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#but this needed to be done this way. it needed to.
bixels · 2 days
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This Twitter MLP human redesign drama is a mess, leave me the fuck out of it.
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lewisvinga · 1 day
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what, like it’s hard ? | max verstappen x fem! med student! reader
summary; fans couldn’t help but criticize y/n and her lack of appearances at races. turns out, the girlfriend of their favorite driver has a pretty smart brain
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; hate comments, cursing
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
notes; requested ! as a nursing major, i <3 anything to do w reader in the med field 😩
masterlist !
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liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !
yourusername: finally done w this weeks exams, now to study for the next one🤒
maxverstappen1: u gotta check my brain miss future neurosurgeon bc all i think abt is u
yourusername: i’d say your brain is working just fine !😁
yourbestfriend: perks of being a nurse is seeing you drag urself down the halls 🥸🥸
yourusername: see i’m physically there but after 24 hrs im mentally not 😕
username: oh hello
username: HIIAISKAKDKS
username: wait omg ur in med school????
yourusername: yes🤓 i’m omw to being a neurosurgeon, long path but it’s worth it🤍
username: A NEUROSURGEON?!-“;&2@;9???!!’alddk
username: y’all no wonder y/n hasn’t been to races if she’s in MED SCHOOL
username: she’s being miss smartie pants meanwhile u guys were hating 😒😒😒
alexandrasaintmleux: you’ll be the prettiest neurosurgeon ever💓
yourusername: alexxxx🥹🥹❤️‍🩹
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, and others !
yourusername: another busy month + finally a day off! finally spent a day w max after being at the hospital non stop for a month 😴😴😴
tagged; maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend
maxverstappen1: and we made most of that day❤️ love you, dr y/n
yourusername: soon soon, love you my maxie!❤️‍🩹
username: no way a wag goes to harvard med school
yourusername: what? like it’s hard?
username: LEGALLY BLONDE REFERANCE Y/N ILYYYYY🙏🙏
username: stop the first pic is scute🥹🥹
username: do you know how cool it is that seeing a wag as a med student??? it’s my dream to be a doctor, y/n you’re an inspiration!
yourusername: oh my🥹 you’re too kind💓
username: harvard med school to be a neurosurgeon IKTR!!!!
username: me romanticizing nursing school;
username: they could never make me hate on her for not going to races! med school is hard enoughhhh
yourbestfriend: look at us working on the same floor 🥸
yourusername: i fear they’re gonna be sick of us once we get paired together for surgeries
username: imma pretend i need brain surgery so i can meet y/n💆‍♀️
username: poor girl gets one day free a month and was getting hate for not being able to travel to multiple countries for a week💀
username: she’s out here becoming a neurosurgeon meanwhile they’re hating behind a screen ijbolllll
username: y/n would be the coolest neurosurgeon i just know itttt
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stars-for-circe · 3 days
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Tongue Tied
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Support Palestine
Tags / cw: EXTREMELY suggestive, oral fixation, fingers in mouth, tongue piercing, piercer!Ellie, choking, finger sucking, Ellie is kinda pervy?? WE USE CELSIUS GUYS. 19 CELSIUS!!!
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The leather seat felt clammy below you, despite the gentle faux breeze coming from the air conditioning. Beside you, the small tray of sterile equipment, reminding you of why you were here in the first place.
You shivered. Fuck, who sets the AC at 19 degrees? Wrapping your arms around yourself, you began to regret the choice of wearing a tank top despite the weather outside. Outside, where you’d much rather be - where there wasn’t a room colder than the arctic, or a bunch of needles about to be stuck in you, or a stupid fucking leather seat digging right in-
“Cold? I can turn it up, if you want.”
Ellie Williams. The most popular piercer in the area. Either from her looks or her talent, you couldn’t tell - but it was probably both. Arms crossed as she leaned against the door, and a small, amused smirk on her face as she watched your antics.
“Um, no, it’s fine.” You said shakily - or shyly, rather - smiling through your chattering teeth after you found where the voice came from. You spontaneity was probably enough of an inconvenience, booking an appointment late at night where it was the only time Ellie could fit you in - so it would have been rude to make her wait any longer than necessary to get the piercing done and lock up.
“I’m Ellie, by the way.” She called out, before making a beeline from the doorway to the small station at the end of the room, keeping her head down the entire time. You hummed in response, just barely suppressing the ‘I know’ on the tip of your tongue, as she rubbed some of the sanitiser in and put the gloves on. Then, Ellie paused her movements, back still turned away from you as she raised her head.
“Although….” You held your breath. You could feel the smirk on her faced despite not being able to see it.
“…I’m guessing you knew that already, Jesse told me some pretty girl wanted me ‘specifically’, to pierce her today…”
“What?” You stuttered out, mentally blaming it on the chill, and not your lack thereof. This time, Ellie snickered, shaking her head softly as she turned around heading towards you.
“So, you gonna stick your tongue out for me?” Grin still on her face, she watched as you sputtered out a reply while she haphazardly grabbed the forceps off the equipment tray.
“W-what?”
“You’re here for a tongue piercing, aren’t you?”
…That sly little shit
You could only nod, too taken aback to do much else. The most you expected here was to get a damn good piercing from a really hot girl, what Ellie was doing to you was not planned in your little outing.
“Yeah? So open up, hon. Gotta mark where you want it.”
Now Ellie knew that she didn’t need to mark anything - she was so used to doing this that she could just eyeball it and still be accurate. But, she thought, being able to cup your face, while you oh so obediently stuck your tongue out for her, as she just slipped her thumb ever so slightly into your mouth under the guise of keeping you still, would make up for the extra labour.
Your mouth was warm. Even through the black latex she wore. Ellie could almost imagine how soft it would feel sucking her dick, how delicate you’d be while kissing along the silicone. Fuck, she’d moan out loud if she wasn’t careful - all from the pad of her thumb resting on your tongue. And the way it twitched and made a swallowing motion as the bitter taste of the marker hit your throat really didn’t help.
“Hah…” You made a small noise at the prolonged moment. Surely the marker didn’t need this long to deposit a tiny dot pigment?
Ellie quickly snapped out of it, ripping her gaze from your mouth to your eyes. Right, she was still piercing you today, nothing else. And the taste of the marker probably wasn’t pleasant enough to be placed there for so long…
“Uh- so, ‘m gonna get the needle now.” She stuttered out, before making a joke.
“Last chance to back out…..or tell me if you’re squeamish….”
Fuck, the needle was kinda of big. Like, really big. Was it really meant to be that big? For a moment you hesitated, wanting to back out of this all and go home. But then you looked at Ellie, holding the forceps in once hand, reaching to grab the needle with the other, and you really wondered if backing out and embarrassing yourself in front of Ellie Williams - because of a fucking needle - was worth it. It would be over quick, right?
“Um, no- I mean-” you coughed.
“No, not squeamish, so, yeah, ‘m ready…”
“Yeah? Just uh, take a deep breath, ‘n stick your tongue out when you’re ready.”
You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and stuck out your tongue - just like Ellie said. For a moment, you flinched, feeling the cold press of the forceps clamping on your tongue, before you concluded that keeping your eyes open would lessen the surprises. In front of you was Ellie, although a lot closer than before. And this time, with the needle in her hand, facing you.
She nodded, for approval. And you could only look at her with wide enough eyes that you hoped conveyed your consent, before she slowly, and gently, put the needle through.
Now, if Ellie hadn’t been on the clock, if there weren’t a couple people at the register or a possible camera somewhere in the room, Ellie would have fucked you. She would have shoved the damn piercing in and shove you flat on the seat and she would have fucked you so hard you’d be numb the day after. But Ellie couldn’t.
