#been debating whether to post this for a while. fuck it.

[atomic-sludge]

On the one hand, I can understand why they didnt do anything more with the implication that Dan and Elise share a grandmother (it would retroactively make anything dan/elise ship related kinda weird) but on the other hand, can you imagine how fucking funny that dynamic would be if explored?

[wall-e-gorl]

hellooooo ive made a uc fankid oc <3 more about her under the cut, so that this post isnt a mile long <3

her name is Dyllin, because i had to, and shes SO cute. Shes got a little lopsided grin, and one dimple, and the cutest smattering of freckles on her nose right where her fur starts to turn pink. Both Rian and Atty are trans, so they raised her gender neutrally until she could tell them who she was herself (thus atty using they for her in that one art), and when she was about 3 she said she was a girl and now she wears all the pretty flowy dresses she can get her hands on (uncle foq supplies many of them)!

in the art above shes: 14, 16 (colored in), 19? (lines), ambiguous age younger than 3, 5?, and also 5. I think that ill mainly draw her as a little kid or around 14, cause those ages are where more interesting dynamics happen with people. Lots of funny kiddy moments, and growing into your own person moments. Which! is what im about in fankids! beyond just drawing a cute kid and having fun with design (which im also all about but just to give an explaination for why im drawing her at those ages). I dont think i want to go into adult ages for her yet, cause for the moment its about her being a fankid for me.

She takes after Chet and mostly Foq much more in personality than either of her actual parents, so shes a very carefree happy-go-lucky kid. To Rian's absolute horror (see below, for their rage at finding out), Foq flounces his way into being a archfey and becomes her warlock patron when shes a little kid, but its alright Aunt Scenda is her cleric deity so shes got a balance for his chaos! (she doesnt balance shit but it does make rian not kill foq over the pact so! whatever works!)

[altruistic-meme]

do i dare write the post looking at and trying to explain Queen Kristina's behavior? probably. i swear im trying to be less annoying about it but also like. i do what I want.

[giamee]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!

... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.

you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.

it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.

he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.

it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.

your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.

and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.

you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.

he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.

it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.

he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.

hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.

you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.

and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!

if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.

he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.

you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.

once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.

despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.

he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.

it'll help in the exam.

you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.

he'll be damned if you don't get an A.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.

in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.

and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.

and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.

he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.

"it's ok to take a break, honey."

you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.

"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."

you shake your head.

"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"

he feels you nod against his chest.

"ok, then let's do that."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the end - Post-apocalyptic Omegaverse AU

Summary - You missed the end of the world. Fine by you. You thrived in your new surroundings, content to be on your own. Until something happens during your third winter.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. Uh... This came to me in a fever dream. Consider this a prologue. 141 x reader

You think you're pretty lucky all things considered. You had always been self sufficient and your childhood gave you skills you were able to call on after the entire world shat itself. To be honest, you hadn't even noticed the world had completely gone to ruin until you tried to call your pharmacy to refill your heat and scent suppressants.

The line was dead. So you called the grocery store. Dead. The movie theater, the diner, the post office. Dead dead dead. Panic seized you by the throat and you dropped your home phone onto the ground. You splashed cold water onto your face and looked into the mirror with puffy eyes and shaking hands.

What were you going to do? The world couldn't have ended. Right? You should have noticed sooner. "Fuck," you said, pulling on your shoes and grabbed your car keys, you got into your car, "fuck!"

As it turns out, you did in fact miss the ending of the world. You yelled obscenities and banged on your steering wheel. The entire small town you lived near was deserted. Windows were boarded up and cars were parked by the road with tires missing or windows smashed in.

You missed the entire end of the world.

As it turns out, the end of the world wasn't that bad. Nothing really changed. Well besides the rarity of getting your hands on heat suppressants and scent blockers. The first week after you finally got caught up on the whole "the world has ended" thing you raided.

You avoided using your car after you got a mild scare that someone else had been attracted to the noise. Hiding in the very smelly gas station bathroom while you listened to the sound of boots crunching on glass was enough to teach you that lesson.

You tore apart the pharmacy the first week, finding what had to be at least four months worth of scent blockers and nine months of heat suppressants. You took everything you deemed useful and stuffed it into your backpack before hiking back home.

You set up a routine, patrol the forest edge twice a day, care for your garden and check any trap for animals to eat. Self sufficiency had never been such a blessing.

It was the middle of winter three years later when you first saw them.

Men. No, not just men. Alphas. Their scent almost made your knees buckle when you smelt it down wind. For a moment your mind went hazy as their smells flooded your mind until that part of your brain that had been responsible for your survival kicked back in.

Alphas. In your territory. Your territory. It felt like a crime and you felt your inner omegas turmoil. As you watched the four men walk down the road that led into town through your binoculars you debated on what you should do. Run, flee while you are down wind. With shaky hands, whether from the cold or fear you didn't know, you climbed down from the perch you were on and sprinted back home while doing your best to cover your own tracks.

You went in circles, outside in the cold long past when your hands and feet had gone cold. But you were sure they couldn't follow. You were sure they didn't even know you were there.

Three years. You had been off of heat suppressants and scent blockers for years. After a while your heats had stopped coming, whether it was from lack of sleep or stress or some evolutionary thing that happened when no one to mate was around, the bottom line was that you were unprepared.

You boarded up your door and threw water on your fire. You grabbed every blanket in the house and ran into your bedroom. At first you did it for warmth. If you were going to hide you couldn't have fire to give out smoke and you needed to be warm.

Then you continued to mess with the blankets and pillows. You huffed, growing increasingly frustrated at your inability to get it right. You grabbed your laundry and threw it in too, arranged and rearranged until it felt right. It wasn't until you took a step back that you realized what you had done. Something you haven't in years. Before you was a nest. Large enough to fit many in it. Maybe even five. You swallowed hard as your fingers dug into your stomach. It was going to be a long winter.

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[thef1diary]

Do Not Disturb | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max hates your ex, so when the right opportunity falls right into his hands, he takes it. Even when he's fucking you in the hotel room.

Warnings: 18+, cocky Max, reader is a tease, champagne shenanigans, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradative terms (barely but just a warning in case)

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: max & f!reader

Note: another repost because why not

Max loves winning. Especially winning the first place trophy in his racing career-from karting when he was younger to the F1 races. Although, for a while now, he's been happier. Many people think it's because of his two back to back world championships. While that may be true, he has another reason.

You.

You have known Max for a long time, both growing up together because your parents were good friends. From the moment he began his racing career in the smaller karts, you've been there. From hating the sound of the karts passing by, to loving the sound of F1 cars passing by. You didn't really have a choice because Max always wanted you by his side.

The point is, you've known Max long enough to know everything about him. Even his fans know you as his number one supporter. But what no one knew, was that your friendship has changed overtime. You and Max got to experience things that one normally would in a relationship, without actually being in a relationship.

You two were friends with benefits. It began a few years ago, drunken celebrations led to lingering touches which eventually ended in crossing the line of a regular friendship. There were no regrets but you weren't romantically attracted to him and neither was he, so the decision was made to remain as just friends.

Today, Max had won another race. He stood on the top step of the podium, listening to his country's national anthem with a smile on his face. While he was glad to add another trophy to his collection, he was thinking of all the ways he would be celebrating with you later on. Preferably with you underneath him on his bed, naked.

While you saw him smile towards his team, his expression towards you was slightly different. A difference that no one else knew the meaning behind. See the thing is, you might've told him something when he embraced you after getting out of his car. "A little fact, I'm not wearing anything under this dress"

You knew that no one would hear you because they were too busy cheering for the man in front of you. Max was pulled away by others but his gaze was still on you. Now, as he was standing on the podium, he watched you with a look that only meant mischief.

After the podium celebrations ended, Max was taken away for some post-race interviews where the same questions is asked in different ways.

Knowing that it'll take him a while, you returned to your hotel room. Usually you would stay and converse with some other drivers while he was busy, but today was a different story.

The comment you made wasn't a lie, you truly weren't wearing any undergarments under your dress. It was definitely risky, but you knew that it would spark a reaction out of Max. And you were glad that it did.

You debated whether or not you should send Max a text, something for his eyes only, but decided otherwise because you didn't want anyone else to see. Plus, he should be waiting for his reward. Perhaps another time.

After freshening up, you sat on the couch in the main room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, waiting for Max to arrive. However, your eyes widened in surprise when you saw a notification from your ex.

It was a text asking if you could meet him. You were debating on either being nice and meeting him once more for closure, or if you should ignore him. The thing was, you didn't like ending on rough terms. You would hate to be in his spot right now, but considering the things your ex has done, you didn't know what to do.

Before you could reply, the door to your hotel room opened and Max walked in. He was holding his trophy in one hand, and the champagne bottle that he got on the podium in the other hand.

