a beaming smile immediately breaks out of their face.
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minhosimthings · 2 days
Text
Bewitched ft LHS
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Two lovers and the adventure of dried lilac
Pairing: bf!heeseung × fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, mention of food and bacterial infection (don't question it), kinda cringy ig? hee being down BAD for reader
Song: Bewitched by Laufey
A/N: Hello everyone! This is my submission for @flwrstqr My World event. Congratulations to Danielle for 3k followers! Now sit back, relax, and read my cringey poetry.
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I didn't know that much at all 'bout love before
But now, I think I'm learning
"Are you absolutely sure this will work?" Heeseung eyed you nervously.
You were trying to figure out how to stab open the extremely restrictive packaging of the box of dried lilac flowers, so without even looking up at him, you scoffed, as if you were offended that he was trying to undermine your amazing box-opening skills. 
 "Of course it will." You stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Plus, I did a lot of research for this."
"By research you mean the first three search results you got?" Heeseung chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. You shuddered at the cold touch of his skin on yours. 
"Be careful,Lee Heeseung, I have a weapon in my vicinity." You threatened him, waving around the dying scissors in your hands. The countertop was littered with scraps of cardboard and a crumpled up bill. The dried lilacs from Japan took three weeks to arrive and boy were you excited when it came. You almost hugged the poor delivery boy with how giddy you were. 
Your monthly tradition of doing something new with Heeseung was today and you were determined not to mess it up. Ever since the tradition started, something or the other has gone down the gutter. Like last August, when you had booked a seat for bungee jumping, which had to be cancelled due to heavy rains. Or the February of the year passed, when you wanted to make a bundt cake with him, which unfortunately never came out of the pan due to the absence of butter. 
But this time was different, you thought. This time, nothing could go wrong. After all, how can making lilac tea out of scratch ever go wrong in any possible way? There was no butter and no rain, except for the slight drizzle outside, which announced the end of the monsoon season and the start of September.
You bewitched me
From the first time that you kissed me
"Finally..." You muttered under your breath, as your hands reached for the flowers. They were tiny little buds packaged in an airtight ziplock packet. The colour was less lilac-y now, with hues of dark purple staring at you and Heeseung.
"Is it supposed to look rotten?" Heeseung asked, his eyes set on the packet that you were toying with possessively in your hands. You rolled your eyes at him playfully, and let out a dramatic sigh.
“How many times must I tell you-” You started dramatically, turning your body to face him, you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “-that cooking is the art of turning a duck into a swan?”
“Calm down Shakespeare.” heeseung chuckled, his fingers teasing you by drawing shapes on your waist, “And ducks are really cute for your information!” He put his hand to his chest as if he were clutching his invisible string of pearls. A giggle erupted out of your mouth as you stood on your tiptoes to quickly leave a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose. Heeseung’s smile only widened as you did, a slight red mark lingering on the spot where your lips touched his skin. The calm scent of the evening, combined with the quiet of your kitchen sent a wave of absolute relaxation into Heeseung’s being.
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully, your eyes rushing through the words on the lavender-hued instruction manual, “The recipe I saw on the internet said we can just boil them and the tea will just seep out.”
“But?” Heeseung’s chin returned to its rightful place on your shoulder. He was like an overactive cat, which would rub itself against its owner to show its affection.
“But-” you looked worried, much to Heeseung’s concern, “-this thing says we should wait for three goddamn months so there’s no-’ you cleared your throat and read from the manual, “‘threat of bacterial infection.’”
“Ominous.” Heeseung laughed, “I like it.” He smiled at the sight of a pout forming on your pretty lips, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I guess we have to wait then.” You sighed, a real one this time, “I mean, unless you want to get sick.” 
Great, you internally thought, another month gone wrong again. You wondered to yourself whether there will ever be a time when you actually get it right, when something that you and Heeseung do works out without any hiccups.
“Can I tell you something?” Heeseung smirked mischievously, garnering your attention. The pout on your lips melted his heart completely and his eyes visibly softened when he looked at you.
 “I actually like bacterial infection.”
 A moment of silence followed, before the both of you were convulsed with laughter. Your hands gripped the  edge of the counter to balance yourself, when Heeseung stuffed his nose into the nape of your neck, effectively putting half of his weight onto you.
“Hee, I’m gonna fall, get off me!” You laughed, but he only held you closer to him, as if you’d float away if he let go, “Ok, ok fine!” You giggled, raising your hands in mock defeat, “We can make the tea!”
“Yipee.” Heeseung cried in an adorably high pitched voice, that stretched your smile out even wider. If Heeseung were to die because of someone’s expression, then he knew it would be because of your smile. It was something that could make him forget all grief and suffering, no matter if he had the worst day ever, no matter if he had spilled hot coffee all over himself or accidentally snapped at someone, that smile of yours would be there to fix him.
Then we ran down the street in the late London light
The world froze around us, you kissed me good night
“Hee. Hee. Earth to Lee Heeseung.” Your words were half consumed by laughter, bringing him back to reality as he realised he had been staring at your face, “What are you looking at, idiot?”
Heeseung didn’t respond to your words, instead choosing to merely send you a lopsided smile. “Your idiot right?” he asked, to which you put your hands on top of his and squeezed it.
“My idiot.” You said, sacrificing your toes once more, to plant a kiss on his cheek, making Heeseung mentally kick his feet in the air for the fiftieth time that evening.
You set Heeseung about to do some kitchen duties, while you carefully extracted the dried flowers. Heeseung watched the surface of the water dance with the bubbles as it heated up. It reminded him of all the times you two had danced with each other. On particularly long nights, when the moon shone in all its majesty, bathing lovers all around the globe in her glamorous shine, both of you would find your hiding places in each other. Both of you would find your home, in each other, with arms wrapped not only around each other’s body, but around each other’s hearts.
“Is the water ready?” Heeseung heard you call out. He turned to see you, carefully sweeping the last of the petals into a bowl. 
“Yes, your highness.” He responded with a laugh. You tottled over to the pot of boiling water, slowly dropping your flowers in. You and Heeseung let out a collective gasp of wonder at the burst of colour that engulfed the colourless water. Hues of purple and lavender now coated each part of the pot, seeping out from the petals. 
“Woah…” You exhaled, not even knowing you had been keeping a breath in, “That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 
“It is.” Heeseung responded, to which you nodded, not taking your eyes away from the concoction. Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung was no longer even looking at the water. He was instead, gazing lovingly at you, with eyes so full of affection, you’d think he was looking at the last person on earth. In that moment of silence, he couldn’t help but trace his eyes over you, over every detail of yours that made you, you. The you that he loved so much. The you that he would go to the ends of the universe for, if you had asked him to.
Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying
'Cause I think I'm falling
“This better be the most amazing thing that I’ve ever tasted or I’m never even touching a satchet of tea again.” You said, sinking down onto your sofa, with a mug of pinkish-tea in your hand. The sofa sank down further when Heeseung plopped down next to you, an identical mug in his hands.
“Shall we have a toast then?” Heeseung asked, raising his mug, “To hopefully not catching bacterial infection!” You chortled at his enthusiasm, before responding with a “Hear, hear!”
Clinking your mugs together in a ‘cheers’, you put your lips to the edge of the mug, wholly prepared to take a sip of your concoction and taste something that is equal to the nectar of the-
“We forgot the sugar, didn't we.”
You caught Heeseung’s eye and doubled over with laughter, almost spilling some of the tea onto your lap. In the midst of you admiring the pretty liquid, and Heeseung admiring the pretty you, you had forgotten the key ingredient which actually made the tea drinkable.
“Well, you kept distracting me with your beauty so much!” Heeseung defended himself, setting his mug down on the table, “How could I ever remember the sugar?”
“Do you really think flirting is gonna get you out of this?” You said, putting your mug down and glaring playfully at Heeseung.
“Depends.” He shrugged his shoulders, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Is it working?” He didn’t have time to say anything else, before he was practically tackled onto his back by you. Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist and you lay down on him, using him as your mattress, though there was plenty of space for the both of you on the sofa. 
“Welp,” You said, pressing your ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat, “At least we won’t be getting a bacterial infection anytime soon.”
Heeseung chuckled, bringing his lips down to your forehead to leave a kiss. In the sanctuary of his safe arms, you forgot all about the fact that tonight’s attempt had turned out to be an utter fail. But you realised that it didn’t matter to you anymore. For in the warm cocoon that Heeseung had spun around you, all that mattered was the unnoticeable seconds that had drifted away in failed attempts of lilac tea, and successful attempts of love. In the pale cast of the full moon’s light, you and Heeseung drifted off to sleep, as the world came to a silent halt, waiting patiently for another tomorrow. 
You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart
And bewitched me
You bewitched me
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Dividers by @strangergraphics
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