Fuck, she wanted to, but she couldn’t. Because no matter how fucking hot you were, or how cute you looked staring so trustingly up at her with your cute fucking eyes while she shoved a needle in your mouth, or how your small breathy whine of pain when it went through made Ellie soak herself-
“I uh- ‘m gonna put the piercing through now. It’s gonna feel a bit pinchy for a second.”
She didn’t know if you wanted her back.
You scrunched your eyes a little, as the piercing went through, but discomfort finally turned into relief as you could finally put your tongue back in your mouth. Then it went quiet for a bit, the both of you not really knowing what to do next. Which was weird, because wasn’t Ellie used to doing this?
“Can I um, take a look?”
She stared at you, for a moment, almost like she was in thought, before nodding and reaching for the mirror and handing it to you. You held it up and stuck your tongue out once again. And, to your happiness, it looked really fucking good.
There was a chance you got a little too happy, however, as you smiled openly and started to almost flick your tongue about, looking at it from every angle imaginable. And maybe if you paid less attention to your new modification, and more on Ellie, you’d notice her focused stare on you. Well, your tongue, more like.
You’d have noticed her furrowed brows, deep in thought, her own mouth slightly open at the sight, and her fists clenching and unclenching, too. But you didn’t.
What you did notice, though, was her ripping the mirror out of your hands. Like an epiphany came to her about your piercing. She threw it on the table, making a loud clanging noise, before cupping your face with her hands on each side. She stayed like that for a while, staring at your now closed mouth and so close that you could feel her breath fanning on your face. And it took about five seconds before Ellie’s eyes widened and she realised how fucking weird she was being.
“Uh- fuck-” she began, almost like she was breathless. Her eyes flitted around the room and she shifted on her feet, until she could figure out what to say.
“Your piercing.”
“My…..piercing?”
“It’s crooked. Might be the backing but uh- I need to fix it.”
You raised a brow. Wasn’t Ellie mean to be a really good piercer? Maybe it was the piercing itself or something, you thought, as you nodded closely and opened your mouth. Slowly, you felt her right hand trail from your cheek to your lips, thumb pulling slightly on the bottom one before slipping her index into your mouth.
Shit, Ellie missed it so much. Albeit, it had probably been three minutes since she last had her fingers in your mouth, but it felt so good. Like they belonged there. She wondered how long she could keep this up, before you noticed what she was doing. She was almost worried you’d find out and get mad at her. But then she felt your tongue swishing along her index, and then she slipped her middle finger in too. And then, Ellie stopped giving a fuck.
And you couldn’t help but rest your cheek on the lasting hand on the side of your face, almost nestling into it as subtly as possible. Part of you knew this was unprofessional, that there were better ways to go about a fucked up piercing. But another part of you couldn’t help but like what Ellie was doing. And you couldn’t help but suck.
Ellie choked out a moan. She covered it up though, by talking.
“You need to stop moving. Here, let me just-”
“Ellie-”
“Shhh, don’t move.” She spoke so tenderly, almost whispering to you as her thumb stroked your cheek. Maybe it was the soft dominance she was extruding, or maybe it was because of how desperately fucking wet you already were. Either way, you listened.
You stayed still, as you felt the hand cupping you cheek slip down your jaw, and find its place on your throat. And you stayed still, as you felt her hand close around it and squeeze on either side.
“Can you stay still now, baby?” God, that made you feel fuzzy. That and the now limited blood circulation coming to your brain. Fuck, you never realised choking felt this good.
Ellie watched you, as your eyes drooped voluntarily, as drool started to slip out of your mouth while you were still sucking on her fingers. How you whimpered as her hold on your throat tightened - how your thighs rubbed together as she did that.
And you watched Ellie, through your hazy, droopy eyes, as her breathy pants got deeper, as she leaned even closer to you as her grip tightened, and as her eyes searched yours for some sort of response to a question she didn’t ask - but you knew she wanted the answer to. You sucked even harder. You let your tongue run along the ridged and bumps the gloves made on her finger. You swallowed so hard that her hand on your throat moved along in tandem.
“Shit- you- ohmygod-” Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she whined. She was pleading you at this point.
And you nodded.
…Fuck it.
“You wanna fuck?” She mumbled breathily, taking a long, condescending glance at your body - the state of your body - and then another at the lock on the door. Running a hand through her hair, Ellie took a deep breath, before letting out a loose chuckle.
“God- s’is so fuckin stupid…” She ran her tongue along her teeth, scoffing at how eagerly, how desperately you looked at her. And this time, she answered her own question for you.
“…..Yeah, let’s fuck.”
Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi
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moechies · 2 days
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toji’s puppy 🐾
toji’s puppy who has a bad habit of biting :(
and he knows that as your owner, it’s his responsibility to train his sweet puppy to be good, but he can’t resist when she acts like she’s done nothing bad, big weary eyes looking up at him portraying such innocence.
you’ve decided that begging for forgiveness was the way to go with him, and that’s what you find yourself doing each and every time.
so you settle down, the warmth of your mouth wrapping itself around his heavy cockhead; sloppily sucking and blowing bubbles onto his fiery tip, mewling out inaudible apologies.
and he falls for it every time.
。゚(゚´ω`゚)゚。
“m.. showwie..”
“f-fuckin’ minx.. shit.”
you stare up at him from below with glossy eyes, small hands pawing at the remaining length you had been unable to fit into the small of your mouth. the corners of your mouth burn from the stretch, but all is ignored to attune to your owner .
he looks as if he’d been punched in the gut, short beads of sweat that form on his forehead. one hand grips onto the flesh of the couch, other tangled in loose strands of your hair.
your mouth is sloppy, drooling spit that dirties and leaks all over his cockhead and onto your own hand. he scowls at the mess, but does nothing to prevent it; why would he? you occasionally pull yourself off of his length, pressing wet kisses and small kitten licks to his slit, watching it pulse with need.
“d-do you forgive me ?”
he scoffs, your audacity, he thinks. of course he does. how could he not, with your sweet demeanor and perfect pup-like eyes; anyone would forgive such a behaved puppy. but toji had no plans to let you know that.
“make me cum pup, ‘nd we’ll see.”
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girlgenius1111 · 1 day
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contact
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r has never been one for physical contact. she doesn't realize what she's missing until she does. barça x touch starved reader
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Your teammates had figured it out pretty early on. You didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t something you really liked to acknowledge. It was obvious, though, in the way you tensed up whenever anyone went to hug you, or the way you sidestepped the bulk of the celebrations on the pitch. You didn’t like physical contact, and that was fine. Your teammates could respect it, even if it wasn’t what they were used to at all. The majority of them were Spanish, after all. 
It never occurred to anyone that perhaps you didn’t dislike physical contact, you just weren’t used to it. At all. You’d grown up in an incredibly not affectionate household. Your parents didn’t hug you, and you never learned anything different from that. It was hardly your only issue with them, and it didn’t even occur to you to consider it an issue. 
You’d felt like this your whole life. You thought everyone did. You thought everyone felt this empty space inside of them, longing for something you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored the way that the infrequent pats on the back and high fives seemed to frustrate this part of you more. You decided it was a negative reaction to touch, rather than one that begged for more. 
Like everyone, though, you had a breaking point. And you’d been approaching it for a long time. 
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It wasn’t enough that you’d had an international break from hell, losing both matches despite you running yourself into the ground for a win. 
It wasn’t enough that you had to see your parents over the break. It wasn’t enough that they were uncaring and dismissive of everything you said, that they treated seeing you like an obligation rather than something they were excited about. 
It had been a long couple weeks, to say the least. And yet, everything you’d dealt with apparently wasn’t enough. 
As the defender plowed into you again, you wondered what you’d done to deserve this. No one had left you alone today. You’d been violently tackled, shoved, pulled, and stepped on more times than you could count today and you were at your limit. Everyone could see it, too, in the way you robotically got to your feet, blinking hard, trying to brush off this blow too. 