Smiling, you got up and embraced him, "congratulations, champion"

"Don't act like you don't know what you did." He retorted, not hugging you back. "Oh I know exactly what I did." You stepped away from him and your hands travelled down his chest, teasing the edge of the hem of his shirt.

"Got me so hard on the fucking podium. Who knows what people will think?" He let your hands roam around his body, close to where he needs it the most.

"Who cares what they think? You looked so hot covered in champagne"

"Yeah? Let me return the favour" Max tilted his head towards the champagne bottle in his hand.

He placed his trophy on the table to free his hand that was itching to touch you. Wrapping that free hand around your waist, he pulled you against him. Then, tilting your head back, he instructed "open"

You obliged, opening your mouth and waiting for the cool champagne to fill your mouth. He didn't stop even after your mouth was full, letting the excess drip down your chin.

"Swallow" he said, watching closely as you listened. Then, he kissed you, savouring the familiar taste of victory that he worked hard for.

Your hands were still roaming around his body, lifting up his shirt by the hem. Parting away just for a moment to remove his shirt, then his lips were back on yours.

His lips travelled lower to your neck, lapping up the champagne that dripped earlier. His two favourite things combined, your taste mixed with the champagne. His mind was buzzing with all the things he wanted to do to you.

Pouring some more champagne on your throat, his tongue darted out to drink it. "Max" you groaned, liking the sensations but also wanting more.

"Gonna cover you in champagne, baby" he whispered as he continued his ministrations. You made a sound, agreeing to his idea. "Make you all sticky with alcohol then with my cum" he continued, and you really liked that suggestion, "fuck yes please"

"Yeah, you want that?" He asked, bringing his face back up and placing a kiss to your lips. You nodded, "yes please, Max" you replied, breathlessly.

Bringing his beloved champagne bottle up again, he smirked as he slowly poured it down the front of your dress. He watched as the cloth stuck to your body, and he also noticed how your nipples hardened underneath. It was due to the mix of pleasure radiating through your body along with the cold champagne.

"You really aren't wearing anything underneath huh?" He believed you when you said it, but seeing it was another thing. "Why bother when I know you are going to remove it after you win" you found your words and explained your reasoning behind the lack of clothes.

"Fuck baby, you knew I was going to win today?" Max loved how much you believed in him. "Not a single doubt otherwise." This time you claimed his lips with yours.

You supported him like no other. And he was so grateful for that; for you.

Pressing up against his chest, he could feel how soaked your dress was and decided to remove it. Blindly finding the zipper on the back, he tugged it down.

Before he could explore your body using his hands, you pressed one more kiss on his lips before sitting down on your knees. Both of you were now quite impatient, and it was evident in your actions.

Quickly removing his belt and tugging the last layer of clothes down to his knees, you paused for a moment. You placed your hands on his thighs and made eye contact with him, noting how he was already looking down at you. "Want a reward for winning?" You asked rhetorically.

Max nodded, "yes, give me your filthy mouth that loves my cock"

You wrapped your lips around his tip, not taking him any further. You can tell that Max is restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth, and for a brief moment you go deeper but then remove your mouth. "You want my mouth?" You asked, teasingly.

"Fuck yes. I want you" he replies, groaning. You almost break out in a smile but contain yourself, "ask nicely."

Max's glare tells you that if it were up to him, you'd be on all fours with your face pressed in the mattress. But, he also knows that even though you're the one that's on your knees, you have all the power right now.

"Please, I need you so bad. Make me feel good please?" He gave in, listening to you. And man, he definitely felt like a winner when you took almost all of him in one movement.

His hand was resting on your head, tempted to force you to take more. You loved the sounds he was making above you when you would brush against a good spot. You noticed every little movement of his; how his breath would hitch when you moaned, how his abs would tense as if he's trying to hold himself back, and the way he would wrap your hair around his fingers tightly.

Right now, all your focus was on pleasuring Max. After all, he is the winner. And you'd be down on your knees to do this every time he wins, because you love it as much as he does.

Sucking greedily on his cock along with his dirty words made a shiver run down your spine. You two were in for a long night, willing to spend a couple hours in each other's presence.

Max was looking at the way his cock made a bulge in your mouth as you tried taking all of him. You knew you couldn't, but you tested the limits. But, his eyes darted around until he could find your phone since he heard it ringing. It was on the couch that you were sitting on earlier, and the screen was facing up which meant he could see the caller id.

He wanted to make a comment on it especially after knowing that it was your ex calling, but you didn't give him a chance to do so. To bring his focus back to you, you put your hand on top on his that was resting on your head, and urged him to force you deeper.

You both simultaneously let out sounds which drowned out the sound of the incessant ringing, making Max forget about it all.

You knew he was close so you pulled off after deeply sucking him one last time, then replaced your mouth with your hand. "Gonna cover me in your cum?" You asked, looking at him as he figured why you pulled away.

The height of his pleasure almost made him close his eyes but he chose to force them open so he could see how his cum coated your chest.

Once you knew he finished, you removed your hand from him and dragged it through the cum on your chest, coating your finger. Then, knowing that he was watching every move, you cleaned off your finger using your tongue.

"You look so pretty baby" he commented as he helped you stand up.

The thing about Max, is that he would be ready for another round in no time. His stamina and refractory period was unbeatable. "You weren't really nice to me so I don't know if I should fuck you." He told you, holding back a smirk when you pouted. "I know you want to, baby. My pussy's so wet because of you."

"Is it now? Waiting for me to fuck you dumb? That's what you want right?" Max asked as his hand travelled down your body, just barely touching you like you wanted him to.

"Yes, fuck me dumb" you pleaded and he positioned you on the couch to lay on your back. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer.

There was barely any resistance when he slid in you due to your wetness that had dropped down to your thighs. "So perfect for me" Max groaned as he felt you clenching around him, causing his hips to stutter since he already orgasmed once.

Max's hands were on your thighs but he moved one to drag up towards the pool of his cum still resting on your body. He would definitely clean you up later, but right now, seeing you like this did something to him. And he liked it.

His two coated fingers tapped your lips and you opened your mouth, taking them in. Once you sucked them clean, he removed his fingers which was now coated with your saliva, and teased your clit.

You arched your back, feeling every single thrust deep, especially after he easily found the perfect spot and kept a relentless pace. Your hands were balling up in fists, tightly gripping on the sheets.

You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn't hear your phone ringing again, until Max picked it up. "She's too busy being fucked by me" is what you first heard him say to the person on the other side. It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

For some reason, that edged you even closer to your release. "Here, listen to her because you'll never get the chance again." Max told your ex, and held the phone closer to you so the man on the other end could hear your moans only meant for Max.

At the same time, his thrusts became stronger and faster. With that plus his fingers circling your clit caused you to moan Max's name out loud as you came undone.

Your ex heard it all. Max slowed his thrusts but didn't completely stop to prolong your orgasm, and held the phone to his ear again. "Don't you dare think about calling her again." He instructed before hanging up and tossing the phone to the side.

You were all fucked out, just like he wanted, looking up at him with a small smile. Seeing Max's smug expression, you forgot about any embarrassment regarding the fact that your ex heard you moan Max's name.

[peachykindaok]

It’s been awhile….let’s get straight to it. TW; drugs, dark, non-con (duh), Kylar’s really scummy but I like scummy :)

☆ I saw a post on twitter about this guy spreading coke on his gums because he thought it’d make a girl addicted to him and that was very much Kylar coded.

☆ Kylar would definitely drug you at any given chance, snapped or not.

☆ Kylar is the type of guy that convinces you to let him hold your drink at a party after watching you all night so he could stick three roofies in it- just to be ‘safe’. He even helps you try to find the guy who did it the day after with a knowing smile, taking full opportunity to spend more time with you.

☆ Kylar would feed you edibles disguised as a cute treat before class for the hell of it, watching your spaced out expression as he corners your seat by the window and happily gives lazy rubs across your slit while filling out both of your worksheets.

☆ Kylar is thrilled to find that xanax zombies you the fuck out, he himself even a little scared when you completely slump against the bed and debates actually taking you to the hospital…but not before a grope or two just to make sure.

☆ Kylar contemplates some harder material but isn’t looking forward to actually killing you anytime soon(that’s literally the only thing stopping him).

☆ Kylar eventually convinces you to try some stuff that he refuses to say how, when, or where he got it; his eyes watches carefully as you strip it on your tongue and the effects lasts long enough for him to be not so careful with your body as he roughly thrusts inside of you, hunched over with his face smothered in your neck to muffle the soft, huffy sounds that leave his lips.

☆ Kylar sometimes imagines that you know he does these things, a false hope that one day you’d be into his delusional fantasies about just getting blasted and sloppily making out in the middle of the park or something. He jerks off to the thought of it.