You missed Jona’s eyes on you, and the looks he exchanged with his coaching staff. You were supposed to play the full 90, and it was only the 70th minute. It was clear, though, that you couldn’t take any more battering, not that you’d ever admit that. 
When you heard the whistle signaling the subs were allowed to come on, you looked over, a bit surprised to see your number on the screen. You should have been relieved, probably, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. You jogged off, accepting the high fives Mariona offered you, though you ignored the way the contact almost brought you to tears right there. 
You walked over to Jona, as he’d called you over, even though you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the locker room and have a few minutes to yourself. 
“Are you okay?” He asked kindly. “Do you need to get checked out?” 
“No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.” You dismissed. 
Jona sent you a sympathetic smile. “You can head back in if you want. Let someone know if you need ice.” 
With that, you turned towards the locker room and headed inside. The next hour was something of a blur. You showered and got dressed, before heading out to the bus. You were quick enough that you didn’t have to interact with any of your teammates, and theoretically, you could have let yourself have a few moments. Something inside of you wouldn’t allow that, though. You were forcing yourself not to cry on instinct, but the more you sat by yourself, the worse you felt. About yourself, about how you’d been playing. Everything. It was overwhelming, and the minutes sped by until it could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t really care how long it had been. You just wanted to go home, so you could feel what you needed to feel, all by yourself, like you were supposed to. 
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You were too wrapped up in your thoughts, and trying not to cry, to notice that your teammates had started to file onto the bus. Esmee headed for you, both of you preferring to sit in silence on the way back from matches, while some of your teammates preferred to be a bit louder. As she got closer, though, she noticed the way you were sitting, all curled into yourself, practically a ball in your seat, and the way your entire body seemed tense. You were good friends, you and Esmee, but the girl felt wholly unequipped to deal with how upset you seemed. Thinking for a minute, she decided someone else would be able to deal with this better, so she turned around, ignoring the odd looks she got from everyone she’d passed on her way back to you. 
Esmee was still rather shy with the older girls, although they’d been nothing but nice to her. Even though she felt a little awkward, she walked right over to where Alexia was sitting, chatting quietly with Patri. 
“Alexia?” She said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the question but not really sure that she had any other choice. 
The captain turned to her, though, always a bit amused by how nervous she made Esmee, but always careful to not make her feel bad about it. “Hola Esmee.” Alexia greeted with a smile. 
“Hola,” Esmee replied. She looked back at you anxiously, and followed her gaze, sitting up a bit in the seat to look back at you, too. “Um… something isn’t right with her. She seems really upset. I didn’t really know…” 
Alexia’s brows furrowed, mentally cursing herself for not thinking to check on you before now. The team had noticed how tense and off you’d seemed after the international break, but they thought you’d relax after a game back with the team. Clearly not. 
“Thank you, Esmee, I’ll check on her, vale?” 
Esmee nodded gratefully, stepping aside to let Alexia out of her seat, taking an empty one across the aisle. She appreciated that Patri gave her a quiet compliment on the game she’d had, before pulling out her phone, and allowing Esmee the silence that the Spaniard knew she always sought after a match. 
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You were still completely oblivious, starting to get a little worried that you were going to cry right there on that bus, as opposed to once you’d arrived home, like you wanted. Crying in front of your teammates was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it when Alexia slid into the seat next to you. 
“Pequeña? What’s going on?” Alexia asked softly, noticing the way you refused to meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands fidgeting in your lap. 
You shrugged, for a minute unable to speak in fear that a sob would escape instead of words. “Long day.” You managed eventually. 
Alexia nodded slowly. “Long couple weeks, no?” 
“Yeah.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice cracked rather pathetically. 
“Can I do anything?” Alexia asked almost helplessly. You looked so upset, so fragile, and she wasn’t sure how to help without touching you. She knew she always liked a hug after a rough day, but you were so different, and normally shied away from contact like that. 
“I don’t know.” You said, wiping roughly at your face as a few tears escaped, the kindness from your captain not helping you keep it together. You wanted her to be able to help, but you weren’t confident she’d be able to. 
“Do you want some space?” Alexia asked, even if the idea of leaving you alone like this made her want to cry herself. 
You were used to dealing with your emotions yourself, but somehow, at the moment, you weren’t really embarrassed that Alexia was seeing you like this. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want her to go. “No, please stay.” 
“Nena… can I give you a hug?” Alexia asked after a minute, in a way that made it clear she wouldn’t be upset no matter how you responded. 
What did you have to lose at this point? You were pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse. So, for once, you did the opposite of what you thought you should do, and nodded hesitantly. 
It was instinctual for Alexia, and surprisingly for you, too. You were tense for just a second when she wrapped her arms around you, gently pulling you in closer to her. After a second, though, your body seemed to move of its own accord, completely melting into the arms of your captain. 
You were crying before you could stop yourself, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t bad crying, per say. It was cathartic. You thought briefly that this was the safest and most comforted you’d ever felt. Still, you tried to keep the volume down, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that you were sobbing into your captain’s sweatshirt. 
“It’s okay, nena, just let it out.” Alexia whispered, her chin resting on top of your head. She rubbed your back softly, hating the way you trembled against her. She’d never seen you this upset before, but the way you leaned into her told her that this had been coming for a while. It also told her that even though you acted like you hated being touched, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure why you didn’t allow it to happen, but it was clear you had needed it. “You are safe, nena. You are okay.” 
Her words felt like a soft blanket being wrapped around your shivering body, and you felt that empty space inside yourself feel full for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 
It made her heart hurt that she hadn’t thought to check on you, really check on you these past couple weeks. She had assumed that because you never talked about how you were feeling, you didn’t need to. She’d never considered that you did want to, and need to, but you were too afraid to do so. She made herself a promise to keep a closer eye on you. And to give you more hugs. 
Even when you’d stopped crying, and the bus had begun to move, Alexia didn’t let go. She kept you firmly in her arms, your head resting on her chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, either, even though you knew you should. 
You couldn’t help but feel sad when the bus pulled into the Barça parking lot. You’d acted completely ridiculously, and something like this could never happen again. You weren’t a child, you were an adult. The thought of removing yourself from your captain’s arms, though, felt physically painful, and you almost wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. Because now you knew what you were missing, and it would be near impossible to not let yourself seek it out again in the future. 
------
You showed up to the recovery session the next day on a mission. You were going to apologize to Alexia for what had happened yesterday, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. You weren’t going to cry and you were not going to act any differently than normal. You couldn’t let anyone see you as this pathetic person who was barely hanging on. You were strong and capable and independent. You were an adult, and emotions were to be felt by yourself. Hugs were for children, you reminded yourself, and you hadn’t needed one of those in a while. Or maybe, you just hadn’t gotten one in a while. Regardless,  by the end of today, you were dead set on making sure everyone who saw you so upset yesterday would know that it was a one time occurrence. 
Alexia had other plans. You really should have given up immediately upon seeing the determination on her face when she pulled you aside right before the film review session, but you were stubborn if nothing else, and you tried to remain as cool and calm as you could. 
Even when she led you to one of the lounge areas, and took a seat on the couch next to you. Even when she squeezed your shoulder supportively, and all you wanted to do was launch yourself across the couch at her, and curl up against her like you had yesterday. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. 
“I wanted to check on you after yesterday,” Alexia said gently, as if she knew you wanted to avoid this conversation. It didn’t matter that your captain hadn’t seemed to mind yesterday, your behavior still wasn’t okay, not at all. 
“I’m sorry for how I acted. It won’t happen again.” You said stiffly, ignoring the sympathetic expression on Alexia’s face. It made her so sad that you felt you had to apologize for showing emotion. 
“You do not need to be sorry.” Alexia said definitively. “You were upset, it is okay to be upset, pequeña.” 
“I shouldn’t have cried in front of everyone, and I shouldn’t have made you sit with me.” You insisted. 