☆ Kylar is a literal criminal, he doesn’t care about the consequences of the hundreds of pictures downloaded to his laptop of his multiple findings and ‘experiments’ with you. All types of angles of your body and face, whether you’re completely faded or just nearing so, he just doesn’t care(it’s also good jerk it material when you’re surrounded by too many LI’s for that day).

Bye-☆

[kazzattack]

make-up sex with Dick has been rotting in my mind lately :P

make up sex w/ ex bf!dick grayson… bc if i’ve noticed anything about him? he’s besties with all of his exes. like. every single one of them. he’d try to be particularly close with you because he’s not over you at all. still thinking about you 24/7, still wants to see you, definitely still wants to fuck you, all that good stuff. what’s pissing him off is that you’re sick of him. and because i’m you’re petty, you decide against blocking him just to let him know you’re choosing to see him and ignore him. you read all his stupid ass messages, he can still see your posts, and he knows you’re doing shit to piss him off. because nothing irks his soul more than being ignored, much less ignored by you. luckily enough, nothing’s stopping him from knocking on your door after texting you that he’s “coming back for his hoodie.” because duh, you kept all of those too.

you open the door against your better judgement and it’s obvious he has a few intentions once you get a good look at the flimsy tank top and sweats. “hi,” he smiles to hide the impatience in his voice.

“hi,” you respond with condescension and move to close the door in his face.

“you’re being a dick,” the smile easily fades as he catches the door with a quick hand, “just let me in.”

and against your better judgement, you do.

now he’s snooping around, and quite effectively, finding a way to dig through drawers and piles of clothes even though he’s spotted a hoodie or two out the corner of his eye. come to think of it, he’s interrogating you. asking you about that party from friday, that one guy he saw on your story, anything he can get. hell, he’ll go as far as to flash you a new pair of panties while he’s looking, asking who’re you getting all pretty for? now you’re irritated too, not giving him any of the invasive answers he’s looking for. you two go back and forth for god knows how long, all the way until he’s got you against a wall and muttering fuck you under your breath, followed by a clever remark of I thought you’d never ask.

finally, his hands are back on you. he can finally grab a hold of your face and get his tongue back down your throat after a long ass month of nothing. nothing like you, at least. “you’re such a little shit,” he groans and you laugh at him, letting him wrestle your legs around his torso and carry you to the bed. as if you could have fought against it anyway. he’s depraved of you, already groping your tits and ass after grinding his thigh into your clothed cunt. it’s almost as if he hasn’t fucked since the last time he had you. still feeling a little cruel, you tease, “those other girls just didn’t do it for you, huh?”

“there weren’t any other girls.”

“yeah right,” you force out a giggle to ignore the guilt.

“I’m serious. been waiting on you to cut the bullshit so I could fuck this cunt again.” his hand’s already eased under the waistband of your shorts to circle your clit and you moan right into his ear. “don’t need any other girl when i’ve got a whore right here, just for me, right?”

he sucks a hickey into the underside of your breast before flipping you over, seemingly back to his regular self. you’re easily repositioned face down and ass up, helping him pull your shorts all the way down. fuck, you missed him. the way he palms your ass and forces you against his cock, debating on whether he should really fuck you or just hump you til you’re begging for his cock and he’s coming in his boxers.

“already fucking me back,” he moans from behind you and it’s brought to your attention that you’re the one grinding on his dick through fabric. you can’t bring yourself to be ashamed of it though, keening when the next time you feel him there’s no barrier between you and the tip of his cock is slipping into your pussy. normally he’d be all sensual, rub at your cunt til it’s all messy and leaking before fucking you, but this time around it’s like he has no time for it. he’d rather force the arch in your back further into the mattress and fuck you full, have you whine into the pillows and beg for more of his cum like he knows you want to.

“still want me to get out?” he’s muttering into your ear after pulling your hair, knowing by now you’re too fucked out to give him some smart-ass remark. all you can give him are those whorish moans he hasn’t heard for so long as you cum on his cock for the third time. he’s skipped the theatrics he loves to fuck you deep and give you a good reminder that this is what you broke up with.

[luvjunie]

— when the dam breaks

contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

[20doozers]

★Wet dream★

TW: handjob, whining, whimpering, getting caught masturbating, slight somnophilia, sleepover with bill, dry orgasm, “milking” bill, bath as aftercare, overstimulation, fwb/just friends trope, use of y/n, use of sweetheart, baby, etc.

You were at bill’s place for a sleepover, his parents were out of town and his twin brother Tom was staying at a friends place, meaning you and bill had the house all to yourselves. Candy, movies, snacks, cuddles, etc. the night being filled with giggles and fun, the friendship bond between you two being the only focus of the night besides fun.

Eventually you two winded down, laying in bed and turning on a movie that bill was watching while you laid next to him, slowly falling asleep because you were tired. After you had fallen asleep bill was just admiring you, staring at your sleeping face as you slept peacefully. You were so beautiful. Those lips, those eyes, that skin… gosh, he just wanted to kiss you. But he couldn’t, you two were just friends, nothing more than that, or at least that’s what bill was telling himself.

When he was pulled out of his thoughts he looked down, seeing the tent in his pajama pants along with a small wet splotch of precum due to his lack of boxers beneath his pajamas. Fuck. He sat there silently, debating on whether he should go to the bathroom and quickly get rid of the problem.. but oh, you were so peaceful, and getting up would surely wake you.. He sighed, palming himself lightly through his pajama pants, biting his lips to muffle his moans and whimpers as he tried to quietly rub one out.

Yet that stimulation wasn’t enough, not to mention he was basically ruining his pajama pants. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he slowly pulled down his pajama pants just enough to pull out his cock, wrapping his pale fingers around his shaft, slowly pumping himself as he whined and moaned, his noises being muffled slightly as he bit his lip.

He was so close, his moans becoming more guttural as his head rolled back slightly, his moans becoming harder and harder to hold back as he jerked off, his hand and shaft slick with precum as he continued. Yet he was shocked when he felt your hand on his wrist, his movements halting immediately as his head shot in your direction.

You laid there almost half asleep as you pulled his hand away from his cock, wrapping your own hand around his member as you very slowly pumped him.

“Y/n… w- what are you doing..?” Bill whimpered, still trying to hold back his moans.

“You seemed like you could use some help, so I’m helping.” You hummed, acting like this behavior was normal as you jerked him off.

“H-hah.. y/nn.. please.. ‘s too much…” Bill whined, laid on his back as you pumped his cock in your hand, milking him with every amount of strength you had. He had came at least 3? 4? 5? You weren’t keeping count, and neither was he, hell he was unable to with how clouded his mind was. There were drips of drool of his chin, tears clouding his eyes, and his cock was covered in cum, so was your hand as you slowly drove him insane with the overstimulation.

“Shh.. you’re okay baby.. one more, just give me one more sweetheart..” you soothed, your hand nothing speeding up as you pumped his member faster and faster, brushing over the tip of his cock with your thumb.

Bill’s 6th and final orgasm came and went, washing over the poor boy as he let out small cries and moans of ‘ow’ and your name. You slowly worked him through his orgasm, softly shushing him as the afterglow of post nut clarity washed over him. His last orgasm had been completely dry, no cum following his orgasm from how many times he had came, his body now trembling as you got up to go get a washcloth and to clean him up.

“Are you okay sweetheart? Did I go to far?” You questioned soflty, his pale body mostly limp in your arms as he trembled, letting you gently lay him in the bathtub which was filled with warm water. He didn’t respond, just giving a small whimper as he shook his head, still overstimulated from the intensity of it all.

You gently kissed his forehead, combing your fingers through his sweat dampened hair as he lay there trembling in the warm bath water. You sat by his side the entire time, even helping him wash his hair and body due to his weakness before helping him out of the bath, draping a warm fluffy towel over him. You helped him dry off and change into some pajamas before helping him into bed as well.

You gently pulled his still trembling body against yours, shushing him quietly as you rubbed his back, his small whines and whimpers being muffled as he hid his face in the crook of your neck.

“You comfy baby?”

“Y-yeah… just a bit cold..” bill murmured, his body shivering as you kissed his head. You reached off to the side to turn on the heating blanket draped over his bed, turning it on so he could be warmer.

“That better?” You questioned softly, bill murmured a quiet ‘mhm’ before yawning, cuddling further into you as you two laid there.

Maybe you two were more than “just friends”.