The older woman frowned. “Why do you think either of those things were not okay?” Alexia wondered, choosing her words very carefully. 
“I am an adult, Alexia, I am not supposed to act like a child.” You argued, not really sure what she wasn’t understanding. 
Alexia knew she wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but she at least knew that it was okay to cry, and it was okay to need comfort sometimes. She wasn’t really sure why you didn’t seem to get that. 
“I do not know who told you that crying and needing comfort is for children, but they are wrong. You can always come to me, or any of the girls, when you are upset, no matter what you need. None of us will think any less of you. We are teammates, and friends, and we are here for you. Understand?” 
You were surprised at her words, and more surprised that they made sense. You knew who had told you those things, and you wondered why you had believed them on this, when you were normally so careful to take what they said with a grain of salt. Very suddenly, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had given you a hug, and things started to make more sense. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you, realizing that something they had done was not normal, but this was a realization that made you a bit more emotional than the others. 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to annoy anyone.” You replied quietly, looking down at your feet and away from Alexia’s kind eyes. 
Your captain shook her head firmly. “You could never annoy us.” 
Slowly, you nodded, accepting Alexia’s outstretched hand as she stood up and pulled you to your feet as well. 
You moved to walk back to the media room, but Alexia pulled you back, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” She asked, opening her arms for you. “It has been a stressful day. One of my teammates does not understand how much we all love her and it makes me very sad.” 
You rolled your eyes, feeling something deeply happy and hopeful bloom inside of you. You accepted the hug, falling into Alexia’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “She knows. I think she just forgets sometimes.” You murmured, your voice muffled in Alexia’s training top. 
“Well, we will just have to remind her then, yes?” Alexia said, voice filled with determination. 
And remind you, they did.
------
Their reminders, often unspoken squeezes of the shoulder and encouraging words, worked well. It wasn’t an immediate change, but rather a slow one. There were signs that you were opening up more. Everyone felt an inexplicable sense of pride when you did reach out to one of them, whether physically or more emotionally. 
The first time was when Mapi returned to training with the team for the first time. She had greeted everyone with a hug, turning to you and holding up her hands for high fives. She had long accepted that you didn’t like to be hugged, and she’d been relatively absent in the time that had begun to change. 
She was floored when you ignored her hands in favor of wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. It only took a second before she was returning the gesture, though she looked in surprise towards Alexia, who just smiled back at her. Two big steps were taken that day, and Alexia wasn't sure she could pick which made her happier. You were sure that Mapi’s comeback was the highlight of the week for everyone, while Mapi was pretty sure your hugs brought good luck, because training went perfectly, for you two especially. Or maybe, the joy on both of your faces lit up the pitch, and made everyone play better. Happiness was odd like that, sometimes. Contagious and healing. Barça was a place of happiness, you decided. And of healing. 
------
i know a lot of you were excited about this one, so i hoped it lived up to your expectations :)
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dead-end-draws · 2 days
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WOF tribe Merchant/Trading booth concepts:
Hey folks! This one was the recent winner of this WOF poll, so here’s my concept art that headcannons trading in Pyyria.
Read below cut for close-ups of the individual booths + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇
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Skywings: The Sky Kingdom’s mountain ranges provide plenty of pasture for raising sheep. As such, Skywing shepherds benefit from traveling to sell their wool, dyes, fabric, and woven tapestries. Many of these merchant tables also include herbs grown exclusively in the mountains, or ibex drinking horns that can be strapped on a dragon’s shoulder & carried in flight.
Along with goods, Skywing merchants may offer sewing services to fix tears, burn marks, or other fabric damage. They are sought out for their quality clothing, and most fabric across Pyyria originated from a Skywing’s talons.
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Mudwings: Mudwings’ abundant food & cooking skills are envied almost anywhere in Pyrria. Their swamps have fertile soil, responsible for hosting diverse crops which can be purchased as produce at merchant stalls. For those lucky enough to find a traveling Mudwing merchant, the promise of a delicious dish can be whipped up and served at the stall in no time. Along with produce goods, Mudwings sell weaved baskets, spices, and cooking ware.
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Sandwings: Sandwing booths offer luxuries of the desert: It’s most common to find accessories such as gold carved jewelry or musical instruments such as drums, lyres, & mandolins for sale. Though, even more sought out across Pyrria is Sandwing tattoos/piercings, which are done within the merchant areas. Ink etchings on papyrus paper are stationed outside their tents to showcase designs. All which can be selected, and poked into the skin with a tapping stick and plant dye ink by a trained talon.
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Seawings: SeaWings sell a variety of ocean related goods; taking a share in the fish market with Icewings. Outside of food, there are den decorations like driftwood carvings, accessories such as seashell & pearl jewelry, and rope nets weaved by expert Seawing sailors. Some Seawings even sell fishing equipment, canoes, or offer sailor knot tying instructions to curious dragon buyers.
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Nightwings: During the war, it was near impossible to find a Nightwing merchant. Most refused to participate in merchant territory, mostly as a way to keep up with their tribe’s mysterious nature.
Though in the more shady, unground parts of the market you can buy from a huge selection of obsidian weaponry, the sharpest in Pyyria. No one knew initially how Nightwings smithed so many weapons, or why, until their secret volcano kingdom and the intention to invade the rainforest was discovered. Then forging armor & weapons became clear. Along with a vast armory, for the right price, some Nightwing merchants offer Prophecies & Nightwing Literature (not always guaranteed to always be reliable) and assassin services as well (very reliable).
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Rainwings: Though Rainwings haven’t been part of Pyyria’s trading for years, they have a vast hold on dragon medicine. An apothecary of herbs, salves, and remedies are all offered for various ailments due to the rainforest’s abundant resources. Along with medicinal goods, many Rainwings are fruit vendors, promising to any hesitant meat-eating dragons that such an array of flavors isn’t to be missed. Though, their fruit selling pitches often fall flat to most other predominantly meat-eating tribes.
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Icewings: Icewings have everything a dragon could need to brace the cold, with a selection of goods only found in the most frigid regions of Pyyria. Furs, bone jewelry, and fresh fish (thanks to frost breath) are served on ice. Though Icewings themselves don’t require fur to withstand the cold, it’s considered fashionable and common in upper ranks to wear fur as a status symbol. Since metal is hard to smith without fire & in cold temperatures, fur and bone are more accessible to Icewings for clothing statements.
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marlenesluv · 3 days
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lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals
note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.
important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)
type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.
pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem
warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw
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۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.
۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.
۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.
۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.
۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.
۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.
۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.
۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.
۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.
۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others
f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?
view comments…
user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok
user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit
user77: isn’t she friends with kika??
user25: yes!
user3: he doesn’t look happy….
user90: meh
user41: looks forced
user2: my mannnnn
user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.
۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.
۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.
۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?
۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.
۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.
۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.
۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.
۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:
lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.
magui: oh…ok?
lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?
magui: i’ll ask kika
magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry
lando: ???
magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful
lando: she is
*lando has blocked this number*
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others
landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️
view comments…
*only certain profiles can reply to this post*
y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss
landonorris: smack me??
y/n.user: you posted my TOES
oscarpiastri: double dates?
landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling
y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes
lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞
danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it
carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!
charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!
savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!
landonorris: i will, don’t fret
olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.
۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.
۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.
۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.
۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.
۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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hedgehog-moss · 1 day
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In my neverending quest to keep Pampérigouste from achieving her dreams, I have launched a formal investigation into her last escape, which I had no explanations for at the time.
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I figured it out! At the far far end of her pasture, near the road, a few fence posts have become more or less horizontal (the ground is quite wet / muddy there so they've never been very stable, especially with Pirlouit using them to scratch his forehead)—so instead of a high jump + long jump combo to get to the road, Pampe just had to clear the long jump over the ditch. Which is still impressive.