AHH! I’m pretty happy with this one, it’s a gn!reader fic and my second smut ive written. Yes I reused the top images i couldn’t find more😔 love you guys💕💕

Tags: @itsmealaiah @madzandmore @cherry-rawr @jkloserdazai @goreishgorinthgoreofshits

[unholybacon355]

Something Domestic

Jihyo x G!P Momo x G!P Tzuyu

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I wrote this long time ago, more than two years ago tbh, and now I'm finally posting it here. And since this story is just pwp I think that's all I have to say this time ahahah So just have fun reading.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Momo suppressed a moan biting her lower lip as hard as she could without actually hurting herself. Jihyo's tongue was wreaking havoc on her back entrance, going as deep as it could go. The pleasure that this caused her only made her cock harder, if that was possible, and she herself began to caress it slowly while she moved her hips a little on the older woman's face. At the other end of the leader's body was Tzuyu with her cock buried to the hilt in Jihyo's pussy. The painting was kind of weird, and one might think awkward, but the girls were having a great time.

Jihyo was lying on the bed, her butt against the edge and her legs wrapped around Tzuyu's hips. While the younger fucked her with all the energy she had, and she licked her lips watching those amazing boobs bounce. On the contrary, Momo was sitting on the leader's face, trying to balance her weight so as not to suffocate her, while she ate her ass as well as she could.

The tongue went so deep that it even penetrated her tight entrance at times, causing the dancer to hold back more moans. She didn't want someone to come into the bedroom early and overhear them by mistake. Though if it were up to her right now he'd be moaning like crazy. Her leader's caresses felt so damn good that she couldn't even explain how she hadn't exploded yet, but she knew she had to save her semen for something special. She wasn't going to forgive her if she wasted it on Jihyo's tits and stomach. She also knew that Tzuyu could still resist for a while, even when the movement of her hips began to become somewhat erratic. The maknae was starting to get tired from the constant pushing and pulling of her cock in the older's perfect body.

"Tzuyu needs to rest." Momo said, moving her butt away from the leader's face. "Let's give her a little break." Then she went to spread the legs wrapped around the youngest’s hips, and so she was finally able to get out of the interior of her leader. Then Momo pressed her cock against the maknae's small but perfect ass and taking her from behind she began to masturbate her slowly. Tzuyu's shaft was considerably thicker than the dancer's and was coated in Jihyo's natural lubricant, making it much easier and hotter to pump such piece of meat. "You've done well, good girl." She whispered in his ear as she lowered her hand squeezing to the base of her throbbing member. A shiver ran through the youngest's body as if she had been about to faint just because of that little praise on her, and really her long legs weakened in a moment. ” Baby, Want to go eat mommy's tits?" The question was asked while the dancer began to grind her hips against the Tzuyut's ass, just to tempt her. They would have time another day to give that beautiful cake the attention that deserves it from her.

Tzuyu swallowed heavily debating in her mind whether she should go please Jihyo, or just bend over and spread her cheeks for Momo to fuck her senseless. Apparently won the first option because she broke free of the dancer's hold and went to suck on the leader's huge tits. Perfect mounds topped with large brown nipples, already quite hard from all the attention she had been receiving. The maknae took one of the large nipples into her mouth with relish while she played with the other using one of her hands.

"Can someone explain to me why my coochie feels so lonely?" Her leader asked running her fingers over the hair covered mound and separating her lips, offering her juicy crotch. Momo was soon on his knees and burying her face between his legs. Immediately Jihyo's powerful thighs wrapped around her head, letting the rest of her legs fall down her back, caressing behind her from time to time with her feet. The leader's glazed tasted exquisite, it was one of the best flavors that Momo had tasted in her life; and it only got better when you mixed it with a little bit of cum. That bitter and musky taste, which in turn had a slightly acid aroma; that all combined was surely identical to what heaven smelled like. She started giving a lick that went all over the slit from bottom to top, filling her senses with the flavor and aroma that she liked so much. Then she continued to make circles with her tongue, moving up little by little until it reached her clitoris and gave it a little suck, not very intense. She ended up eating carelessly all over her making a mess on her face, coating her cheeks with a combination of saliva and fluids that slowly began to pool and trickle down her chin. Until fell between both buttocks of the leader and ended up on the bed.

In the other part, Jihyo needed to keep her mouth busy, so she shared a passionate kiss with the youngest, who left her tits free to go take care of her mouth. Now feeling more daring, he knelt down next to his leader's head and hit his face several times with her cock, still soaked with his own juices, so her mommy didn't hesitate to smile and open her mouth so that she could put that big shaft inside her. At first Tzuyu went slowly giving her some time to get used to the thickness rather than the length of her, as she was filling her mouth quite well and she didn't want to leave her breathless. But as soon as Jihyo considered that she had entered enough she closed her lips around the circumference and began to suck, cleaning her own essence from the younger’s member.

Momo always told her that her juices mixed with semen tasted delicious, and frankly she thought she was right. Although they weren't combined with actual cum, Tzuyu's tip was starting to release precum and the combination was driving her crazy. How could her own vagina taste so wonderful? But she didn't have time to ramble on about that as a pair of fingers working their way into her aroused entrance snapped her out of her thoughts. Momo had added two of her fingers to her lips and now she was pumping them like hell, while she attended her clit lovingly and desperately at the same time. Switching between sucking on the cocoon and licking it, a child would lick their favorite lollipop. She was apparently determined to give Jihyo her first orgasm of the day, and she already felt it coming closer.

Then with one last powerful lick Jihyo exploded in spasms as her own cum spurted down Momo's chin, leaving her even filthier and more covered than she already was. A strong squeeze on Tzuyu's buttock told her it was time to withdraw from her and she pulled her now glistening member out of the leader's mouth with a loud Pop! sound. Momo gave Jihyo a moment to catch her breath and climbed on top of her to share a slow, passionate kiss. Slow and deep, revealing all the love and lust they felt for each other.

In order not to leave the maknae aside, Jihyo took her shaft and began to masturbate her frantically without separating from the kiss. With the blowjob Tzuyu was already at her limit and the leader's strong hold plus the sight of the two women kissing was all she needed for her to take it no more. "I'm... I'm going to cum" she managed to articulate between pitiful moans, before the first drops of semen filtered through the tip of her dick. Then as if they were mentally connected, or it was simply that they were both hopelessly perverted, Momo broke the kiss and opened her mouth while Jihyo pointed the younger's cock at her. So the dancer received the powerful jets of semen all over her face, but especially inside her mouth. Like the pervert that Tzuyu was too, otherwise how else would she have gotten involved in this, she rubbed the dripping tip of her member all over Momo's face, eventually covering her face completely. And then she just collapsed back onto the pillows, exhausted and smiling because that orgasm had been the best she'd had in some time. Her cock rested on her thigh with a few drops of semen on the tip, which she picked up with a finger and brought to her mouth. It was better not to waste anything.

While Momo, still with her face covered and her mouth full, kissed Jihyo again with the same passion as before. Now mixing in her mouth the two flavors that she liked the most and sharing them with the leader. The combination of semen and vaginal fluids changed from mouth to mouth, while little by little they swallowed it drop by drop until they had nothing left of that delight to share. Jihyo then began to lick Momo's face, removing all traces of semen from her, while the dancer's cock dripped on the older woman's abdomen. Finally when she was clean they shared a chaste kiss and gazed lovingly at each other for a little while.

Now the only one who hadn't had an orgasm was Momo, and a feeling in Tzuyu's ass told her it was her duty to help her. Maybe for going overboard and rubbing her cock all over the dancer's face she should pay her back. Just before the others could think of anything she crossed her legs over Jihyo's face and shoved the balls into her mouth. She is understanding her intentions and simply used her hands to separate both buttocks of the youngest. Momo stared at the scene for a second and avoided smiling, finally she was going to end up fucking the younger girl's ass even when Jihyo was supposed to be the center of the action that day.

Momo gave the asshole a quick sniff before carelessly licking it and letting a large amount of saliva fall to coat it. There was no time to lose and besides, Tzuyu could perfectly take her cock, it wasn't the first time she did it and surely it wouldn't be the last. Then without further ado she positioned himself and pressed his tip to the wrinkled hole. Little by little the cock made its way through the anus of the youngest, who let out some cheeky moans, until she had a decent portion inside her. Momo spit on her ass again, and withdrew a few inches to go in a little faster this time, and so with each thrust she went a little deeper until her balls hit Jihyo's chin.

With his full length inside Tzuyu, Momo took her by the hips and began to fuck her. She was going at a slow but steady pace, she wanted to enjoy the sensations that the maknae's asshole gave her. She was loving how her wrinkled orifice was practically sucking on her cock, how Tzuyu could control it to increase or decrease the pressure, and how her balls bumped against Jihyo. Everything was rapidly driving her to climax, and she was well aware that she couldn't take it this time. The point was that she wanted to explode inside the youngest, and fill her to the most hidden space with her hot milk.

She let out a sigh mixed with what seemed like a moan and a growl at the same time, the end was near. She then simply abandoned herself to lust and began to fuck the youngest's delicious ass with all the strength she had left, with all the speed she was capable of. Even to the point that her hip muscles began to cramp, but she kept thrusting as she could feel the energy building in her belly. And only a few frantic moments passed, where Tzuyu's moans became even louder, until Momo couldn't resist it anymore and reached for release. Instantly she felt how thick jets of semen sprouted from the tip of her, to go to paint the inside of the maknae's ass.

Momo fell panting on Tzuyu's back, his cock continuing to release drops of warm semen inside her. He wrapped her arms around her chest to keep from slipping as she slowly withdrew, making sure to leave her entire load inside Tzuyu's asshole. But she continued slowly rubbing her shaft between the buttocks of the youngest, she was so comfortable that for nothing in the world she wanted to let her go. Although she had already released all of her semen, she was still riding the orgasm that had left her somewhat stunned. Without a doubt she was the one who had come the hardest of the three, she deserved a little more time to recover her energies. And her peace only lasted until Jihyo punched her in the balls, she had completely forgotten that they were fucking right over the leader.

When Tzuyu was released from the embrace, she hurriedly removed her testicles from the eldest's mouth and lay down between the two members who lay exhausted on the bed. She moved carefully, as she squeezed her ass as hard as she could to keep all the load Momo had gifted her inside her anus. She loved how the warm substance felt inside her, warming her insides in a rather dirty yet exciting way. She got under Jihyo's arm and began to gently suck on the nipple closest to her, while she lovingly played with the hair on the older woman's crotch; without actually touching her leader's vagina again. Momo for her part began to caress Tzuyu's side and fill her shoulder with small kisses, while she rubbed her shaft again against the buttocks of the youngest. “You did well Baby, you took me so well. Enjoy my load inside you ”She whispered to her affectionately, before which Tzuyu could not help but blush and feel proud inside her.

“Both of you did so well,” Jihyo added, spreading her legs a bit so the maknae could play better with her hair. “But don't think that was all. The best part is yet to come.” And with those last words the three of them lay on the bed, all covered in sweat and other fluids, giving love to each other before even thinking about the second round. And what did they care if they found them like this? Hell, the entire building had probably heard Tzuyu's moans by now.

[mxltifxnd0m]

sub! sammy headcanons ⟡ s. winchester

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader [can be read as gn/afab! reader]

word count: 1.5K

warnings: mentions of sub/dom dynamics, cursing, oral m/f receiving, praise, hair pulling, sam being a brat, pain/marking kink, bondage, pegging, choking, cock- warming, written with early seasons sam in mind, barely edited

a/n: MINORS DNI!! i will use the block button if you do :) anyways i was inspired by the whimper audio of jared in house of wax and it sparked this idea that i got around too lol

also, i will be posting a weekly recap of my week during this semester of school so go and check that out! ik i said i wouldn't be posting that often, but perhaps i lied, but then again its only the first week back lol

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ a preface? idk some pre thots before the headcanons lol

okay so in my mind, sam is a soft dom 100% but can be a switch when the situation calls for it

due to his stature, it can be hard to imagine sam as a sub, but trust me, he can be 

i think he’s more of a sub when he’s younger, like in the earlier seasons of the show  

but in the later seasons, he def would want more control in his sex life (would go more in-depth about this, but this is not the place for that lol)

anyways time for the headcanons loll

��⟡⟡

⟡ praise kink

is this even a debate?? The answer is no its not loll 

this goes both ways; he loves giving you praise but also receiving it 

thrives on the pet names you give him “pretty boy”, “handsome”, “good boy”, etc. 

makes his brain turn into literal mush and doubles down on whatever he’s doing to do, whether it's going down on you or fucking you straight into the mattress or thrusting up into you harder as you’re on top of him

⟡ certified muncher

mari did some NSFW headcanons a while back for sam (check that out!) and i mentioned that he was a certified muncher and i stand by it 100% 

sam is a pussy fiend™️

like do we not remember that sam had a sex dream about bela and he “went down” on her??? 

yeah, you can’t sit here and tell me he isn’t one  but yes he loves going down on you!! 

he’s obsessed with the taste of you and how warm you are as he drags his tongue through your slit 

if he gets just a taste, he's a fucking goner  he gets pussydrunk so fast  he’s damn good at it too

ruts his hips into the mattress unconsciously as he goes down on you because giving you pleasure gets him off 

is obsessed when you ride his face, like yes use his face to cum! 

like he loves the feeling of your thighs cushioning his ears as you grind against his face, his nose bumping your clit perfectly as his tongue is as deep as he can get in your cunt and lets out muffled groans, sending vibrations through you, and makes you rut into his face even harder 

could (and has) cummed untouched just by eating you out  there have been times when you had to physically haul him off of you because you were overstimulated to the point where it almost hurt 

“pretty boy, please.” your voice was wrecked as your hands were weaved into his brown hair and tugged him away from your cunt. he whined like a baby when you pulled him off, and sam looked like the poster boy of debauchery. the bottom half of his face slick with your arousal, lips puffy and pink as his hair was standing up in all different directions, and his eyes were glazed over with lust. 

⟡ hair pulling

speaking of his hair standing up in different directions  the man loves and i mean LOVES, getting his hair tugged/pulled at

sam likes it when you play with it, he curls up into your lap as you play with it, but as you start, you tug on it lightly; low moans and whimpers leave his mouth as he burrows into your lap and shoves his face in your crotch 

but he loves it when you tug on it as he goes down you, sending jolts of pleasure through his spine and to his cock 

one time, he came in his boxers when the two of you had an early morning makeout session, and you tugged a little too hard, and he let out a choked moan against your lips. you pulled away from him for him to shove his head in the crook of your neck, riding out his orgasm. when he came out of his hiding spot, he had a red hue on his cheeks as he looked sheepish

⟡ vocal

oh, this man is vocal [this whimper audio is what sparked this all]  at first, he was shy about making noise, only letting out small grunts and groans 

but as you guys were together for longer, you slowly coaxed it out of him 

“come on, make some noise for me, handsome; wanna hear you,” you said as you kissed around his hips and down his v-lines, scraping your teeth along the skin before kissing the tip of his cock. A small groan left his lips before a louder moan erupted from his chest as you took his tip in your mouth and suckled on it. 

But once he got over not making noise, oh god, he sounded beautiful as you overstimulated him and milked him for what he was worth as he let out noises and babbled out nonsense from his cum-drunk mind.

⟡ bratty

we’ve seen the sass on this man; he is 100% capable of being a brat 

but when he is one, he revels in being difficult

but it just means you get to put this 6’4 man in his place (you act like it doesn’t do wonders for your ego, but it does lol) 

when he acts like a brat, you’re rougher with him, and sam loves it  he loves feeling the sting of your hand against his ass or the scraping of your nails along his chest as you ride him 

this also means you edge him for hours, bringing him to the edge, his cock drooling precum and flushed red. tears leak from his eyes as he whines, the noise echoing through the empty motel room. 

“pl-please! I wanna cum.” sam’s voice was higher than it had ever sounded and absolutely ruined from the amount of times that you’ve denied him sweet relief. you clicked your tongue at him, “have you learned your lesson?” your hand was tight around the base of his cock as you planted teasing kisses around his pelvis and thighs, sucking hickeys wherever you so pleased.

⟡ pain/marking kink

sam isn’t one to love pain, considering the life he leads but he relishes in the pleasurable pain of your marks. 

loves to feel the slight sting on his back as he stretches or puts on his shirt from your nails biting into his skin and scratching it up  his thighs being sensitive and tender from the number of hickeys that you left in your wake as you blew him 

sam didn’t think he’d like being slapped, but you asked him if you could and he was surprised that he moaned in response as a red handprint bloomed on his face (you don’t do it often, but its always welcomed if you do it)

⟡ bondage

sam has the innocent facade down to a T, but he’s a kinky motherfucker behind those puppy dog eyes of his 

loves being tied up and at your mercy he doesn’t mind handcuffs, but he’s more partial to the silk ropes you use to tie his arms together and to the headboard and use him in any way you wanted 

he knows that he could get out of the ties if you wanted (you guys have a system in place to let the other know if they want to tap out), but he likes surrendering himself to you and knows that you’ll take good care of him 

when you get him all tied up and when you’re done with him, he’s practically shaking with pleasure and blissed out to the point where he doesn’t know where he is sometimes

sam in shibari makes you go feral (you learned how to do the ties and mentioned it to him one day and pleaded for you to do it on him)

⟡⟡⟡

bonus headcanons!

⟡ pegging

it was an experience that you both thoroughly enjoyed

he finally had gotten a piece of what you were like the day after of an intense night with sam  sam was surprised by the ache he felt, but it was a pleasant one 

this was one of the times when he was the loudest, and it’s one of his favorite things to do with you

⟡ choking

you don’t exactly choke him you either leave your hand on his neck to rest there as your hips swivel around his cock 

or you put the slightest amount of pressure on his neck, not cutting off his airflow but the blood flow, and when you let go, he was catapulted into an orgasm so hard his eyes crossed.