I also suspect that she chose to escape from this place near the road on a snowy morning as a deliberate strategy, knowing the snow plough would erase any traces of her jump, thus preventing me from discovering where the weak spot in the fence was. Well done.
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You need 2 people to fix these fence posts so in the meantime I decided to kill two birds with one stone: cut all the broom and thorny bushes in this corner of the pasture and use them to form a discouraging barrier. I set to work earlier this week, and here's the same place as above, mid-process:
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When I texted my mum to tell her about my new thorn-based anti-Pampe plan of action, she said "Like the Maasai who make fences with thorny acacia branches to keep out lions!" and it made me feel even more confident. I mean, I have neither acacia nor Maasai fencing techniques but my thorny shrubs are pretty aggressive, they pricked my fingers even through my thick work gloves—which felt satisfying in an anticipatory way. Excellent! prick Pampe's nose exactly like this. How could a llama not be deterred by a fence material that deters apex predators?
Vexingly enough, she seemed quite supportive of my efforts. At one point she breathed some warm air against my shoulder in a gentle, patronising way.
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We were engaged in psychological warfare all afternoon—every time I stepped away from my vegetal fence, feeling like it was now good enough, Pampe would immediately come to inspect it, cheerful and impatient, which sapped my confidence so I would go and add a few more shrubs. (Note that I sort of plaited the first / biggest shrubs with the pre-existing fence so they don't go flying on the road, and so Pampe can't just push them aside.)
On the right: Poldine, looking for little fresh leaves to eat amidst the chaos. On the left: Pampérigouste, thinking.
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(At this point the barrier was only 20% thorns, and 80% broom—the fact that she waded through it without a care and didn't prick her belly made me go and add more thorny shrubs, and pack them more densely)
It's kind of fun watching Pampe think, honestly. Can I jump over this? Do I have enough visibility? Can I eat my way to freedom (again)? But these shrubs are disgusting. Am I above exploiting my daughter's lack of culinary discernment to achieve my goals? Maybe I should go back to my calculations re: probability of wild boar destruction. I may have pincushions for hands after handling prickly bushes for two hours but I'm helping stimulate my llama's intellect and creativity and that's so important.
I tried to alternate broom and thorny branches so that the non-thorny broom became tangled up with thorns and brambles to form an impenetrable and incomprehensible wall. I will call it this method the salmagundi-fence.
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Poldine is in awe of my vegetal installation.
Can I just say, compared to Pampérigouste who constantly has a devilish glint in her eye, Pampelune's face exudes wholesome politeness and moral goodness. It's still hard to believe they're mother and daughter.
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I went home once my fence started looking like Maleficent's forest of thorns and Pampe had long stopped trying to wade through it, but I still felt antsy and ended up coming back one hour later to have my apéritif with the llamas so I could keep an eye on Pampe until nightfall.
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... where is Pampe?
Oh. Here. No worries!
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Still staring at the road. Still thinking.
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...
With all that said, please admire my beautifully delirious Forest of Thorns-fence and let me know what you think.
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majestyjun · 2 days
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omFG WAIT NO MARK LEE BABY TRAPPING OMGGGGGG
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# mark + baby trapping !!
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tw. baby trapping, religion/god mentions (premarital sex), possessive mark, slut/whore used, umm… i don’t really write this but gave it a try for hon haha ^^ don’t like it, don’t read it.
mark’s fucked. like never before. he’s never sinned so much, ruined his holiness like he has in the span of an hour. and he’s a sinner now, broke and ignored god’s rules, hasn’t he? when he’s balls deep in your pretty cunt, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he thrusts hard, driven like there’s no tomorrow,,, and with this sin, there might not be, not with the thoughts he’s had tonight.
shouldn’t it feel wrong, wrong to have sex when you’re not married, when mark’s not your husband and you’re not his before the eyes of god, when he’s unable to keep the sinful thoughts to himself, because god’s laws forbid pleasure between two? because fuck, you’re his before him, euphoric, heated pleasure like nothing holy’s left, the way he’s ramming his hips into yours without an inch of space, gasping hot breaths on your shoulder as he groans and grunts without pause, cunt sucking him deliciously as your juices soak his cock, lewd squelches as his cock buries in your pussy, sinful sounds filling the air as your fingers rip at the sheets, clinging for dear life as tears spill down your cheeks and wet his bed, begging’ him for more, m-mark, mark, ‘more! it’s all you can possibly think about, isn’t it?
ah—fuck– ‘s good, feels s’ good– mark groans, unable to even think straight, shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have gone so far, shouldn’t be deep in fucking his girl’s pussy before marriage, an act meant to be for the ones bound by law, not only by love, but fuck, feels like love when your fingers reach behind and try to find his, clinging to his wrist as you bury your face into his sheets, should be so deeply ashamed of the way you’ve made such a mess over mark’s cock, should be embarrassed you’ve given your virginity up to someone who’s supposed to be holy but god, is he feral when it comes to you, bruises staining your skin in splotchy patches, spit wetting the bites on your neck and shoulders from his teeth, legs rendered numb and sore from the sheer force of his rough needs.
and god, the worst sin? the way mark can’t ignore the desire, the way he feels an unforgivable urge to fuck you up with his seed, knock you up and make you his, fuck the laws of marriage,, and the shame, the humiliation of being his before you’ve made it official with a ring? you’d never leave him, you’d be his, faster and now, not later the way you always laugh about, fucking ignoring how in love he is. mark knows, there’s no good reason you won’t be his now,,, and his cock twitches at the though of filling you up with his cum, when you tell him not to, when you’ve always said he can’t because you can’t risk it, not a child out of wedlock like a whore. but you’d marry him, wouldn’t you? be his the moment you share a life, in a rush so no one will know your sins with him, having sex before marriage like a slut.
and when your words fall deaf on his ears, the clench and spasm of your pretty body as your orgasm hits, whining his name as you come undone, mark’s thick cock buried in your warm walls as he cums inside, creamy white seed filling you up full like never before, your gasps pitching with confusion and shock, as he fucks himself through his high, cum seeping down your thighs with every thrust, making sure he’s filled you up deep. and mark’s done the unforgivable, hasn’t he,,, but god be damned, it feels good, feels so good to make you his now.
lol when i say i quit religion i meant it i can’t remember sht from being a christian anymore sorry haha this is wild
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Max Verstappen Shirt
The fans and fellow wags don't like it when she wears the same out fit to a Grand Prix. She doesn't much care
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There were quite a few things Max liked about dating an ordinary girl. 1) she had no idea who he was. 2) she had no idea who his friends were. 3) she didn't expect anything from him.
Max could get takeout for them while they watched a movie and she would be happy. He didn't have to take her out to fancy, overpriced restaurants. He didn't have to take her out shopping for a new outfit every time they left the apartment.
Now, Max would have done all if this I'd she asked. But she didn’t ask. She appreciated him the way he was.
It was a little while into their relationship before Max took her to her first Grand Prix. Her outfit was cute and extremely weather appropriate. A cute top and a cute pair of jeans. Max walked her through the paddock with his hand on the small of her back.
When Max won, he ran over to his team, jumping into their arms. And then he was taking his helmet off, replaced it with his hat and walked over to her, kissing her slowly. (It was captured on video, and circulated the Internet for weeks. Every time it came across her feed, she couldn't stop herself from sending it to Max).
At the next Grand Prix she dressed as well as she could. The jeans were the same, but the top was different. Her outfit was both complimented and criticised online.
Not that she saw the criticism. No, all she saw was the video of Max kissing her after his win. Of her wrapping her arms so tight around him as she peppered kisses all over his face beforing giving him maybe the most memorable kiss of his life.
She knew Max had money. She was aware of it every time she flew in his private jet. Every time she stayed in his Monaco apartment. Every time he drove her in his cars. She knew he had money, but she didn't want him buying her stuff.