⟡ cock-warming

he loves it when, after an intense session, staying connected to you as long as he can 

sometimes, after you guys clean up and head for bed, he always asks if he could just stay in you since it’s comforting for him  You always oblige him since you love it, too 

It’s slightly uncomfortable at first; his soft cock doesn’t exactly sink in as smoothly compared to when he’s hard 

but the two of you sleep soundly until the morning, where he had grown harder in you as the night progressed, and it usually leads to slow morning sex

[drdemonprince]

At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 

I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 

He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 

I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 

He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 

He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 

People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 

I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 

I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 

From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 

I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.

I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 

I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 

All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 

I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 

I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.

[ari-freeworld]

'*•♡Finding Space In Your Heart ♡•*'

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01 - Unexpected offers

Pairing - Biker/Roommate!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

An - After debating whether or not to post this, I decided to just go for it! I’m excited to share my very first published fic with you all. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, let me know what you think! XO

Summary - After Kirishima moves in with his girlfriend, Mina, Bakugou finds himself in need of a new roommate. He’s on the hunt for someone who can tolerate his loud (and expensive) Ducati, his odd hours at the mechanic shop, and who is fairly tidy and able to pay their share of the rent. After having no luck finding the right person, his long-time friends Mina and Kirishima suggest an old friend of Mina's—enter you, a young professional writer looking for a place to live during your partnership with a publishing company.

Notes/warnings - Qurikless AU, aged up characters, drinking and smoking mentioned. Inappropriate language (its bkg duh) Slow build up (eventual smut).

wrds - 1.9k

02 , 03

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"Hello, earth to y/n!" A hand waved over your face, pulling you from your trance.

"Sorry, Mina," you said, stirring your milkshake with your straw.

You were sitting in Mina's local diner, catching up and drinking milkshakes—a monthly ritual you both had kept since your teen years. However, this particular meeting had been long overdue since Mina and her boyfriend, Kirishima, had been busy these last few months with their big move.

"What's bugging you?" Mina asked. Your friendship with her was a strong one, now going on eight years since you met in a softball little league at the age of fifteen. Ever since then, she had been your rock and you hers.

You didn't want to dampen the mood with your issues, especially when you were supposed to be celebrating her move. However, your current situation had you stressed for a couple of weeks now.

You had received astonishing news a few weeks ago: an offer from a publishing company you'd been dreaming of working with for a while. They would love to work with you on your book. It was the perfect opportunity, but life had thrown you a curveball. The company expected you to relocate within the next month, or they would reselect someone who could. All the places you’d looked at were way over your budget, and you didn't want to depend on your parents right after moving out from their place.

You sighed, "I've been having trouble with the new job."

"What!? Did they decide they didn't want you anymore? Those pricks!" Mina slammed her milkshake on the table, shooting a couple of drops of whipped cream onto her lap.

"No, no, it isn't that," you sighed again. "It's just that they want me to move closer to the site, and I'm getting nervous because I can't find a place yet."

"Well, why don't you stay with me and Kiri? We wouldn't mind giving you the spare room for as long as you need." You could tell she was serious. Bless her heart.

"I literally could not do that. After all, you and Kiri have been waiting for the chance to move in together, and I don't want to ruin that for you."

"Why not? It would be fun! Plus, you wouldn’t be a bother."

"I appreciate the offer, Mina, but I don't want to intrude." Maybe you'll just have to make the three-hour drive there and back every day, you thought to yourself.

"Gosh, y/n, you're so stubborn. The offer will stand indefinitely." She's such a good friend; you couldn't possibly burden her and Kiri. More like you won't.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Fuck," Bakugou exhaled, wiping the grease and dirt off his hands with his white tank top.

"Hey, Bakugou! Are you closing up soon? It's late," Kiri entered from the semi-closed garage door after helping out their last customer for the day.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just fucking replacing my bike's stupid-ass engine oil." Kiri could tell something was bothering Bakugou. He'd been trying to get it out of him all day. He hated seeing his friend this way: walking around with tense shoulders, snapping at people. He even drove away a customer this morning with his attitude.

"Dude, what's up with you today?" Kiri asked. "You've been... pissy."

Bakugou glared at Kiri, then sat on the stool by his raised bike. "I can't find a fucking roommate," he quietly admitted.

"Shit, man. I'm sorry about dumping the move on you." Kiri moved to lean on the large tool cabinet. "I could always help you pay for this month to help out."

"Don't be a dumbass." Bakugou ran his hand through his blonde locks, moving the parts stuck to his sweaty forehead from his face. "You're basically moved out; you would just be paying my rent for me."

Kirishima pondered for a moment, trying to think of some way to help his friend. Then suddenly, he remembered what Mina mentioned the other day.

"Wait! This is perfect. I just remembered!" Kiri stood up straight. "Mina's friend, y/n!"

"Who?" Bakugou asked, uninterested.

"You know y/n. I've spoken about her before. She's actually looking for a place but couldn't find any within her budget!"

"A girl?! I can't move in with some random chick!" Bakugou was surprised Kirishima would even suggest that.

"You have to meet her! She would be the perfect roommate for you. She's reserved and, from what Mina's said, a really good person!"

"Yeah, no fucking thanks." Bakugou got up to pack things up and close the shop.

Kirishima, on the other hand, did not care about what Bakugou said and proceeded to text his girlfriend, trying to come up with a plan to get them to meet.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, Kiri and Mina's plan was in full swing. You were getting ready to meet Mina and some of Kiri's friends at a downtown bar. Unbeknownst to you, this was no ordinary hangout—there was a secret agenda at play.

Now here you were, about to enter some random bar, planning to have a stress-free night filled with fun before returning to reality tomorrow.

As you opened the bar door, the smell of cigarettes, greasy food, and alcohol hit your nose. You weren't too big on partying or getting drunk; Mina, on the other hand, was a pure party animal through and through. You often found yourself tagging along on outings like these, so it wasn't going to be a peculiar evening—or so you thought.

"Y/n! Over here!" You saw Mina practically jumping out of her seat, waving to get your attention. Making your way over, you glanced at everyone else seated in the booth. Familiar faces you'd seen at past hangouts.

"Hey, guys!" You stood in front of the table, and seated from left to right were Sero, Denki, Kirishima, and, of course, Mina. It seemed like there was someone missing who had been seated between Denki and Kirishima. Mina's face was dusty with a pink hue; you guessed she had probably had a few drinks before your arrival.

"You're just in time. We just sent Bakugou to get the shots!" she mentioned, looking past you towards the bar.

Bakugou. You felt like you remembered Kirishima mentioning him before.

"Here are your fucking drinks, assholes," you heard a deep, slightly raspy voice speak from behind you.

You turned and immediately faced someone's chest, holding a small tray of filled shot glasses and lime slices. Glancing up, you saw a man standing at a good six feet and three or four inches. His attention was focused on his friends, but he glanced down at you, and your eyes met.

Getting a better look at him, you noticed his very stocky build and his beautiful features. His eyes were a shade of red—not like blood, but the color you see during a sunset. His hair was blond and spiky but looked soft to the touch. You snuck a quick glance at his lips, which were soft and plump.

Bakugou's eyes had been latched onto yours since he faced you. Such a pretty, delicate face, he thought. His eyes ran up and down your body but quickly returned to Kirishima once he realized who you were.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Shitty Hair?" Bakugou's voice was loud but not louder than the music filling the bar. You glanced back at Mina, confused, and she gave you a cheeky smile.

Some hours later, after drinking with your friends, you found yourself sitting right next to Bakugou, practically on his lap due to the overstuffed booth. Mina took the time to explain that he was searching for a roommate and, since you were having trouble, you could move in with him instead of on your own. Hence, the orchestrated meeting.

You noticed his cedarwood smell, almost overwhelming your senses. You picked up on smaller notes of leather and coconut. The silence between you was a little awkward now that you both understood the situation. Your friends were having their own drunken conversations, but Mina was secretly peeping glances at you, hoping you and Bakugou would help each other out.

"I'm sorry Mina put you up to this. I didn't know," you decided to break the silence, speaking without facing him. If you turned, your faces would be inches apart. He side-eyed you, sitting with his body slightly leaned on the cushion of the shared booth. He scoffed.

"S'not your fuckin' fault. They put you up to this," his words sounded harsh, but his delivery was rather soft. From what Mina said about him before, he sounded like an overly aggressive guy.

"So, you're looking for a roommate?"

"Yeah, Shitty Hair decided to move out and in with Pinky," you chuckled at his nicknames for them.

"Yeah, no wonder that area is hard to afford on your own," you sighed, crossing your arms on the table.

"You looking for a place?"

"Kinda? I don't know. I got this job offer, but I don't think I can accept it if I don't find a place I can afford soon." You sounded worried, hoping it wasn't detectable in your voice.

"Hm," he gave a sound of acknowledgment. He watched you stand, his eyes running down your body again, this time much slower, drinking in your curves. He had been watching you all night, more like observing. Yes, he found you pretty, but meeting you was interesting to him. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn't felt a woman’s warmth for a year now and was craving it, or if he just liked the way you laughed with your friends and the way the dim lights made your skin glow.

"I'll be back," you said, the drinking giving you a buzz, and you couldn't stop yourself from overthinking again. Getting up from your seat, you squeezed past Bakugou, Denki, and Sero, heading to the door. You needed air.

Letting the nightly breeze hit your face, you pulled out your phone, thinking about calling your mom to vent your troubles. She and your dad had been away visiting family, letting you have the place to yourself. You couldn't bring yourself to tell them about the job before they left because you knew they would offer to pay for your place instantly, which was the last thing you wanted. So you settled for the cigarette in your purse that Sero had handed you earlier.

Lighting it, you inhaled and exhaled, hating the taste but finding it brought some comfort, like your worries were drifting away with the smoke.

"Disgusting habit," someone spit out. You turned to face them, instantly putting it out.

"Oh, I know. I don't smoke often, but this night called for one," you faced Bakugou, now out of the cramped bar. His figure stood a little taller and more comfortable. He walked up beside you, his scent hitting a little harder as the breeze carried it right to your nose. His clothes were black and casual, but you couldn't help but notice the tightness of his t-shirt.

Man, am I buzzed, you thought to yourself.

The silence now that you were alone was comforting. "If it's beating you up that fucking badly, I wouldn't mind," he said. You snapped your head towards him quickly.

"It would help both of us out," he continued. "You'd be saving me the trouble of finding some asshole roommate."

"Really...?" you searched his eyes for an answer. "You wouldn't mind?"

"How 'bout this: come look at the place with me now," he leaned close, his body looming above you. "And you let me know, princess."

Bakugou thought to himself, maybe he wouldn’t mind having a girl for a roommate. Regardless, he knew he certainly wouldn’t mind having you as one.

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Hope you enjoyed! Planning on releasing more parts soon <3

Btw lmk if you want to be added to the tag list :)

[goblinontour]

Daddy Came Home

and you’ll gladly break your heart for him

series masterlist | part 2

warnings: soft!dom!alex, smut, piv, daddy kink, br33ding kink, you know how it goes…

word count: 3.7k

London, 2022

You were surprised to see his name pop up on your phone. You hadn’t talked in a while, really talked. It felt like forever. But now he called you up. You didn’t get to it in time, but he left a voicemail, asking to see you. He told you he had a break from the tour for a couple of weeks and he would be in town.

Did he think you were going to get into bed with him again so easily? Well, truth be told, you probably would. It had never gotten serious between you. You’d just fuck whenever he felt like it or whenever you felt like it, regardless of whether you two were in separate relationships or not. Maybe it wasn’t right. Probably wasn’t. Definitely wasn’t. But it didn’t stop you before, and it wasn’t going to stop you now.

Not that you had a boyfriend at the moment, but you suspected he had a girlfriend. Yes, you kept up with him. You were curious to see what he was up to. But if he was calling you, then that meant that the so-called relationship he was in wasn’t serious. Or not that serious. He wouldn’t ask to see you otherwise, would he? Maybe he didn’t want to fuck. But what else would he want from you?

The last time you saw him, it had been one of those rare nights when the city felt more alive than ever. 

His hair was still short back then, compared to the more recent pics you’d seen of him, though not as short as the fresh buzz cut he had when you first met. You’d spent hours just talking and laughing, almost forgetting the physical aspect of your relationship. Almost. But by the end of the night, the familiar pull was too strong to resist. It always was. The tiniest touch of his hand on your arm was all it took for you to get him to fuck you in the bathroom of the bar.

You wondered if this time would be any different. As you debated whether to call him back, your mind wandered to all the times you’d spent together. The whispered secrets, the things he’d tell you when he was just drunk enough that you knew no one else could ever find out about. 

But there was always that unspoken understanding. No strings attached. No commitments. Just a series of fleeting moments that left you both satisfied and yet somehow always wanting more.

You sighed, staring at his name on your screen. What was it about him that made it so hard to say no? Maybe it was the way he looked at you, how it made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Or maybe it was the way he could make you laugh, even when you felt like crying. Or maybe just the way he fucked you. Whatever it was, it was enough to make you consider seeing him again. Even after not hearing from him for years now. 

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the call button and waited as the phone rang. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” he said, his voice smooth and so familiar, like nothing had changed and no time had passed. 

“Hey.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m in town.” he said. “Don’t know if you got my message.”

“Got it.”

“So, what do you say? I know you miss me.”

“What makes you think so?” you shot back.

“You called back.”

You could almost see the smirk on his face, and it was infuriating, but he was right.

“So, lunch? Tomorrow?” he asked again.

You hesitated for a moment, but then you smiled to yourself. You were so weak when it came to him. “Yeah, I'd like that. Where?”

“Perfect. I wanna try that place you keep posting about. The one you say has the best wine.”

“Have you been stalking me?” you asked, half-joking.

“No, not stalking. Just keeping myself updated, so to speak.” he replied smoothly.

“You don’t even like wine.”

“I know I don’t, but you do.” he said, his voice carrying that familiar warmth.

You couldn't help but smile at his response, a small part of you touched that he remembered the detail. “Alright. Noon?”

“Noon it is.” he confirmed.

As you hung up the phone, you felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. You thought about it again. Noon. It was weird that he was just fine with that. Noon wasn’t really giving ‘I’m gonna fuck you in the car after we eat’ vibes. Noon was giving lunch with a friend or a casual date, not the usual hookups you were used to with him.

Maybe he really did just want to catch up, you mused. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time, you’d figure out what it was you really wanted from each other. Or maybe you’d just end up right back where you started.

The next day, you arrived at the place you decided upon a few minutes early. You were never late. He often was. But hopefully he wouldn’t take too long today. You chose a table outside, guessing he probably still smoked.

As you waited, you couldn’t help but glance around. It was a place you’d often visited with friends. Seeing it now, with the prospect of seeing him again, made it feel different. There was a charged energy in the air, a mix of anticipation and maybe even some nostalgia.

When he finally walked into your view, you looked up and your breath caught. He looked effortlessly cool, as always, with his slightly tousled hair. Sharp lines. Head to toe. His jeans were tight on his thighs but flowed into a slight flare the lower you looked. Sunglasses propped on his nose, as always. His aviators were the only thing obstructing your view. You couldn’t see his eyes, but he noticed you staring at him. He didn’t say anything, though. He was doing the same thing.

He approached the table with that familiar swagger, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Hey.” he said, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Hey.” you replied, your voice catching slightly. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, I was the one who invited you, after all.” he said, removing his sunglasses and setting them on the table. His eyes finally met yours, and you felt that familiar jolt. It was as if no time had passed at all.

You both ordered drinks, falling into an easy conversation about the city, your friends, and his latest tour adventures. 

As you two glanced over the menu for something to eat, he asked, “Any recommendations? What should I get?”

You pointed out a few of your favourites, but he seemed pretty set on ordering a burger. “It’s nothing special.” you warned him, but he insisted, so you let him be.

When the second round of drinks arrived, you sipped on your wine as he drank his beer. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but your attention kept drifting back to him. The way he moved, the sound of his voice, the little details you had missed.

Eventually, the food arrived. You watched as he made a mess of himself with the stupid burger, the grease and juices dripping down his fingers and hands. Despite the mess, there was something undeniably arousing about the way he licked his fingers clean. He noticed the way you were staring. He knew. And it was like he was doing it on purpose at this point.

Determined not to be the only one affected, you decided to taunt him too. You grabbed his beer bottle, wrapping your lips around the neck and taking a sip, slowly, looking him straight in the eyes. He knew very well what you were hinting at.

“Cheeky.” he said, grabbing a napkin to properly clean himself.

“Not my fault you’ve been neglecting me for years. Thought you forgot about me.” you shot back.

“Are you saying you haven’t had sex since I last saw you?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Never said that.”

“So, you’re just saying that no one fucked you like I do then?”

“Didn’t say that either.”

“Mhm, if you say so.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Look, I know my arse is big, but it’s not my only feature.” he joked, easing the slight tension with a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are.” he said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours.

There was a charged silence between you, the air thick with the unspoken knowledge of what was bound to happen eventually. Despite your best efforts to keep things light, the familiar pull was undeniable. You both knew where this was heading, but for now, you were content to let the moment stretch, savouring the connection that had never really faded.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourselves lingering at the table, reluctant to let the moment end. It felt like a tentative truce. Watching the other tables become vacant only for another group to occupy them, while you stayed there, in your spots. 