No, that wasn't the reason she was with him. She wasn't there because he was an F1 driver, because he could buy her everything she ever wanted. She was there because he was a cute, slightly dorky guy that she wanted to spend every waking minute with.
She remembered the first time she wore the same thing twice to a Grand Prix. The outfit was so cute, but it didn't matter how cute it was.
So far, all of the other wags had been so lovely to her. They were kind, but she hadn't been around long enough to really be friends with any of them.
It was Daniels girlfriend that pulled her to one side before the race. The two had spent the most time together out of any of the wags she had met so far (aided by Maxs friendship with Daniel).
"Hey Love," she said, wearing a charming smile as she wrapped her arms around her. "I love the top. Have I seen it before?" Daniels girlfriend asked.
Y/N couldn't help but grin as she looked down at her top. "Thanks!" She grinned. "Found it really cheap, wore it to Monaco," she said.
Daniels girlfriend sucked in a breath. "Well, as a general rule, Wags don't wear the same outfit to two grand prix," she said, her hand on her shoulder. "Not unless they really have to."
The way she said it, she was clearly implying something. But she wasn't the only person thinking it. There were people online saying the same thing.
"Well, nice catching up," Daniels girlfriend said and walked away, leaving her alone.
She couldn't bring herself to look dejected as she walked back to the Red Bull garage. Unlike other Wags, she didn't have the funds for a new outfit every race. Max would have been only too happy to buy her a new outfit for every Grand Prix if she asked.
But she wouldn't ask.
"What's up?" Asked Max as she walked towards him with an unintentional pout on her lips.
She quickly replaced the pout with when she looked up at him. "Nothing," she said. "Just hold me."
Doubt and all kinds of negative feelings consumed her. But she was a fighter and she needed to do something about it.
There are incredible things you can find on Etsy, like This Shirt Right Here. She bought herself one. No, she bought herself five. The first time she turned up wearing one, it was iconic. The second time she went to a Grand Prix wearing one, it was still iconic.
If the wags and the fans had a problem with her wearing the same thing to each Grand Prix, they could suck her dick.
883 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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deliveries
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words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.” 
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod. 
“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
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hwaflms · 3 days
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ nct dream reaction to you touching yourself!
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‧₊˚ 💭 ✩彡 , , 2.5k, smut under the cut [cw: masturbation, degradation, voyeurism, fingering, very mild dubcon in jaemin’s, nudes, allusions to phone sex, established relationship in most, i think that’s it]
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♡ mark . . . the poor baby had just gotten back from practice and was nearing the bedroom door when he heard some sounds of what he thought was you in pain or distress. being the sweet boyfriend he was, he hurriedly went to open the door, but the sight that greeted him was certainly not one he was expecting. you were laid out on the bed, your pants pulled only halfway off your legs as if you were too desperate to even bother taking them off fully, a hand stuffed in your underwear as you threw your head back and let out the prettiest sounds, looking so blissful and fucked out. your eyes shot open at the disturbance that was mark's arrival, the light blush coating your cheeks nothing in comparison to the bright, tomato-red one that decorated his. "fuck, um– i'm sorry, lemme just– i'm just gonna go", he mumbles his way into the bathroom, bumping into the door while trying to enter, but you both knew he looked for too long. now what was he supposed to do? it's not like that godly an image of you is going to leave his head anytime soon, no, of course not, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it for days, weeks, months even. sprawled out on the bed like that, lips parted and letting out such dirty, magical sounds– fuck, he couldn't help letting his hand travel into his pants in a similar fashion to you. before he knew it, he was jerking himself off to the thought of you (something he had definitely done before, but he had some wonderful new material now), pumping his cock up and down while his breathing became laboured, but in all his haste and pleasure, he had "forgotten" to lock the door. "um, need a little help there?"
♡ renjun . . . you thought renjun texting you “pleaseee baby, come over tn” meant that the two of you would spend time together until you eventually fell asleep, which did happen for a while until your boyfriend excused him to go play “one game with the boys”. though you rolled your eyes at him, you were fine with him playing a game or two, figuring you could just be on your phone for a bit. you weren’t, however, expecting to be sat on your phone for over an hour, with renjun now having his headphones on (you don’t know what the point was, though, you could still hear all the slurs being shouted mutedly from them). “renjun”, you grouched, but he doesn’t even turn to face you. “if you wanna leave me for a man, just say that.” he does laugh at this, but he pleads “one last one”, making you sigh and slump back down on the bed. you had chosen the pretty, new lace underwear you had bought the other day to wear tonight, but now you’re too salty to let him take it off you. deciding to take matters into your own hands, you shimmy out of your shorts, rubbing circles over your underwear with your eyes trained on his back. if he was too busy to touch you, what’s stopping you from doing it yourself? you try and fail to stifle your moans with your arm as you slip your hand into your underwear, rubbing your clit for a moment before dipping your fingers into your entrance. “renjun…”, you call out again, but both of you know it sounds different this time, and he glances over his shoulder at you. it’s almost comical the way he does a double take, pushing his headphones off of one ear, to get a clear look at you. slowly but surely, the tips of his ears and cheeks are dusted with red, but his eyes still shyly observe the hand concealed by your underwear. “oh…”, he sounds out while you throw your head back and whine, his headphones now fully off and you could hear whoever he was on call with distantly calling out “renjun? renjun, what the fuck we’re losing?” he shuts off his computer screen without even looking at it, getting up and slowly walking over to you, sinking down on the edge of the bed. “you just gonna sit there or you gonna help me?”, you grumble, but his eyes don’t miss the way your hips buck up. “wanna watch.”
♡ jeno . . . you swear you had meant to wait for him to return, you had tried your best to busy yourself while jeno was at schedules. he had told you the exact time that he would return, no earlier, no later, than 7:30 p.m. and there he was, promptly unlocking your front door at 7:29 p.m., expecting you to be reading a book in your room, or baking brownies-for-one in your underwear in the kitchen. he definitely wasn’t expecting the sight that greeted him. he had given you one rule for when he was away at work, to “not touch what’s mine”, one simple rule. you seemed eager enough to please him before he left, so he certainly wasn’t expecting to hear moans coming from the kitchen. he watches you for all of five seconds, back facing him with one hand disappearing into the waistband of your shorts, head thrown back a little as you leaned against the counter. “what are you doing?”, the sharp, gruff way in which he says it make you stop immediately, yanking your hand out of your shorts and holding it behind you. it was one thing if you were pleasuring yourself in the bedroom, but right out here? in the kitchen? jeno promptly walks over to you, reaching over and clasping the hand behind your back tightly, jerking it over to him. your fingers all but glisten when held under the ceiling light, and your cheeks redden at the short “pathetic” he spits while looking at you. not breaking the heavy eye contact, he closes his lips over your two fingers, swirling his tongue around them before releasing them with a ‘pop!’. the next thing you know, your face is being pressed against the cold granite surface of the counter hard, while jeno’s other hand holds both your wrists together behind your back. “you know how to count, right?”, he asks demeaningly, and while he lets go of your head, your cheek is still pressed against the counter so hard you can see the condensation form as you breath, nodding your head before he yanks your shorts down with such force that you can still feel the burn on your hips five seconds later. he places the palm of his hand flat against your ass, pulling your underwear up to reveal more flesh. “i’m gonna show you what happens to whores when they don’t follow a simple rule.”
♡ haechan . . . “well, well, well," you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, tone dripping, pouring with desire, just sounding so sultry. your eyes shot open at the sound of him, squealing shortly and rushing to cover yourself up with the blanket. "what do we have here?", he cooed from the door, one foot in front of the other and a hand placed against the doorframe, leaning against it. "f-fuck off, hyuck", you replied breathlessly, cheeks dusted with pink due to your embarrassment and also the rush you were feeling from touching yourself. he wasn't supposed to be back so early, you thought you were going to be alone for a little while longer; clearly you were wrong. "fuck off? did you mean 'fuck me'?", he drawled, letting out a half scoff and half chuckle, slowly sauntering towards you. “why don’t you show me what you were doing there?”, his suggestion sounds more like an order, and its like you lose the ability to think when he reaches over you to lead the hand straying away from your pussy right back, inclining his head to the side expectantly. under his urging, watchful eyes, you continue your previous actions, eyes widening when hyuck lets out an almost pornographic moan at the sight. sinking your fingers deeper into yourself, you whimper out of pure frustration from the fact that these were your fingers instead of his, and you swear you are almost in tears when he says, “stop”. he’s quick to replace your fingers with his own, coating his digits in your wetness before pumping two into you without any warning. “think you can give me three? maybe four orgasms?”, he cooes, tutting when you shake your head ‘no’. “i think we’re gonna find out.”
♡ jaemin . . . “aren’t you sweet?”, to say hearing your roommate jeno’s friend’s sultry voice startled you would be an understatement, fully believing you were home alone when you started pleasuring yourself. “jaemin– what the fuck–”, a blushing, bumbling mess, you’re quick to yank your blanket over your partially naked body, not knowing how long he’d been standing there watching you or how he had gotten into your house in the first place, choosing to ask about the latter first. “how the fuck did you get in? and did no one ever teach you how to knock?”. tilting his head to the side, jaemin raises his eyebrows but makes no efforts to hide the way his eyes scanned over your blanket-covered body, tracing your hips, collarbones, legs with his gaze. “jeno gave me the keys. and that’s not fair, the door wasn’t shut. besides, you called me”, he replies coolly, taking a step into the room but leaving the door wide open, as if you invited him in. “i heard you call my name in that pretty little voice of yours, but i thought you were hurt. didn’t think you were fucking yourself with your fingers to the thought of me.” you move to further cover yourself up as he walks closer to you, embarrassed out of your mind that he both heard you moan his name and watched you touch yourself. but what he does next really has you shocked– eyes never leaving yours, his hand snakes over to his pant-covered cock, gripping it with a satisfied hiss, a smirk curving on his lips when he sees your look of surprise and…desire??? “you see how hard i am for you, pretty?”, he all but moans out and you do see, the outline of his cock straining against the material of his sweatpants and making your mouth almost water at the thought of it. without another word, he’s in front of you, pulling his raging boner free from his pants. “what do you say we give jeno a little show when he comes back?”
♡ chenle . . . “damn, you started without me?” after enjoying the dinner you had cooked for the two of you, you suggested taking a shower together before slipping into bed to watch a show. following the routine that you had wherein one of you would cook and the other would clean, chenle grabbed your plate and his, placing them in the sink and telling you that he’ll be there in about ten minutes after he finished washing the dishes. figuring you could just get undressed and enjoy the extra space in the shower before your boyfriend joined you, you opted to start without him, but leaving the door unlocked for him. the second the hot water hits your body, you are relaxed, letting it soak your hair and cover your body. you trail your hands along your body to further spread the water, but soon you can’t ignore the dull thud coming from your core when you reach your inner thighs. grazing your fingers against yourself and testing the waters, you slowly begin your ministrations, spreading your folds with more intent now. another two minutes in and you’re blatantly touching yourself, head resting against the glass of the shower, steam engulfing its expanse while you sigh out of bliss. chenle, having left the dishes to dry, decided to join you, ridding himself of his clothes and finding the bathroom door to be partially open. when he’s greeted by the sight of you, your back is facing him, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand what you were doing. when you finally hear his voice, you look over your shoulder in surprise and slight embarrassment, but that is soon replaced with pure lust when your eyes mirror the look in his. “thought i’d get a head start”, you offer, slowly picking up the pace with your hand. “is that so?”, he muses, placing his hand over yours but not stopping your actions. “we both know that i can make you cum much faster than you can.”
♡ jisung . . . when you first started dating your boyfriend jisung, you didn’t realise just how much time you’d be spending on your own. if he wasn’t away at practices, he was busy filming various videos and content, so a large portion of your day was spent waiting for him. this was not to say you were unsatisfied with your relationship, you still got to spend time with him and when you did, it was time well spent. all you were saying is that you got a little lonely and bored at times, and that would explain why you were currently standing by the sink, debating whether you should hit send. you had just finished taking a couple photos of yourself during a moment of confidence and horniness and now they sat in the message bar of yours and jisung’s dms, waiting to be sent. you and jisung had gone there multiple times, but nudes were unexplored territory, yet you thought, fuck it, and hit send. even though you know he’s busy, it doesn’t take long before the ‘delivered’ changes to a ‘seen’, and you watch as the typing bubbles appear and disappear a number of times. after five minutes or so, you’re starting to worry and overthink, biting your lip when you see that jisung is now trying to call you. you pick up and play it off with as much confidence as you can, but jisung sounds the opposite– breathing heavy and voice quiet, like he’s trying to make sure no one hears him, and you hear the sound of a lock clicking. “why would you– are you–”, he blubbers, clearly at a loss for words and you can just picture him, cheeks coated with a sheen of red, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing. “what are you doing right now?”, he asks in a goofy manner and you can’t help your chuckle at the sound of his shy voice, cooing into the speaker. “i was missing you, sungie…”, you mewl, positively beaming when you hear him audibly gulp. “was thinking about you.” his breathing quickens and he mumbles “thinking of me?”, before he clears his throat. “what about me?” you smile at his inability to balance his shyness and desire, and you tell him what you were thinking about, soon hearing the telltale sound of a zipper being pulled down.
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hanasnx · 2 days
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b.....baby daddy...... baby daddy gojo.....
“ARE WE DATIN’? ARE WE FUCKIN’? ARE WE SOMETHIN’ IN BETWEEN THAT?” — satoru gojo.
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MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | dom satoru | established relationship | explicit sexual content | p in v | daddy kink | size difference | lactation references.
BABY DADDY!SATORU GOJO has a severe lack of boundaries, but in his defense he’s always been like that. Before the pregnancy, before you found out the news, before you were dating him, it’s all the same. He doesn’t see the need for it and there are times—especially now—when it’s simply inappropriate in the highest form.
“You ready to go, kiddo?” he asks, perky with a big grin as he eyes his son through his eye wrappings. The boy nods determinedly, bounding away while his backpack that’s too big for him weighs him down. For a second, he watches him run off to spend the weekend with his dad, and you observe him do it with a comfortable smile on your face.
He catches you, but instead of teasing you about it, he shoves a thumb over his shoulder. “Can’t believe that came outta you.” he jokes, and you nod along, aware to just go with his little quips until he decides to leave. “You look great.” He gestures to your form, head-to-toe, and you roll your eyes at his attempt to flatter you like the other moms do. How they dote on you to tell you you’re so lucky that you’re back to your old body after a baby. Some change permanently. “You been working out? Seriously.” he continues on, and you catch him when he slots into you, wrapping arms around each other in a familiar side-hug. His hand feels big on your back as he strokes it.
“Oh, Satoru, stop it.” you respond, devoid of conviction. It’s been years since your son was born, and it’s been a while since you and Satoru had to part ways, yet he talks to you like nothing’s occurred. Like you’re still friends, like you’re still lovers. He squeezes you and you playfully push him off. “Now get outta here, he’s practically bouncing off the walls to spend time at Dad’s.” You gesture to your son, who trips in his excitement, only to pick himself up just as quickly to keep running aimlessly.
“Would’ja look at that. Tough kid, just like his momma.” Satoru muses, and you scoff through your nose as he faces you, sticking his tongue between his teeth. “You got a goodbye kiss for Daddy?”
You sigh, resolved, and roll your eyes again. He’s so full of it. You concede anyway, innocently offering your lips to him.
You should’ve remembered that when Satoru gets an inch, he takes a mile, leaning down to meet your gift with pliant lips. At first, it’s chaste as expected, but he tilts his head. That arm around you traps you against him, and you make a noise of distress when he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue in. It’s not supposed to go that far, yet he continues, slithering his tongue over yours like he’s done a thousand times before, and the sicko actually sends a pleasurable tingle down your spine. Gathering your bearings, arching away from him, you shove at his chest, freeing yourself. “Satoru!” you chide, and he snickers at you. You’ve kissed him hello and goodbye before, completely respectful and quick. Pecks, really. This was a full-blown french, and you eye him incredulously.
“Is Mommy and Daddy getting back together?” the slurred words of your son can be heard, and the two of you face him as he peers at you two with wide eyes.
“Look what you did! You confused him.” you admonish in a hushed tone, hitting the chuckling Satoru as he downs the steps of your front door to join his son. “Make sure to explain yourself to him, Satoru.” you iterate, shifting your weight to your hip as your cross your arms.
“I will.” he replies in a tune, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. He idles a second, side-eyeing you over that shoulder slyly. “Mommy.” Your narrow your eyes at him with a shake of your head, but he merely continues on. “See you Monday~!” he adds in a much more lighthearted tone.
Monday couldn’t come fast enough but you didn’t know that after Satoru dropped your son off at school, he was gonna pay a little visit to you. You especially didn’t know what that visit entailed, you didn’t know you’d jump at the opportunity to scold him for the stunt he pulled, only to jump at the chance to get more. Things are hard lately, it’s lonely being a single-mom. Even though Satoru’s involved as he can be, it’s not like you get time for a dating life. He’d shown clear interest in you a couple days ago, shoving his tongue back in your mouth where it hasn’t been for months, now he’s shoving his cock where it hasn’t been for the same.
“Actin’ like you missed Daddy.” he remarks with that self-satisfied grin you wish you could smack off. He’s fucking with you while he screws you for real, that cock you miss so much hollowing out your insides.
“Cut the shit, Satoru, and just fuck me already.” you demand, fisting the covers to your bed as he’s got you on all fours.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking.” he replies, a leisured pace to his hips as his hands clutch the plush of your hips. To rush him, you back up on him until the sounds of skin on skin fill the room. He doesn’t wait for you to answer him. “Why not make another one?”
“Sato, quit playing around—“
“No, I mean it.” he insists, that signature grin stretching onto his features as his hands clamp down on your flesh. He inclines forward, driving into you at a reckless pace that causes a choked sound to emit from your throat. “C’mon, think about it.” he says just as your brain begins to fog from a fat cock shoving its way through your pussy. “We could make another one. We make such cute kids together, you know?” Your spine’s arch is so low it aches as his strength overpowers you, squeezing your eyes shut while he fucks you hard. “We’d be doin’ the world a favor. ‘Sides, you’ll look cute again all filled up with my cum.”
You whine, burying your face in the mattress as you claw the sheets. The pain and pleasure between your legs makes a mess, dripping down your thighs as he hits it from the back.
“Tits all swollen with milk. You remember when I drained some of it for you?” The memory bubbles up mixed emotions within you, sighing into the covers. “Drank it all, ran down my chin, they were so sensitive, always making little noises while I sucked on your nipples. Don’t be shy, baby, I know you liked it.”
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princessbrunette · 1 day
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i want jj to try and teach me to play some horror video game but everytime i jump in his lap and unintentionally grind into him, he’s just losing interest and slowing become preoccupied with touching all up on me instead of focusing on the game
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“why is it so dark?” you giggle, guiding the character you’d picked out through the abandoned hospital. it takes jj a moment to respond, because his eyes are located on the way you’re split open on his lap— tiny booty shorts doing very little to contain the globes of your ass, the perfect outline of your pussy pressed directly to his bulge through his basketball shorts.
“uh,” he scratches his head behind his ear, forcing his eyes back onto the screen. “you can pull out a flashlight, press square.” he instructs, feeling the weight of your head drop to look down at the controller in your hands before successfully demonstrating what needed to be done on screen.
“yay!” you chirp, shifting around on his lap forcing your crotch to slightly grind against his— yet you were too focused to acknowledge it. jj on the other hand winces, playing it off as a cough as he pushes himself up a little higher, having sank down into the couch.
“uh-huh, yep — good job babe.” he congratulates, whipping his hat off for a second to run a hand through his hair. you’re locked in, wide eyes staring at the screen.
“oh god, i’m scared.” you moan as your character pushes open double doors into a dark hallway. your body tenses up in fear and he swears he can feel you clenching, the fabric of your shorts so thin that each pulse and movement can be felt through his own.
“you got it.” he drawls lazily, accepting his fate as he can’t control the boner he feels forming beneath you. he lulls his head back against the couch, once hand still placed lazily on your hip as he awaits the scolding for distracting you whilst playing the game. it doesn’t come, instead — the suspenseful silence is replaced by a loud crash on the screen and your squeal, jumping on his lap. you fidget, practically rocking back and forth on his growing bulge as you panic, slamming your fingers into buttons and nearly breaking the joystick on the damn controller to get out of there as soon as possible.
“oh my god, oh my god!” you pant, whimpering in fear sounding uncannily similar to how you do when you’re close.
“my thoughts exactly.” he strains, eyes squinted as he tries to hold you still — damn near cumming in his pants. it’s only when your character is back to safety, you crane your neck around with a proud grin at your own skills in the video game. as your senses return to you, you give a little wiggle and a frown appears on your face, doe eyes blinking at him innocently.
“uh, hey there mama.” he greets awkwardly lifting up a hand.
“are you hard, jayj?” you mewl quietly and he winces through his teeth, pushing himself to sit up a little higher and reaching between your layers to finally adjust himself in his shorts, caught out.
“look, i… promise you i wasn’t plannin’ on that happening it’s just— you sat on me and it was fine but then you started movin’ around n’stuff— and then there was the whimperin’ and my dick was like BOOM. good morning— y’know?” he gestures, scratching beneath his nose nervously. you climb off, only to restraddle him front on.
“why didn’t you tell me? would have stopped playing the game and started playing with you.” you smile sweetly, beginning to grind down on him. his jaw drops, releasing an exhale he felt liked he’d been holding forever— hands sliding up your body to touch your torso all over.
“god damn… i — uh, i’ll make a note of that. for next time.”
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slytherinslut0 · 1 day
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not to be horny on main or anything because i’ve definitely never done that before but i truly think everyone wants to fuck mattheo riddle until that man has fucked you three times in one day and still wants another round because he genuinely just can’t get enough of your body like literally the man just needs to be inside you like he’d fucking perish off the earth if he went longer than a few hours without burying himself in your warmth and even though you’re starting to get sore there’s simply just no goddamn chance you could ever resist him because the way he’s cooing filth in your ear about how he’ll be gentle and how he’ll fuck you slow as he has you pinned underneath him with both of your wrists held down against the mattress while he nips and kisses and sucks at your neck is enough to shatter your resolve and empty your brain of any rational thoughts replacing them with none other than pure primalized lust and without even realizing it you’re quivering and whining and begging him to get back inside you.
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thegnomelord · 1 day
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if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots
The boots better be shining when you're done.
How To Cure Zombies 101
CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.
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When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.
When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.
You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.
You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.
And now?
Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.
And the way to do it?
"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"
That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.
You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.
Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.
Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.
You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.
It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.
You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.
But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.
Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.
He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.
You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.
Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.
You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.
You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.
You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.
But the third time. . .
You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.
He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.
Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.
You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.
Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.
He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.
You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.
His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.
Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.
He's looking straight at you.
You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.
Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"
His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.
Fuck. You are a fool.
A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.
His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.
Your name rights through the room.
It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.
You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.
He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.
Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.
A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.
He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,
"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"
His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"
Taglist: @dead-end-stuff
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