He lit a cigarette at one point, when another round of drinks arrived. You’d lost count. You watched as he took a drag and blew the smoke away from you. He still had his manners in that regard. “You still don’t mind, right?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t, but thanks for being so considerate.” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless.

“I’m glad you came.” he said, his tone softening. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

You looked at him, studying his face. There was something different in his expression, something deeper and more reflective than before. As he leaned back in his chair, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was like every other time, yet something felt different. Maybe it was just you, hoping for something more, something deeper. You took a moment to bring yourself back to reality. You couldn’t let yourself fall for him now just because he looked at you slightly differently. 

“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?” you asked, though you knew the answer.

“No. Is that a problem?”

“Is it?”

“No, I don’t think so.” he responded, stretching his arm to reach the ashtray in the middle of the table, getting rid of the burnt bits gathering at the end of his cigarette.

“I’ve missed you too.” you admitted, the honesty surprising even yourself.

“This place is nice.” he said, looking around at the lights that lit up with the sun starting to set.

“Are we gonna get to the point of this soon?”

“There’s no point. I wanted to see you.”

“In your bed, maybe.” you said.

“And preferably naked.” he joked, stubbing out the rest of the cigarette and waving at the waiter for the check.

You laughed, shaking your head at his bluntness. “You never change.”

“Would you want me to?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Sometimes.” you admitted quietly. “But then again, sometimes not.”

He nodded, understanding the complexity of your feelings without needing further explanation. The waiter arrived with the check, and he quickly settled it, leaving a generous tip.

As you both stood up to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you along the way. The contact was electrifying, a reminder of how easily he could affect you, and you knew, despite your best intentions, that you were already in too deep. 

You walked down the street together, the conversation light and easy, but the underlying tension palpable.

“So, where to now?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Your place?” you suggested, the words coming out before you could second-guess yourself.

He smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation in his eyes. “Sounds perfect.”

The walk to his house was a blur, the anticipation building with each step. When you finally arrived, he unlocked the door and held it open for you, his eyes never leaving yours. Inside, the familiarity of his place hit you. Little details that reminded you of past encounters, shared moments, and unspoken drunken promises you both pretended never happened. 

He closed the door behind you, and you turned to face him, the air between you thick with tension. “So, no point to this, huh?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist. “No point.” he agreed, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just missed you.”

You tilted your head back, meeting his gaze. “Show me.” you challenged, your heart pounding in your chest.

His response was immediate, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both slow and desperate. He was kissing you as if he was trying to relearn the shape of your lips and how they fit together with his. Eventually, he nudged you with his tongue, asking for your permission, which you gave immediately. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed his taste until now when you felt it again spreading inside your mouth.

He led you to the bedroom, his lips only leaving yours for maybe two seconds at a time to catch his breath and take a glance, making sure you wouldn’t bump your head into a wall or something. But your body remembered the way perfectly. Clothes began shedding, his boots lost along the way wherever he’d kicked them off.

“I’m gonna fuck you.” he said, lips trailing down your neck to one of your shoulders.

“Yeah.” you breathed out.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard.” he paused, biting your flesh and holding it between his teeth until it stung, before letting it go. “I’m gonna make you remember I’m the best.”

“Mhmmm.” you murmured.

Weak. So weak. So fucking weak for him already.

He pushed you onto the bed, his hands rough, just as you remembered them, as they roamed over your body, exploring and rediscovering every inch of you. You felt his weight settle over you, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. He kissed his way down your body, taking his time, his breath hot against your skin.

He flipped you over, grabbing your hips and lifting them up, positioning you just how he wanted. He had a thing for fucking you from behind. He’d told you once how it helped him not fall for you too hard, but that was one of the drunk conversations you both chose to ignore the next day.

He teased you for a while longer, bending down to pull you apart with his fingers. You felt exposed, so utterly exposed to him, even though it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. Thank God for the alcohol that helped ease your nerves. You felt his breath on your pussy as his mouth lingered close. You wondered if he was actually gonna touch you or not. But he just spit on you, the cold saliva hitting you, taking you by surprise.

He quickly repositioned himself and slid inside you fully in one stroke.

“Fuck.” you moaned.

He felt bigger than you remembered. Or maybe you just weren’t used to him anymore. There was a period when you’d fuck so often your pussy practically got molded to his shape inside. Now, every inch of him stretched you in a way that felt both painful and blissful, filling you completely.

He set a steady, relentless rhythm, his grip on your hips firm and possessive. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp and moan uncontrollably. You clung to the sheets, trying to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensations he set upon you. 

“Remember this.” he whispered, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, and he nipped at your shoulder while thrusting into you with a force that made you cry out, 

“Yes, daddy.” you managed to gasp, your mind swimming in the intensity of the moment.

You didn't even realize what you just said, too fucked out and drunk on his cock to think about it. He paused, his movements slowing to a stop.

“What did you just say?” he asked, pulling out and flipping you around swiftly so he could look at you. His eyes bored into yours. You would’ve expected a tinge of amusement. But it was like you pressed a button that turned him on more than you’d ever seen. Primal.

“Yes.” you repeated, pausing just to see his reaction. “Daddy.”

“Call me daddy again if you want me to make you come.” he ordered, playfully teasing you by slapping his cock on your clit repeatedly and nudging your entrance but not slipping back in.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate.

“Good. I want you to think about this every time you try to forget me.” he said, pushing back inside you and motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist. His rhythm resumed, each thrust deeper and more forceful than the last, driving you to the brink.

You obeyed, wrapping your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back. The new angle intensified everything, and your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to thrust again, even deeper and even harder. Your body arched in response to the exquisite pleasure he was giving you. His words echoed in your mind, branding themselves into your memory with every movement, every sensation, ensuring that you would never be able to forget this moment, or him.

“Harder, daddy.” you whimpered, the word slipping from your lips as if it were the only thing you knew how to say anymore. 

His eyes darkened with satisfaction at your submission. “That’s it.” he murmured, his voice a rough caress. “Let me hear you.”

Each powerful stroke drove you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to his commands. The pressure built within you, coiling tight and hot, until it was all you could focus on. Your breath came in short, desperate pants as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of release.

“I’m gonna fill you.” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. And then I’m gonna fuck you again.”

He pressed his hand firmly on your stomach, right where you could feel the deep intrusion every time he thrust into you. “Can you feel me inside you?” he asked, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words, the intensity of his touch and words amplifying your need. 

“I’m gonna fuck you until you’re full of me.” he declared, his voice a low, commanding growl. His movements became even more urgent, pushing you toward the edge as his hand continued to press on your stomach, emphasising just how deep he was inside you.

He knew exactly how to push you to the brink, keeping you there until you were desperate for release.

“You wanna come?” he asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. 

“Please.” you begged

He slid his hand lower between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. The combined sensations of his thrusts and his touch sent you spiralling, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling.

“Fuck, yes.” he groaned, feeling you clench around him.

He increased his pace, chasing his own release. The room was filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. He wasn’t far behind, his movements becoming erratic before he let out a guttural groan, his body shuddering with release. You felt him tense and he buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he came.

He only stopped for a few seconds before starting to move inside you again. You knew it wouldn’t last long. He was growing tired from the position, and you were starting to feel sore from the sheer intensity with which he fucked you. 

Everything was wet. You could hear the sound of his cum getting fucked back into you, each thrust squelching with the evidence of his release.

His movements became more frantic, more desperate, until he came again. It was weaker this time, but the feeling of him filling you up again drove you over the edge, your legs trembling and falling to the side.

“Full.” he whispered as he collapsed on top of you, gathering the strength to move.

When he felt capable, he pulled out, sliding down on the bed and using his fingers to try and push everything back inside you. There was so much, too much to not drip out, but he pushed his fingers as deep inside you as he could, giving your pussy a light slap before he collapsed back on the bed, this time next to you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, just staring up at the ceiling as you tried to your breaths. The room felt heavy with the weight of what had just happened. It didn’t feel like a random fuck. Not when he was saying stuff like that. And you weren’t sure you could just ignore it. 

He turned to you, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly tender. “Missed you.” he said again, his voice softer now.

You turned to look at him, searching his eyes for any hint of what he truly felt. But as always, he was an enigma, his feelings hidden behind a carefully crafted facade. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded, your heart still racing. 

It was always like this with him. Intense, consuming, and leaving you wanting more, even when you knew you shouldn’t. You knew deep down that this wouldn’t change anything, that tomorrow you’d both go back to pretending this never happened. 

a/n: sequel to ‘Dublin In Ecstasy’

based on this request

this just flowed so well i don’t know how it happened. i didn’t know how to start it at forst but i had some notes about the whole burger scene from last year and then it just kept going. kinda like how it turned out, missed a bit of dom!al

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica