#so on attempt 2 he’s still gonna give in as much as possible

[cicadaknight]

Durge Timeloop: Hadrin

Half-Elf Drow | Monk (Four Elements)

Honor Mode Attempt #1 | 5h 26min

Cause of Death: Angry Gnolls

Dark Urge Influence: Powerful

Companions Lost: Gale, Karlach

[maxtermind]

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[dwaekkicidal]

Lessons

˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3

OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.

And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.

His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”

“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.

“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’

“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.

“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.

“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.

You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds. 

Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.

By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.

“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.

You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.

“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”

“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull. 

The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”

When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.

As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.

“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.

You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.

“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.

You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[helluvapoison]

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk need help preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[ii]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Lilith used help… when she was around. The thought of asking someone else, much less the act itself, scorched him with guilt

• Oh well. Lucifer did it before, Heaven had rules about it, so he can do it again! And of course he did! It doesn’t mean it’s not an excruciatingly long process he puts off as long as he can tolerate

• You walk in on him attempting to strain his arms in ways they certainly shouldn’t bend. “Need some help?”

• “Pfft, who me? No, no, no I—“ He pauses. It’s like the predicament he’s been caught in settles in slowly, his smile dropping and crimson irises widening to rival a puppy’s cuteness. “Yes.” He admits meekly

• Your fingers barely touch his feathers and Lucifer jolts. Like him, his wings are so sensative

• Don’t take it personally when he tries to back out after that, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. He has six wings and can barely tolerate your touch as is. This could take a while, he already feels bad

• After a teaspoon more of convincing and a gallon of reassurance later, Lucifer sits as still as he can (which isn’t very) while you gently break open the pin feathers

• You could tease if you wanted, make a joke to try and settle his nerves but something tells you his wings aren’t the only thing that’s sensitive

• Lucifer appreciates your assistance and tenderness more than words can describe, nothing seems like a big enough gift to reward your hard work

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Usually it’s Lute that would help him (and vice versa if he feels like it) but she’s nowhere to be found. He can’t casually ask anyone else. Heaven and its inhabitants can be weird about certain shit, preening is no exception— even though everyone has wings here!

• Walking past Adam’s office, you heard a crash and a lot of swearing. “Sir, are you—?”

“Unless you’re gonna help, fuck right off!” He growls from the ground, still reaching at an awkward angle for his wings

• He’s shocked when you sit on your knees beside him and swat his hand away. “If you make this weird, I will leave.” You warn. He doesn’t dare make even a single comment

• Adam shivers when your fingers glide into his feathers. You wave it off the first time but can’t stop a laugh when it happens again

Face first into the carpet, his loud voice is muffled, “Shut! Up!”

• You take pity on him and don’t drag the process longer than necessary. Awarding yourself a final pet of his oddly soft wings, you stand up, “There. All better?”

• Rising to his feet and giving his wings an experimental stretch, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Thanks. I guess.”

• The next day, you receive a basket from Goody-2-Shoes with various snacks. The card reads, ‘Let me know when I can return the favor. Wings don’t have to be included. ~ A’

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• You know she needs help when she’s more irritable than usual. Snapping at everyone, even Adam, and flinching when her wings move in the slightest

• Approaching the subject with her is harder than anyone. As aforementioned it’s unspokenly taboo but that isn’t what stops her. Lute’s deep rooted issues with intimacy and needing help will make her walls thicker than ever

• “This is inappropriate,” Lute whispers.

In the dead of night she’s finally allowed you to assist but keeps fidgeting and surveying the area like someone will catch you two.

“It is not,” You roll your eyes, “Get your mind out of the gutter and be still! I’ll have you’ll feeling better in no time.”

• She seriously, seriously doubts that. Anything she can’t do herself, amongst certain divine exceptions, no one could do for her

• …But she’s letting you help (and your adept fingers are doing a better job) So either she doesn’t fully believe that, or you miraculously raised her expectations

• Lute decides the latter is acceptable– and a compliment, especially since you prove her wrong. Triple checking her wings, she can’t find a flaw or deny how wonderful they feel now.

• “This is adequate.”

You snort, “You could just say thanks?”

“How can I repay you?”

“I just told you.”

• She narrows her eyes, shocked and suspicious that you wouldn’t want anything. Lute, again, decides that your endeavor deserves an equal act of goodwill. Don’t take it for granted when she says, “No. I owe you one. One.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• She genuinely forgets what’s wrong with her when she needs to preen. Even with her wings folded away, the irritable pricking can be felt. She’s itching the back of her neck, hand clawing under the crew of her shirt and dipping between her shoulder blades when you ask when’s the last time she checked for pin feathers

• Vaggie’s always been independent. Up in Heaven she was a bit cocky with the fact she never needed help to reach them. Now, she felt helpless and stupid. Her arms cramped up, her hair kept getting in the way and the itching only progressed

• “Can I–?”

“No.” Her ivory eyes go wide, surprised at the fury of her own voice. Sighing and avoiding your (what she assumed was a) pitiful gaze, she apologizes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I… I used to be able to do this alone.”

Pausing at how defeated Vaggie sounds, you do your best to keep a positive, neutral tone.

“Cut yourself some slack, you haven’t done this in years. And, y’know, you don’t have to do it alone now. Not if you don’t want.”

• Smiling at the offer hanging in the air but not quite accepting, she goes about her managerial duties only to knock on your door afterwards

• Vaggie’s so grateful you can’t see how dark her face becomes as you sort through her wings. They’re not sensitive, they never were– it’s something about your fingers delicately touching her that cracks her resolve. Now she starts to understand why this was seen as an intimate act upstairs

• “Thanks for…” Still blushing, she gestures to her wings before hiding them, “Thanks.”

You try to keep up with her indifference but can’t help the smile spreading across your face.

“No problem.”

• If you think she’s not replaying the moment over and over in her head for days afterwards, you’re wrong. Vaggie’s desperately waiting for the moment to be just as useful to you

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He’s hardly a fan of Angel touching him the way he does so a solid relationship is required to unlock the level of trust needed for this activity

• The first time it happens when you’re in his life, he won’t ask but also doesn’t reject the offer. Just looks extremely hesitant and uncomfortable

• Carefully, you pinch the rough layer and eye Husk from over his shoulder

• He breathes out a laugh, “Gonna take more than that to hurt me, sugar. Go on, I’ll be fine.”

• His wings might be the least sensitive… but that could also be all that alcohol in his system

• Husk hums as you work. After he gives a big, cat-like stretch and thanks you with a tip of his hat

• The simple gesture means more than you know, he’ll never forget it

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ accidentally on purpose put them from most to least sensitive wings hehehe

big big big BIG thank you to @kottenox for the inspiration and letting me take this idea and run!

[softlandos]

the moment i knew | lando norris

summary: the one where you win the british grand prix instead of your teammate and you both face the harsh realities of falling in love with your rival

warnings: angsty!! and sad lando :( lmk if you want a part 2!

inspired by lewis’ win at silverstone and these videos of sad lando :(

a/n: this is my first ever fic! please please please let me know if you like it!

The roar of the engines was deafening as the Silverstone Grand Prix reached its climax. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, watching two teammates battle it out for the lead. Lando Norris was in P1, but you were hot on his heels, fighting for every inch of the track.

Lando, leveraging his years of experience, expertly defended his position. He loved the challenge you presented, finding it exhilarating to duel with his teammate, especially someone in just their second season.

"You're not gonna pass me that easily," Lando smirked, his voice crackling over the team radio as he blocked your latest attempt to overtake. He was enjoying every moment, the thrill of the race coursing through his veins.

But you were relentless. Spotting a gap, you pushed your car and yourself to the absolute limit, probably destroying your tyres in the process. With a bold move, you managed to squeeze past Lando, your car sliding into the lead.

"Damn it!" Lando cursed, his frustration evident. He had given it his all to defend that position, and yet, you found a way through. It was a testament to your skill and determination, especially impressive for a second-year driver.

"Let's goooooo!" you shouted into your radio, exhilaration filling your voice.

Lando rolled his eyes at your celebration, but deep down, a part of him was proud. You had shown incredible tenacity and skill, but he wasn't going to let you stay ahead without a fight. He began pushing his car to its limits, determined to reclaim the lead.

"Lando, she's degraded her tyres trying to get that spot," his race engineer informed him. "She’ll have to pit soon."

A smile spread across Lando's face. Your aggressive move had come at a cost, and now he saw an opportunity. With your tyres wearing down, he could catch up and potentially reclaim his position. He pushed his car even harder, closing the gap between the two of you.

However, as he tried to overtake, he recognized something familiar in your defensive maneuvers. You were using his own techniques against him! He couldn't help but feel a mix of annoyance and respect. It was clear you had been watching and learning from him.

"Damn it, she's really good," Lando grumbled to his engineer, the frustration evident in his voice. "She's using my own moves against me!"

His engineer's calm response came through the radio, "Her tyres are starting to wear down. You can get her in a few laps. Play it smart, and we can win this race."

With renewed determination, Lando pushed his car to the brink. On social media, fans and commentators buzzed with excitement, praising the intense battle between the two teammates. They lauded your skill and determination while acknowledging Lando's impressive defense.

"My tyres are getting destroyed," you radioed to your team, the strain in your voice clear.

"We know, keep it cool for now," your team responded, trying to calm your nerves. "Lando is catching up, but your tyres are still good. Defend as much as possible and wait for the right opportunity to pit for fresh tyres."

With only a few laps left, you made a bold decision. "No pitting," you declared firmly.

Your team was thrilled. "We hear you, no pitting! Let's do this! Last four laps, give it everything you got!"

As the laps dwindled, the tension was palpable. Lando was right on your tail, and the battle was fierce. At the pit wall, your team joked, "On a scale from 1-10, how pissed is Lando right now?"

"Ten, definitely a ten," they laughed. "If he wasn’t so focused on racing, he’d be ripping his hair out right now. She’s making things so difficult for him!"

With every turn and every straight, the race to the finish line was a testament to skill, determination, and sheer willpower. The battle between you and Lando was one for the ages, a true Silverstone showdown.

"GUYS IM SO CLOSE!" you shouted, the excitement in your voice unmistakable.

At this point, the entire team was cheering you on over the radio, clearly thrilled by your determination and skills.

With two laps left, the tension was at its peak. "Two laps left, you can do it!" your team encouraged.

The entire team was on the edge of their seats, watching the race with bated breath. As you entered the final lap, the energy in the paddock was electric. "LAST LAP!” your team shouted in electric excitement, then quickly adjusted their volume. “Just one more lap, you can do it! Go, go, go!”

With sheer determination, you crossed the finish line first. "I DID ITTTTT!" you screamed into the radio.

Everyone in the paddock erupted in celebration. "YOU DID IT! YOU WON! CONGRATULATIONS!"

The celebrations continued as everyone was ecstatic about your victory. "That was amazing! You were incredible out there! We're so proud of you!"

"FIRST WOMAN TO WIN A GRAND PRIX!" someone shouted, and the cheers grew even louder.

You were so excited that you almost crashed driving to the P1 spot. "Woah, woah, take it easy! Save the celebrations for later; we don't want you crashing on national television!" your team cautioned amusedly.

After three victory laps, you finally drove up to the P1 spot. Standing on your car with the flag in your hand, the crowd erupted in the loudest cheers imaginable. "She's done it! She's made history! The first woman to win a Formula 1 race in history!" the commentators screamed.

Lando was the first to congratulate you, sweeping you up into a massive hug and lifting you off the ground. "You did it! That was amazing, I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Lan," you replied, your heart full.

Next in line was your idol, Lewis Hamilton. When you saw him, you almost broke down into tears. He laughed and smiled, knowing what this moment meant to you. The moment went viral online as he pulled you into a hug.

"Congratulations, kiddo. You deserve it. That was an incredible drive, and you made history today. I'm so proud of you," Lewis said, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug.

You couldn't process any of his words, just squeezing him tighter.

He chuckled, understanding your emotions. "Take it all in, kid. This is a moment that will go down in history. You've done something incredible today."

The Silverstone Grand Prix had not just been a race. It had been a battle, a triumph, and a historic moment that would be remembered forever.

After the victory celebration, you found yourself back in the paddock with Lando. The adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off, leaving you both a bit exhausted but still elated from the excitement.

"Wow," Lando spoke, a tired smile on his face. "That was one hell of a race. You really did it, you know? You made history today."

"… Hey, Lan?" you said quietly.

He looked over at you, his tired eyes meeting yours. "Yeah? What's up?" he replied softly.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," you said, knowing he was devastated that he didn’t win. The moment made everything slow down, and it felt like it was just the two of you in the whole world. You were crossing a line you had both avoided until now.

His expression changed to surprise as you called him out on his emotions. He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. "You caught me, huh? Well, yeah, I'm a bit disappointed that I didn't win. But seeing you get that victory? It's hard not to be happy for you." He let out a soft chuckle. "You deserve it."

"Lando..." you sighed, seeing the depth of his disappointment and struggle.

Lando sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I know. I'm trying not to let it show, but deep down, I am disappointed. It sucks when you're so close to the finish line and then suddenly, bam, you're not the one crossing it. But hey, that's Formula 1 for you. Sometimes it goes your way, sometimes it doesn't."

"You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to give me that media-trained PR answer either. We’re not in an interview."

Lando dropped his media-trained mask and let his guard down a bit, revealing his true emotions. "You're right," he admitted. "It sucks. I wanted that win. I wanted it so badly. I feel like I let my team down, let myself down. It stings."

"I’m sorry you feel that way. And it hurts knowing that I’m..." you stopped yourself, not saying what you wanted to, knowing it would change everything between you forever.

Lando looked at you, his exhaustion replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern. "What? What were you going to say? You can be honest, I can take it."

"You can fool everyone else, but not me," you said, knowing he understood. Suddenly, the world seemed to stop. You were both so deeply in love, but equally as in denial, refusing to show it. It felt like you were towing the line.

Lando felt his heart skip a beat as you saw through his façade. He knew exactly what you were insinuating. His mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions – the weight of his disappointment, his desire to win, and now, the overwhelming feelings of love for you. In that moment, it was undeniable. He looked at you, his eyes holding your gaze for a brief moment before looking downward with a mix of fear and vulnerability.

"I’m sorry you’re hurting and that no one else around you can see it," you said softly, your own pain evident in your voice. "But I can’t comfort you." You wanted to say "I love you," but the words stuck in your throat.

Instead you said, "I can’t make my moment about you."

Lando nodded, his expression softening with complete understanding. He appreciated your empathy and knew he couldn't expect you to shift the focus from your victory. “I know,” he responded gently. “And I don’t want you to. This is your moment, and I’m happy for you. You deserve all the celebration in the world right now.”

“Just...” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Just because I might not show it, don’t think I don’t notice. I see everything you’re going through.” “Because I love you,", the words echoed in your mind.

Lando's eyes met yours, filled with unspoken understanding. “I know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with vulnerability. “I know you do. And I notice everything about you too. Maybe one day we won’t have to pretend anymore.”

Your breath caught, and you stared at him, the weight of your unspoken emotions hanging in the air. It was a moment that felt almost cinematic, full of intensity and unvoiced feelings. You cleared your throat, trying to shift the focus. “About the race, right! Yeah, um. One day we won’t have to pretend to be happy when we’re upset about losing a race.”

Your heart ached. You wondered if he meant one day you wouldn’t have to pretend that you didn’t love each other. If only you knew you were right. The double meaning of your words felt heavy.

Lando nodded, sensing the depth of your hidden conversation. The tension between you was palpable, but you both knew you couldn’t act on it now. There were too many eyes watching, too many expectations. “Right,” he echoed, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “One day. But for now, we have to focus on the present. And right now, that means celebrating your incredible win.”

“...Or, not celebrating, if you don’t want to. I get it.”

Lando shook his head, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips. “No, no. I want to celebrate. I may be disappointed, but I’m also genuinely happy for you. You worked your ass off for this, and you absolutely deserve it. I’ll be there, cheering as loud and as proud as anyone else.”

The moment faded away, another one locked in a vault that you would probably never have the bravery to reopen. Lando quickly composed himself, returning to his usual self, though a hint of your emotional connection still lingered in the air. “Alright, then it’s settled. You go out there, and we’ll enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it. We’ll talk more later, yeah?”

"Lan-" you stopped him, all of your love on full display in your eyes.

Lando stopped in his tracks as you called his name, turning to face you. The look in your eyes was undeniable, filled with unspoken emotions. His heart clenched as he met your gaze, the unspoken love and understanding between you stronger than ever. It was as if the world had frozen for a moment, leaving you standing in a private bubble of your intense connection.

“Yes?” he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation and vulnerability. He knew what you were trying to say without speaking aloud. He felt it too. But he couldn’t be the one to break the boundaries you had set. It had to be you.

"I love you," you said in your mind. Instead, you uttered, "Um, enjoy your... evening?"

Lando felt a pang in his heart as you hesitated to say what you both knew was true. He could read the words in your eyes, even if you didn’t say them. But he understood why you couldn’t. Not yet. He knew in his heart that he loved you just as fiercely, but you were both scared of the ramifications. Instead, he gave you a bittersweet smile. “Thanks. You too. Enjoy the party. You deserve all the celebration.”

Your heart broke.

Lando reached out, his hand briefly resting on your arm in a silent gesture of connection. But words were pointless. You both knew how deep your feelings ran. It was something you’d have to address another time. “We’ll talk more soon, okay?” he said softly, his eyes full of emotion.

"About what?" you let your helplessness about your feelings slip out and instantly regretted it.

Lando’s breath hitched as you let your frustration slip out. He knew exactly what you were referring to, but you both knew now wasn’t the time to discuss it. You were surrounded by people, cameras, and the pressure of your careers. “You know what,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “Just… just be careful, yeah? Make sure you’re taking care of yourself amidst all this chaos.”

Your heart hurt.

Lando could feel your pain in his chest. He longed to hold you, to comfort you, but you were trapped in your own cage of circumstances. You both knew the power of your feelings for each other and how risky it would be to give in. “Look… I know it’s tough,” he said quietly. “But we have to be smart about this.”

Your breath hitched, and your heart raced. He wasn’t pretending right now. "Can we just-" you stopped yourself, your heart so heavy it might give out. "Just for one day? Can we pretend the world doesn’t exist?" you whispered. Your heart physically hurt from how much you needed but couldn’t have him.

Lando’s heart leapt in his chest at your hushed words, a flicker of hope igniting within him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if you could cast aside all your worries and fears and simply be together in the way you both longed for. But as quickly as the hope flared, the weight of your reality crashed back down around you. He sighed, his voice filled with sadness.

“We can’t, love.”

Your heart broke. Shattered. It wasn’t elegant. He could see the shards and blood and pain in your expression, and he hated that he caused it. There was no hiding it; your eyes always told him what he needed to know.

You nodded as you walked away.

Lando stood there, his heart throbbing with anguish. He watched you walk away, the pain in his chest growing with each step you took. The weight of your unspoken emotions hung heavily in the air, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. He felt frozen in place, wishing he could take back the words that had broken both your hearts.

lmk if you want a part 2!! (it’s already written and super fluffy, but i cant decide if i should post it. spoiler alert: they get their happy ending)

reblogs are appreciated as i just made this blog! <3

[pinkslaystation]

No longer a memory [Simon 'Ghost' Riley]

You are reading: [Part 2] Read [Part 1] here! Word Count: 1.4k You viewed Simon as your friend, but clearly he did feel the same.

When Ghost was asked about his emergency contact, he mentioned Soap's name.

"You can't put down another soldier, mate. Gotta be yer ma or summit." His higher-ups informed him.

"Why no'?" He grumbled, leaning against the wall in the dingy office.

"Wot if you're on a mission with 'im? Wot if he's injured too? Hm? Just do me a favour and put down yer missus, will ya."

Ghost rolled his eyes in annoyance, slamming the door shut as he walked out. With an important mission coming soon, it was vital that everything was in order before they left.

He just doesn't get it. Why does a skilled killer like him need an emergency contact? He's only been fatally injured once, and when they contacted his previous emergency number back then, was it really a big deal with someone at the nearest Maccies picked up?

Gaz frequently laughs at him, "Tried to call your mother, ordered a quarter pounder instead." It's a running joke in the team.

Ghost skims through his phone contacts, and he's embarrassed to see how few numbers he has: 5 being his teammates including Gaz, Soap and Price, one being KFC, one being his mother which he had saved under Slag. He scrolls up and down rapidly, debating to himself, should he just give them a fake number?

No...they'd find out again.

He clicks under the spam numbers.

His eyes shift to a familiar number.

It was yours.

The monotonous ticking of the clock paired with the irregular typing of the keyboards were burnt into your brain unknowingly. You've lost count of the number of days you've been in the menial job now, your first job since graduating university. How long have you been with that company, 2 years? 602 days now? You're counting the days 'til the weekend but even during that, you've got no one to come home to.

What a pathetic life.

Sometimes you wonder what Simon was doing in that exact moment was he working like you? Was he also in London? Did he...think of you, the way you think of him? It's possible he's forgotten, I mean after 5 years you've lost contact with the majority of your classmates- so much for best friends for life.

You check your phone, 9:28 P.M. 2 more minutes and you're running out of there.

By the time it hits 11 P.M., you're tucked away in bed a movie playing the background as you're aimlessly listening to reddit stories on TikTok whilst watching a minecraft speedrun.

You switch to using Instagram, by that I mean stalking. Your friends seems to be growth further away from you, one sending you an e-invite to their wedding, one welcoming their 1st child into their families, and yet you're still hung over about the last day of secondary school. The way the last time you had seen him had been in form, when he glances at you walking in late. The way his hands would purposely linger against yours when you were asked to hand out sheets to the class.

The mere thought of him jolted you. That, and the sound of your phone ringing.

It was an unknown number.

There's a hitch in your breathing. Was this a sign? What's the phrase, speak of the devil and he has appear? Was it perhaps...Simon?

You wait for a minute before picking up, not wanting to come across as desperate.

"...Hello?" You murmur.

"Hey." The voice is harsh and cold. It reminded you of Simon.

"Simon?" You whisper, a smile appearing on your face.

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"What? No- Alan. From Accounting. You left some documents here at work, they seem important. You gonna pick 'em up?"

You blink. Once again your're stuck in another fantasy. In what world would it be Simon? The man who couldn't even reply to your texts in summer holidays. The man who wouldn't even attempt to return a full smile when you locked eyes in the corridor. The man you shouldn't have feelings for. Because, well, it's not like they were ever reciprocated.

What a pathetic life.

Alan, the dickhead from Accounting interrupts yet again. "Yo, you there? Wan' me to bin them?"

You sit up in your bed, sighing deeply uncomfortable, "Pull up your pants man, I'll be there in 30, Jesus. Just leave them on my desk."

Question. What's short but intense, most people dislike it, but you find it thrilling? One would think a conversation with Simon. But the answer is: London traffic.

You'd assume the usually busy roads to be dead and empty at 11:30 P.M. ish, but you're heavily mistaken, my friend. Seems like London nights are the life of the party. Driving past busy clubs and lit up pubs, whilst listening to One Of The Girls by The Weeknd [SUCH A GOOD SONG-] made you feel like a movie star in a coming of age film.

One where the guy gets the girl.

Of course, the majority of the drive you've being beeped at, or you're doing the beeping, but it's what really appealed to you when making the move to the heart of London. Life moves on whether you want or not, might at well be at the capital of England. Though sometimes you feel you're more likely to run into Simon in the north...

By the time you reach the entrance of your workplace, you begin regretting your outfit decisions, making eye contact with yourself in the reflection of the glass doors: A black hoodie and flared joggers. Nothing wrong in the clothing of course, but compared to the Data Analysts and Investment Bankers that are judging you right now, it makes you feel like the smallest person in the room.

Just a elevator ride up, grabbing your shit, another ride down, brisk walking to the car, and you can go back to the comfort of your bed. Easy, no?

You're in the elevator finally. The weird look from the receptionist really was the cherry on the cake.

Soon enough, the doors open again at the 9th floor, and you're met with the dark room of your department, which only had 2 of your colleagues slaving away at their desks, one which you're 99% sure is rotting away as they type on their keyboard.

You briefly nod at the two as they look up from the elevator doors opening, to which they returned.

Where's that file, where's the fucking file. You mumble to yourself, sifting through all the papers from your desk. The rotting lady looks up to you, shushing you for the noise.

Yeah, if only you had the courage to shush your toxic-ass husband...You think. Soon we'll hear your reddit story next to some trashy ass run on Subway Surfers on Tiktok...

The way down the elevator was excruciatingly slow, which was odd considering it was working perfectly fine 5 minutes ago.

The doors open again, at the 8th floor and 3 analysts walk into the once quiet elevator, and now you're face to face with the loud chatter of clients, and business meetings and...who left a mess in the men's toilets...

A phone rings again, and the analysts all search their coats, thinking it was theirs.

Not me.

Neither.

How is there service in this elavator-

Someone coughs, and you open your eyes from drowsiness, the 3 business musketeers silently urging you to pick up your from and rid them off that irritating ring tone.

Silently apologising, you bring your phone out of your hoodie pocket. It's another unknown number.

With no hesitation this time, just pure frustration and fatigue, you pick up the call, "Alan, I swear to God, if you're calling me again-"

Correction. There is service in the elevator. It just wasn't good.

The line breaks at the other person on the phone speaks.

"He- Co- It's an emergen- He- -mon Ril- -jury-"

"Huh?" You respond, partially not hearing as the line breaks every now and then. but also because the other 3 people decided it was okay to talk on full volume.

You try once again, "I'm sorry I can't hear you."

"Missi- crash- 3 dead- -husba"

You snort, you wish these 3 analysts were dead right now-

"-Rile- Come- t- -ocation- sen- -by text- -sband-"

The line goes dead, and you're stuck staring at your phone with more confusion than you had started. Husband?

What was that? Wrong number? No, they had addressed you by your full name. You couldn't hear much, but from what you gathered...an emergency? I mean, that alone you could tell from the shrill from the speaker's voice.

The elevator door opens again and this time, it's the ground floor and all 4 of you walk out. It looks like the scene where the rich, popular characters make a grand entrance, straight out of a K-drama, except one person clearly missed the memo about dressing formally.

You check your phone's call log, debating whether to call them back.

Before you can lock your phone and shove it back into your phone, it dings again, a text from the very number. They've given you a location. A quick search on your phone, shows you google images of an army training ground. You check the time. It's just past midnight.

Looks like you're going on an adventure.

The drive to the army grounds was shorter than Google Maps had said, and now you're parked on the side of the roads waiting for the gates to be opened.

Theories are racing through your head right now, who do you know that's in the military currently?

Your coworkers? No.

Your university friends? No.

Your secondary school classmates? No.

Simon? Can't be.

The gates open, and you drive to the 2 men standing by the doors to the building, one is dressed like a doctor, the other? Like Stalin.

You get out of your car worried, "Hi, someone called over the phone?"

"Aah, yes. Mrs Riley. A pleasure to meet you. I mean I didn't think you were even going to come." He turns to the doctor.

You don't fail to hear the words exchanged between the both of them.

"What if she works at Maccies as well...she's dressed like it-" he murmurs, smiling at you widely.

The doctor on the other hand, seems to be more tense about the situation, "Sir, can we just send her in already, it's 1 A.M., I got a family to go home to-"

"Wasn't your wife cheating on you though-"

"Sir- How do you know- Okay, Miss. Mrs... Riley, was it?" The doctor turns to you.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "No. Um, no. My first name's not Riley, it's-"

"Will you just follow us. Please."

The inside of the building was almost the opposite than the outside, a loud brightly lit environment with crowds of doctors and nurses rushing around, compared to the silent dark grounds.

"Sorry, where are we going exactly?" You question, as the two men walk in front of you.

"You're handling the news better than I expected, Riley." The military leader (?) notes.

What news?

"What news?"

There's no follow up answer, instead they lead you to a quiet corridor, just outside a room, to which they gesture you to open. The doctor reads from a file, "He's going to be fine, just a few cuts and bruises-"

You interrupt, "I'm sorry?"

"What he's trying to say- we found him unconscious, seems like he inhaled too much of the gas. Thought he was in grave danger. Wasn't responding to anything. Broken rib cage, but he'll be fine. He always is, this man."

The doctor agrees with the solider.

"Indeed, a few months of bed rest, and he's be back in better shape."

The two stare at you, as you look at them with an unreadable expression.

"...And...I'm here because?"

They share a confused look.

"You're his wife, no? His emergency contact? That's what Simon said at le-"

"Si-Si-Simon?"

One second you're at home, the next you're a work again, and now you're in the bathroom with your head in your hands, sitting on the toilet lid, panic pulsating through your blood. For some reason, you can't find it in yourself to tell the truth, that you're not Simon's wife, so instead you pussied out and excused yourself to the nearest bathroom.

The good thing is, the 2 men believe you're crying over Simon's injuries, the bad thing is that he's awake. And he's been made aware of the call to his emergency contact: his wife.

"Good to say you mate. Called your wife. Sensitive one, that. Rushed-"

Simon breaks out of his dazed look. "Wife?" He barks.

The doctor shares a knowingly glance to the solider, Simon's higher up. "Yes...the one under your emergency contact?"

"Wot- Oh. Er- Yeah." Simon clenches his jaw, rubbing his temple, "Did she pick up or sum-"

"No Simon, she's here. In the bathroom."

The minimal colour in Simon's pale bruised face drains out in a click, and he's staring dead straight in front of him. For a second, no one talks, there's no movement, not even a breath is exhaled. Simon's not religious but he prays the 2 can't hear his beating heart thumping rapidly.

How was do when he sees you? A smile? A wave? A 'haven't seen you in so long'? No...he selected spouse when he put your number down for his emergency contact, if anything, he's got a role to act in front of the staff and higher-ups.

There's a knock on the door that breaks the silence. The door creaks open awkwardly, and a small head peeps out.

Simon's breath hitches.

When your parents instructed you to get out fairy land, you did. You were called delusion by your friends throughout adolescence, and you're teachers feared your expectations in life were always too high.

You remember the first time your parents told you the story of how they met. In your mind it was a romantic story, two doctors meeting together for the first time in the hospital, locking eyes and blushing furiously when their fingers touched through gloved during a high-risk heart transplant surgery. So when they mentioned that it was mere 'marriage of convenience' type relationship to you, your belief of love at first sight hit the iceberg of reality and sunk. Sunk deep.

So mustering the courage shouldn't be that difficult, right? Love doesn't exist...

The first step into the hospital room felt like walking into every exam hall you've ever entered in your entire life merged into 1...times 10. Nerve-wracking was an understatement.

Your goal was to just lie and act at his wife, play pretend and hope Simon plays along with it. It's all acting.

A marriage of convenience, you could say.

"Hey, Si-"

Your breath breaks, cutting off your own words as your eyes lock with Simon's. The room seems to shrink, and the bustling noise from the hospital corridor fades into the background. Simon's gaze is intense, his usual stoic expression softening for a brief moment. It's something the doctor and the soldier haven't seen, given the 5 years of knowing SImon.

He reaches an arm out, without speaking a word.

"Oh, erm." Taking his hand, he gently drags you, motioning you to sit on the chair beside his bed. Small electric shocks course through his fingertips and into yours, a warm feeling bubbling through your chest, and you can't help but smile at the way his eyes lock onto you, as his fingers gently caress your hand.

Simon’s grip tightens ever so slightly as you sit down, his touch simultaneously reassuring and questioning. You swallow hard, nerves prickling your skin. It feels like a minute has passes by the 2 spectators in the room feel like their watching a slow-burn romance movie.

The soldier clears his throat, breaking the silence. "We’ll give you two some privacy," he says, gesturing for the doctor to follow him out. As the door clicks shut behind them, the heavy silence continues to fall over the room.

Simon’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, a gesture that feels both foreign and familiar. His mask of stoicism cracks, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath. "I didn’t think you’d come," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. Your heart rate increases with every word he speaks, the hints of his northern accent peaking through the harshness of his voice.

You smile. "Well, here I am," you reply, attempting to sound casual despite the thundering of your heart. "Guess I couldn't ignore the call of duty." Your attempt of a pathetic joke makes him grin.

Simon interlocks his fingers with yours, and you swear your body changes to manual breathing. "SImon...You don't have to act, they're not here..." You mumble.

Simon chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually so guarded, now seem to search yours for something unspoken. "I'm not acting... and...I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What for?" Both of your hands gently hold Simon's and you notice the way just one of his hands dwarf both of yours.

"That day...the last day. I tried to come, I swear, love. I was late-"

"I waited for you Simon." You blankly state. Simon freezes at the slight frustration in your voice, "I waited so long for you, hell, the teachers nearly kicked me out."

Simon nodding understandably, grinning slightly at the thought.

"I know. I asked our form tutor, missed ya by 15 minut-"

"Then why didn't you call me Simon? Hm?"

The lack of response let's you continue, the heat from your hands warming Simon's.

"I called you, I texted, I reached out to your friends-"

"-but it's difficult when I had none, right?" Simon cuts you off, his eyes urging you to look at the situation from his perspective, "The moment I saw you in that classroom on that first day, you were the only person that smiled at me. When I forgot my lunch, it was you that shared with me by your desks. Fuck, it's always been you, and I was too fucking embarrassed with myself to even be around someone as perfect as you."

Simon squeezes your hand as he continues.

"I didn't want you to be seen with me, because...you deserved better, love. You've always had. Good grades, good school, good life, didn't was you to be dragged down by a dick like me." He huffs out, turning away, "Signed up for the military that day, y'know. Remember when you said you wanted to just give up on your dreams of uni and jus' join the army. Just use all your frustrations on a gun or sumthing... I bulked up over that very summer."

You stifle a warm tear as it escapes and runs down your cheek.

"Wanted to be someone for you, swear down. So I signed up for the military...and I- that day. I was going to tell you...and ask you out."

Raising your eyebrows, you feel the atmosphere shifting, he continues.

"Yeah," Simon chuckles, reminiscing, "Wrote a letter cos I didn' know how to get my feelins across. But uh, I was too late. And when I asked your friend, and they told me you were moving out for uni...I just thought it was better to let my feelins die out. Didn't wan to drag you down any further..." He mumbles the last part.

A mix of emotions flood through you as Simon's words settle in the room. The weight of the years apart, the misunderstandings, and the unspoken feelings hang in the air. You take a deep breath, wiping away the tear that escaped earlier.

"Simon," you begin softly, your voice trembling with a blend of sadness and hope. "You never dragged me down. If anything, I felt lost without you."

Simon's gaze shifts back to you, eyes searching for any hint of resentment or anger. Instead, he finds warmth and understanding, a look he's not seen in years. "I thought you'd be better off without me. That you'd move on and find someone who could give you everything I couldn't."

"But I never wanted someone else," you confess, your voice firm despite the quiver in your heart. "I wanted you, Simon. Even when you weren't there, I kept hoping you'd come back. Do you know how many times I've looked at my phone hoping it was you that was calling me?"

Simon laughs, moving ever so slightly closer to you, his thumb continuing to stroke your hand, his touch grounding you both in the present moment. He takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I'm here now," he says finally, his voice steady. "And I'll call you ever chance I get. Don't want to waste any more time."

You squeeze his hand in response, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Neither do I."

Simon presses a chaste kiss against your forehead and you lean against him.

"The name Riley really does suit you, y'know." Simon whispering into your hair.

"One step at a time, Si." You whisper back, burying your smirk into the crook of his neck.

Maybe your parents were wrong, maybe love at first sight does exist.

Outside the room, the 2 men straight in awe at the couple. The doctor sighs, "No more trouble in paradis-"

The solider nudges the doctor, "You wish that was you, huh."

me rn

tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @chessecakelover, @owkittie, @cheomain, @corvusmorte, @k4es, @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese, @yyiikes, @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk, @spankmydepression, @yourfavbabigirl

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3

Part 2

Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!

The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”

“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”

“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”

Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”

Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”

“Ah.”

Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.

“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.

Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.

“Your Dad?”

Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.

“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”

Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”

“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”

“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.

“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”

Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”

Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.

“So, con artists or mad scientists?”

“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.

“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.

“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”

“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.

“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.

“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.

“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”

“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”

“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”

Part 4

[bunnisari]

can you write one when its like, reader x plug!connie where they like toxic off and on, but he still spoils her and all that because they in love fr. he's like a real jealous type and is lowkey overprotective. but they always together and spend alot of time with eachother

No matter what you were always gonna be Connie’s.

No matter how many times you guys “broke up” you still belonged to him and everyone knew.

It was hard to strive as a now “single” woman. All of your old hoes were wiped off the face of the earth somehow (thanks to Connie). Any new guy that has the potential of being just a one night stand was scared away by a pair of emotionless eyes that stared you down from across the club.

Every night out with your girlfriends was ruined, any attempt to hook up with someone. ruined

Connie was everywhere you were. You blocked him on every social media, but he still created more accounts just watching your page. He also had eyes on you everywhere. You’d often see some of his most trusted guys at the mall, updating him on your safety.

His friends are so faithful to him it’s frustrating. Your bestfriends were his bestfriends, due to the fact that you were always around you all just became so close!

But when you have a girls night out with Mikasa and Sasha they are always cockblocking for connie.

“That guy was a dick Y/N”

“I dunno maybe you should just get back with Con”

Everyone around you did nothing but encourage you to get back with him, even your parents!

They love having him around and he’s excellent help in the kitchen!

Connie is fairly toxic but you won’t really notice until you think about it.

He’s got himself so involved in your life and everything you do, people can’t help but ask about him! And that was what he intended to do.

There was no possible way you could forget him, he was everywhere. You broke up with Connie but Connie didn’t break up with you.

You lasted 35 days and 45 minutes before getting back with Connie. Ever since you “broke up” with Connie, you’ve been focusing on a clothing line you’ve been wanting to release. You gave up on trying to go out and find simple one night stands. You were fairly sex deprived but didn’t give in. Nothing a vibrator couldn’t fix.

You were over men and their stupid ass inconsiderate ass feelings. Connie didn’t stop taking care of you though. You’d get random paypals and cash apps from Armin or Eren. $850 - FOR from Connie :)

You still were extremely grateful though. This particular night you decided to go to a party Ony was throwing. You were going out for yourself tonight, plus you haven’t popped out in a while gotta keep these bitches hatin

You walked through the entrance of the house, “Way 2 Sexy” blasting through the speakers.

“Heyy sexyy” Sasha drags out as she wraps her arm around you, holding a cup in her hand. You hug her back with a smile on your face, ready to get wasted.

After many mixed drinks and a blunts worth inside of you. You stumbled to a bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You lip synced to the song that was playing from downstairs, checking yourself out in the mirror. Your eyes were red and low, all your movements sloppy.

As you re-applied your lip gloss, a deep voice spoke out to you.

“You’re avoiding me” You jumped at the sudden voice, thinking you were in the bathroom alone. You looked back in the corner of the bathroom, seeing Connie lean on the wall. He looked good as always.

“Connie just go” You mumbled in irritation, not wanting to give into the man in your drunken state.

“What did I tell you about watching your surroundings mama, hmm?” Connie stepped closer to you, “Didn’t even notice me following you. How are you supposed to stay safe princess” Connie fake pouted at you, looking down at you with pity. You could reject him all you want but your face told it all, you missed him so much.

“Sshut upp” You slurred, attempting to walk around him and out of the door.

“Talk to me” Connie’s hand gripped your waist, pulling you back in-front of him. “There’s nothing to talk about, we areee overrrr” Your own eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry mami,” Connie cupped your chin, making you look up at him, “Just take me back. I promise I won’t fuck up anymore. I swear i’m going crazy without you, I can’t stop thinking about you. Just please come back home with me” Connie rushed out, the tattooed drug dealer fought the urge to cry. You’ve been ignoring him like crazy. A part of him felt like you were really done with him and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay Connie, I will” You nodded, letting your emotional state take over. Your arms wrapped around Connie, just wanting to feel him. “I’m gonna go home with you”

The next day you were sitting on Connie’s lap at Eren’s house. You sat pressing sticky kisses up and down Connie’s neck while he counted a few bands, a joint resting in his mouth.

Eren rolled his eyes as he walked pass you two on the couch. As annoying as it was, everything felt back normal again. You were right where you were supposed to be, with connie <3

thinking about toxic!yandere!friend group now but in a platonic way

[37-drc89]

ice skating; lee minho

[christmas special fic series; 2/8]

genre; fluff, established relationship.

warnings; none, gender not defined.

word count; 1,3k.

christmas masterlist

”If I win rock paper scissors, will you agree?”

”No.”

”If I pay for dinner, will you agree?”

“I can afford dinner.”

“If I invite Jisung over, will you agree?”

“What does Jisung has to do with it?”

That would be it for convincing Minho to go ice skating with you. You spotted the ice rink during your daily evening walk around your area and immediately your childhood memories found you, recalling how much joy it used to bring you. You were never a professional, tripping over your legs here and there, but taking your boyfriend ice skating has always been your silent duty. It’s romantic, or maybe it’s just those christmas movies that made it seem like that, but it’s definitely worth a try. Besides, seeing Minho losing himself on ice is something you have to see before you die and fate put the perfect opportunity right front of you - you just have to pull the right strings of his.

“Okay, just admit you don’t love me anymore, I’ve figured it out myself already,” you cross your arms and speed up in your walk slightly, leaving your whiny boyfriend behind.

“Don’t pull these illegal moves on me.” Minho speaks and tugs at your hood, turning your body back at him. It takes everything not to laugh at the grimace plastered on his face, but you keep your cool, light anger visible in eyebrows, forehead scrunched.

“I’ll just go myself, it’s alright. I’ll see you at home, Min!” you announce, already on your way towards the rink. Minho tried calling your name but he knew he’s in no-win position. Seconds later he’s already by your side, murmuring something about how lucky you are he’s your boyfriend. You only laugh at his defeat, finally able to let the happiness out, wrapping yourself around his arm.

While he buys tickets for both of you, you choose the right ice skates. You help him tug them on, tying them as tightly as possible so he doesn’t break his leg within first ten seconds. Minho just sits there, observing your actions and can’t help but feel a little anxious about how he’s gonna do. Its not secret that he will embarrass himself in front of you and all these strangers as he’s never even had ice skates on.

“Alright grumpy, stand up.” you reach out for his hand when you’re finished and he grabs it so tight he could almost break it, but you squeeze it back signaling that he’s safe.

Minho gets on his feet, slightly losing balance before he eventually found the right position and you hold his forearm steadily, wide grin painted on your face. “I’ve got you, Min.”

He nods unsurely, letting you lead him to the ice rink. It took a while with your slow steps, but Minho eventually started getting used to having skates on his feet and figured his own way not to fall.

You step on ice first, not releasing your grip on his hand even for a second. As much as your ice skating skills weren’t perfect, they were definitely enough to lead Minho through this new experience. So when he follows you on the slippery surface and loses balance just for a moment you steady him, catching his back just before legs can give up under him.

You can’t help but smile at the full focus on his face, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted just slightly as he attempted to recompose his posture. Minho holds onto the railing for dear life, using his hands to move. You notice his legs shaking, still unsure of what exactly he should do with them, so you slide by his side.

“Here, look. Slide your right feet first, like this, and use your left one to push yourself forward, gently,” you demonstrate the right technique to him, going forward few metres. “Have you ever done roller skating? It’s pretty much the same…”

As you explain everything, Minho can’t help but go unfocused, amazed by your figure sliding smoothly across the ice rink, heart warming up uncontrollably at the sight of his lover enjoying themselves so much, even though he held you back from skating freely. Though, it didn’t seem to bother you as you gladly taught him everything he needed not to die. Suddenly you grab his hands off the railing and hold them in yours, pushing him slightly away of his current lifeline. You start pulling him forward while gliding backwards. Minho panics a little, but you give him a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, no worries. I’m not letting you break your legs today.”

Minho recalls your words, trying to copy your movements and eventually starts pushing forward by himself, still clutching your hands tightly. His legs attempt really hard to escape from under his body, but you make sure to hold him up everytime you can feel it coming. Two full circles in and Minho already feels more confident in what he’s doing, so you slowly tear your palms away from his. Your boyfriend sends you panicked look as you distance yourself from him just about two metres away and gesture him to come to you.

Minho takes in the deepest breath possible and step by step, starts sliding forward no faster than a turtle. You stare at him proudly, patiently waiting until he figures it out.

Suddenly, Minho’s foot slide back a bit too far, sending immediate panic through his whole body which started misfunctioning real quick as he lost control in every part of it, all at once. Surprised gasp coming from his mouth got cut off when body collapsed under him, hand subconsciously looking for anything he could grab onto, finding you. His weight drags you down onto the hard surface, falling onto him and you yelp loudly.

Minho whines in light pain swelling in his butt and already started apologising in rush, turning to check up on you, when you burst out laughing. You laugh so loud, lying back on the ice, arms on your stomach. Minho blinks at you a few times before an audible chuckle leaves him, too. It quickly turns into uncontrollable laughter. You stay like this for a moment before you attempt to stand up, awkwardly, still trying to catch an appropriate amount of air in lungs.

That’s when Minho realises something. No one noticed that. People omitted you skilfully, not even paying attention to anything that was going on down there. No one laughed, no one judged. No one was looking at him, except for you. And when it’s him who’s looking at you, he sees nothing but purest joy. Tears of laughter were falling down on your cheeks, sleeve trying to desperately dry them off. And Minho couldn’t scrap the goofy smile off his face, either.

This wasn’t the last time you ended up on the ground that evening. Everytime your boyfriend felt like tripping, he purposely pulled you down with him like the little shit he is, giggling devilishly. By the time you left the ice rink your butt was sore, probably decorated in ungodly amount of bruises.

Meanwhile you were returning your skates, Minho disappeared for a few minutes. Then he was already by your side with two, big hot chocolates in his hands, sweet steam filling up your nostrils. He hands you your drink, stealing a soft, loving cheek kiss from you. “Sorry for the bruised ass.”

Morning, two days later, you’re lying under the covers, Minho wrapped around your torso as you relish in his warmth. He’s been refusing to get out of bed for the past 30 minutes, so you just gave up, feeling your eyelids getting heavy under the comfort. What disturbed your half-asleep state was Minho that started to squirm in your touch, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He started calling your name softly, nudging his nose onto your skin. When you finally gave in and looked at him sleepily, eyes still almost glued together, he was already smiling sheepishly at you.

“Wanna go ice skating today?”

[leviscolwill]

daydreamin'

pairing: more jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader

summary: you get interviewed by your celebrity crush after getting your first pole position, and you boyfriend can't stop teasing you for it. [wc: ~850]

contents: reader is feeling silly, fluff, awful attempt at being funny ‼️NOT proofread (i'll do it later 😪)

req: We need more driver gf x jude 🙏🙏🙏

note: this is sort of a part 2 to ballroom extravaganza but it can definitely be read as a stand alone !! i'm happy that you guys enjoyed my f1 driver!reader work, i have a few more requests for this trope that i'll write when i find the time :D

now playing: daydreamin' by ariana grande (yours truly)

"y/n don't freak out, alright ?"

the words of your race engineer in your ears were already freaking you out, you were already imagining your flying lap deleted because of track limits or a penalty.

"you're on pole! congrats y/n, you deserve it."

"no way, no way... i think this is the best day of my life." you couldn't help but scream in joy, probably destroying your engineer's ears.

"fuck, thank you so much guys... i love this team so much, i swear." you cringed at your sappy comments but you couldn't help yourself. you had a hard time adjusting during your rookie year in f1 and the first few months were quite challenging to you. but this, it was the proof you were getting there, that you couldn't give up.

getting out of your car, you ran towards your team in the parc fermé as they kept congratulating you for your great result. as your team's engineers and mechanics kept patting your back, your eyes met your boyfriend's. you hugged him strongly as if he would slip away from you if you let him go.

"i'm so proud of you my love. you're the best." he kissed the top of your helmet before walking away to get your interview done.

you watched lando get interviewed by jenson button, as he finished p3. he'd always been comfortable doing media work, something you definitely needed to improve. you dreaded this moment, jenson button was one of your favourite drivers when you were younger and you had a little celebrity crush on him back then. of course, it was no longer the case, but you were terrified of embarrassing yourself in front of him, even more so knowing cameras would be filming the moment in 4k.

lando went to congratulate you after finishing his interview while you were waiting for perez to complete his. quickly, a mic was handed to you and you walked to the interview zone.

"y/n, what a lap! congratulations on the first pole of your career, hopefully the first of many..." jenson beamed.

"thank you... i hope to get more poles if i get rewarded by a jenson button interview." you were still out of breath from your lap and the excitement you felt. your nervousness dissipated a bit when jenson laughed at your attempt at a joke.

"that was a perfect lap, you think you can keep that position tomorrow for the race ?" jenson asked you.

"of course it's gonna be hard but both lando and i have the possibility of going home with a great result, maybe a 1-2. we just need to find out the best strategy and my job is just to make sure i drive perfectly."

"that you showed you can do. once again, congratulations y/n, pole sitter here in sao paulo. let's hope i get to interview you tomorrow as a race winner this time!"

"now that's good motivation, see you tomorrow." you waved at the crowd before getting your trophy and getting the pictures done.

jude was already waiting for you with a big smile on his face. he hugged you again and peppered kisses across your face.

"my pole sitter, you were brilliant today."

"thank you, i thought i would pass out after crossing the finish line."

"we need to talk about that interview though, you really want to replace me with that old man?" he raised his eyebrow questioning you.

"he's not old! i might replace you with him if you keep being mean to my main man like that..." you took a quick glance at jude, gauging his reaction.

"maybe you should ask him to take you to the restaurant that your boyfriend got you for tonight, if he'd do a better job than me.' he said feigning offence.

"mmhh you're right, i'll ask him when i see him..." you ducked jude's smack that was aimed at the back of your head and started to run away.

"my media duties are calling sorry." you ran off before jude could make you regret your words, only turning around to stick your tongue at him like a kid.

jude walked towards mclaren's motorhome to wait for you when someone started walking side by side with him.

"how long have you two been together ?"

he looked at the origin of the voice only to find jenson button.

"um, it'll be one year in december. are you planning on stealing her from me before that?" he joked with jenson.

"i don't think i could steal her from you even if i wanted to from the way she looks at you, you two are lovely. see you tomorrow mate" he patted jude's back before going his own way.

when you joined jude at mclaren's hospitality, he had a big smile attached to his face.

"what happened to you ? are you texting your other girlfriend ?" you asked, sitting down next to him

"i'm just proud of you." he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, kissing the side of your head.

he liked the fact that his little encounter would remain a secret between him and your first crush.

[twistedlovelines]

Part two of the sub sebek post 👉👈 (same person who asked last time, was gonna ask sooner but I forgot...if you can do some more intended for male readers I'd be delighted and will owe you my soul, lungs, kidneys and eyes. It's okay if not though, you can still get my soul)

Have a lovely day/night

Sub! Sebek with a M! Reader (18+, MDNI)

Sub! Sebek, oral, (reader giving) anal,  fingering (m! receiving), creampie,  m! Human! Reader 

Service. Sub.

He's far too prideful to initiate a quickie, but he'll shoot you desperate gazes the whole day in the hopes you understand his meaning. A firmer-than-necessary squeeze on your shoulder or waist as he moves past you, letting out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a moan when you pin him down during training, etc.

Genuinely loves being between your thighs and serving you. He doesn’t have to worry about anything but your pleasure during this time, and he trusts you wholly, allowing him to relax and let his worries slip away with every thrust in his mouth. 

While he’s more focused on your pleasure at first, he does enjoy being the target of your affections in private (key word: private- he can’t handle too much PDA and prefers to show more overt forms of affection in private because it feels more genuine). 

Generally, he’s never really cared much for exploring his own body and preferred to take care of things as quickly as possible (aka getting off by his own hand). He’s not familiar with toys, and never really seeks them out unless you introduce them to him ^^

As a result, he's quite nervous the first time you play with his ass and penetrate him. He's tense!! Anal in general requires the receiver to be relaxed, but Sebek in particular is so wound up that you need to work him through an orgasm or two before you can even insert a finger.

When you’re able to work your way up to stuff him with your cock, he’s wonderfully prepped for you. His hair is completely disheveled, his calloused hands having run through it in (failed) attempts to reign in his reactions. Spread completely for you, his cock is erect, leaning over his stomach as the flushed pink tip drips with pre-cum.  “Well? What are you waiting for, human?” He snarls breathlessly.  Frankly, it comes out weaker than he intended, but he can’t quite get himself to care. His nipples are sore from how you had toyed with them earlier, and he can feel himself clenching around nothingness as you pump yourself a few times before lining up with his hole. 

As much as you try to ease yourself into him, Sebek can’t help but gasp at how full he feels whenever you fuck into him, and tends to hook his legs around you in response, wanting to feel as close to you as possible.

He cums fairly quickly given how overwhelming this experience is for him the first time, but he finds it a waste for you to allow your cum to leak out of him, so he whines and tugs you closer after you cum inside of him <3

Sebek finds himself surprisingly clingy after sex- even as you both give aftercare and collect yourselves. He can’t help but want to hold you close after such intimacy, and you’re happy to reciprocate.

a/n: reblogs and comments appreciated <3 requests are closed right now, but feel free to brainrot about any ideas or ask for me 2 elaborate in my inbox <33

[djarindroid]

'Good Work'

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: One morning you decided to put the skills Daryl had taught you to use. (Set during the prison era)

Word Count: 790

Comments: ok so apparently I just decided to write a reader with a praise kink...may make a part 2 and explore this further (no spicy stuff here though).

It had been a great morning, not too hot, not too cold. You’d woken up at dawn and slipped out of the prison unnoticed with the hope of surprising Daryl, and boy was he gonna be surprised when you got back. 

Over the past few weeks Daryl had been teaching you the basics of tracking and hunting. So far you’d managed to catch a few small rabbits with his help. You’d relished those days out with Daryl, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. 

Your time alone with him was freeing, you’d always loved being outside but had never learnt anything useful before the world went to shit. But Daryl didn’t mind teaching you, in fact he’d been quite open to you tagging along that first time you’d asked. 

Carol didn’t hide her surprise when you’d let her know where you were going that first time. Shocked that Daryl was open to taking someone with him.

He had only ever been welcoming towards you, from the moment you’d first joined the safety of the prison. You liked to think he enjoyed your time together as much as you did.

Today you’d set out to do something useful. You'd gone out by yourself to try and catch something. An attempt to surprise Daryl with how much you’d learned from him, with the added benefit of feeding some hungry mouths. 

Not only had you managed to catch something, but you’d got a deer, a big one. You’d taken it down easily and were now carrying it on your shoulders through the woods back towards the prison gates.

You had a huge smile on your face as you approached the gates. Maggie, on gate duty, couldn’t hide her amazement. ‘You got that on your own?’

‘Yep’ you confirmed. ‘Gonna get this inside, ready for later,’ you added as you began to make your way up to the prison.

‘You’re giving Daryl a run for his money bringing something that big back,’ Maggie called after you. 

You laughed, happy that you’d managed to prove yourself already. As you made the short walk from the gates, you kept looking around hoping to spot Daryl. You couldn’t wait to see his face, you’d done everything he’d shown you how to do. From tracking, to staying as quiet as possible before shooting your target. You hoped he’d be proud.

Your mind briefly thought back to the moment you’d first picked up tracks without Daryl’s guidance, he’d patted your shoulder whilst saying ‘good work.’ You’d lived off the high his praise gave you for days after that.

A slight blush spread across your cheeks at the memory, though you shook the thought from your head as you got closer to the benches outside the prison. 

You quickly spotted him standing with his back to you, engrossed in conversation with Rick. Without hesitation your pace quickened, the desire to show off what you accomplished outweighed any restraint you had.

Rick whistled lowly as you came into view and he spotted what you were carrying. ‘Think she’s got you beat,’ Rick said as he patted Daryl’s shoulder.

This caused Daryl to spin round, you couldn’t hold back your smile as you watched his eyes go wide. You sauntered over to where they stood and threw the deer over your shoulders and onto the table next to them. You felt so proud of yourself, looking down at what you’d managed to do. Rick offered to carry the deer inside, leaving you alone with Daryl.

‘Guess ya don’t need me anymore,’ he finally spoke.

You looked over to him to find a small smirk on his face, so you decided to play along. ‘Guess I don’t,’ you joked back, the smile still hadn’t left your face from the moment you’d seen him. 

He chucked quietly and patted your back ‘ya did good.’ His hand lingered for a moment longer than it normally would, as he watched the heat rise on your face at his praise.

You’d be lying if you said this isn’t what you’d wanted, you’d never really had anyone be proud of you like this before and you’d gone out of your way to get that feeling again today. 

You fought to speak without stammering, and managed to say, ‘well I had a great teacher.’ 

Daryl’s smirk grew into a genuine smile for only you to see. He stepped a fraction closer to you, ‘maybe you’re ready for the advanced lessons,’ he teased. His eyes stayed glued to yours and made your heart skip a beat. 

The shared moment lingered as you were both called inside to help with the deer. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your connection with Daryl had just deepened in the most satisfying way.

[smilingangel582]

Hiiii I just finished Cyno's second story quest and it's beyond amazing! I love it! The best story quest so far for me... seriously!

I really really want a Sethos and Cyno fic now... bjt at the same time I want a Lisa and cyno too...

Eh, I'll just write both. Man it's been a while... since I wrote for genshin impact.

Hehe

Warning spoilers for Cyno story quest 2 and his lore about his powers.

Ler!sethos, Lee!cyno

Summary: Sethos really wants to beat Cyno. Tcg is out of the question... what can he do? He really needs to find his weakness... nonetheless, a certain Fennec decides to spill a little secret.

Temple of laughter

Ugh... again... Cyno, the general of Mahamatra, beats him again.

That'd thr seventh time in a row.

"You really need to brush up on your strategic skills." Cyno casually states, his tone serious anf genuine regardless of Sethos mentality.

Sethos has his head lowered on the table. Utterly broken and defeated. He looks up with fatigue, "Seriously Cyno, isn't there any other way that I can best you in?"

Cyno thinks, actually wondering to what he can help with Sethos. How's your sense of humour with jokes? I've known to have the best puns in Sumeru... perhaps from Teyvat"

"Don't go spouting puns on my watch, Cyno," Tighnari intervenes as he joins them briefly after a rain forest mission.

Cyno sigh, "Just admit that my jokes are superior and you can't hold in your laughter..."

Tighnari rolls his eyes, sarcastic now, "Oh yes I'm gonna die laughing every time he says a pun joke..."

Cyno, naively believing him, folds his arms proudly, "See, even the most serious ones know how great my -Ah!"

Tighnari poked him on the side, looking sassy, "How about try a tickle fight?"

"That's dumb..." Cyno scoffs but flinched defensively when Tighnari threatens to poke him again.

Sethos blinked. Could that be it? The general mahamatra can't possibly lose to something as simple as that...

Tighnari, seeing Sethos who's also curiously watching Cyno, smirks with an idea popping to his mind. His ear twitched in excitement as he swiftly began, "You know Sethos, you and Cyno can wrestle and see who's stronger."

Cyno, unaware of his ulterior motives, looks up in confusion, "That's unexpected... why suddenly?"

Tighnari cheekily points out, "Oh? Are you afraid that you might actually lose to someone younger than you?"

"N-no, of course not... geez, fine, I'll play along!"

Green eyes brightened at the thought of how Tighnark set him a perfect chance to get Cyno back. However he should be careful when Cyno retaliates. He's pretty ticklish too... perhaps even more than Cyno.

It's too absurd to think Cyno is ticklish... it might be a path to death if he attempted it. Still it's worth the risk.

"Fine Sethos, ready whenever you are," Cyno says, his hands up against his chest to a defence stance.

Sethos takes his chances, inhaling and exhaling. Praying thar Cyno will be at least a bit ticklish...

"The ribs and armpits... and pretty much his back and thighs are bad..." Tighnari whispered to him on his way out from the room where they've been duelling TCG.

Sethos looks back, tearfully and gratefully. He should remind himself to treat Tighnari to a meal sometime.

He lunged, and as expected, Cyno dodged most of them. After keeping up the charade, Sethls strikes by throwing himself on the general, grabbing his waist.

Sethos swiftly tickles his ribs causing Cyno to jolt on surprise, "H-ha! Wait... what a-ahahare you...?"

Getting more confident by that reaction, Sethos began to tickle up his armpits, causing Cyno to jerk again, more violently, he giggles in a low voice.

"Ah... I never knew the general Mahamatra to be this sensitive..." Sethos responds fondly. Seeing the uncontrolled movements of Cyno, squirming and rolling to the side to avoid his sensitive spots but Sethos was already on to him, his tickles nimble and effective.

"H-hahaa cohohohome on! Thihihihis isn't fahahahair!" Cyno squirms now, trying to figure back but Tighnari had give away all his worst spots to Sethos and luckily he can't even tickle him back properly. Every time Cyno reached to tickle him back, Sethls tickled his armpits.

"But you weren't fair when you tried to make me play a game. I never had a chance to win..." Sethos said, feigning hurt, "Oooh but general... you look more ticklish than me... what if an eremite finds out?"

Cyno was not prepared for Sethos to switch him on to his stomach, and scribble his fingers on his back. Unable to defend himself, Cynl writhes and laughs, more like cackling like a madman, "AhaHAHAHA NOHOHO MORE! AHA!"

"Do you yeild Cyno?" Sethos grins, expectantly but Cynl cackles. Not responding...

"In that case..." Sethos and Cyno both hears a voice, Tighnari leaning by the door frame, watching fondly, "Sethos aim for the back of his thighs... its so bad that he will scream like a girl"

"Ihihihi dohoho nohohot screeeheheheam like a gihihirl -EEEEK!"

Tighnari shakes his head amusedly, and he did...

Sethos freeze by that sound when Cyno lets a shrilled, high-pitched cry as his fingers swiped the back of his thigh.

"O-oho wow... I didn't expect that..." Sethos somewhat feels bad, but... he couldn't help lightly run his fingers over the thighs, causing Cyno to yelp now, "N-NOT THERE!"

Maybe just a little longer...

Sethos teases him, "Wait... are you really begging me Cyno?"

Cyno grits his teeth, but giggles angrily when Sethos, merely used to tap the sensitve spot, and even his hips making him flinch again.

"Cynoo~ which funny bone will it take to break you?" Sethos had to make a joke as he squeezes his hip, Cyno shrieks and that made Tighnari laugh, "Well I can guarantee Sethos has a better sense of humour than you..."

"Nooohooohoo"

Sethos didn't know if it's the tickling or the fact that Tighnari said he was funnier than Cyno triggered him.

"So tough but ticklish..." Sethos murmurs, now Cyno reached his limit when he got his knees.

"Fohohor thehehehe love ohohof teheheyvat y-yohohou win! You whihihihin!"

Sethos looks happy, suddenly whooping as he got off of Cyno, "Finally! I beat Cyno!"

Tighnari giggles now, proud, "Nice one, Sethos... Cyno is finally put to his place"

Cyno groans, trying to sit up despite his fatigue and flushed face, "J-juhuhuhust don't think I'll not get rehehehevenge on you and Tighnari"

Sethoa merely grins.

Worth it...

Ignore the grammar pls thanks

[milfism-blog]

You are more than that part 2

Summary: You applied to be a third-grade teacher in Philadelphia in an attempt to quietly leave your partner behind and start a new chapter in your life. However, your boyfriend managed to get hold of your plans and applied for a crew member position at Abbott Elementary for a future project. What happens in that moment when Ms. Schemmenti investigates something concerning about your boyfriend. Will she initiate an investigation or support you?

Part 1

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Homophobia, mentions of violence, little angst, protective Melissa, mentions of church\religion, fluff, comfort, soft Melissa, dialogue in italian I translated it so sorry for any mistakes! 

Author's note: Thank you guys so much for your support. I really appreciate it! It gave me confidence to write more. You asked for a second part, I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always appreciated! 

Her eyes bore into him, a piercing gaze that dissected his bravado with a cold precision. The mocking cadence of her voice was a calculated symphony, each note playing a part in dismantling the illusion of toughness he sought to project. In that moment, she stood as the maestro of his humiliation, orchestrating a composition that reverberated with the echoes of his perceived arrogance.

A wry smile played on her lips, a silent challenge issued in the face of his posturing. The "bad boy" façade crumbled under the weight of her scrutiny, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath the surface.

The atmosphere hung heavy with tension, a charged stillness that underscored the power dynamic in that fleeting moment. She had effortlessly seized control, one swing of her favourite bat. BAM darkness���

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

As the sun began to rise over South Philodelphia Melissa was coming home from the hang out with her boys, as if you even can call it like such. Walk home was quiet. Morning fresh air was pleasantly giving a chilling sensation to her warm body. That was definitely what she needed. To ease her temper down, not even physically but mentally. She needs to think it through… 

“How to explain to you what has happened? Why did she do that? Why are you important to her? Why does she even care in the first place? Why did she let you see her soft side?”    

Even now she doesn't care about herself, what is going to happen to her after what she has done. That does not matter. She will be fine, if not she knows a guy. She will be fine. Redhead felt relieved that you were never gonna be in danger again. Now she is by your side and you are her family, even though she hasn't even done her move on you yet. Sure she kissed you, opened her heart and talked about her feelings. But officially ask you to be her girlfriend? Not yet. She doesn't want to force herself on you. Make you feel obligated to reciprocate her feelings because she did something for you. Maybe you just were under stress and all that was just emotions talking. She wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible. 

While her thoughts carried her away from the chilly morning she was already at her doorstep. With her keys in her hand she tried to suppress the sound that might wake you up. Pressing the door with her body weight to smoothly push it open. Also she needs to consider her appearance might look quite scary with a bloody baseball bat in the other hand. As quietly as possible she sneaked in. Carefully putting her trustful weapon near the door entrance. Everything was smooth until her phone rang.

“Son of a bitch” she hissed out.

But when she saw a caller's id her temper dissolved.

“Ehi Vinny, hai finito quello che ti ho chiesto?"

(Hey Vinny, have you finished what I asked you about?) She whispered suppressing her voice. Even though you can’t understand the language she still was stressing a little bit.

“Già fatto capo” 

(Already done boss) he answered humorously. 

“Ma sai che sto aspettando il tuo fantastico branzino, le lasagne o la pasta? Magari a cena con te e la tua ragazza?".

(But you know I’m waiting for your amazing branzino, lasagna or pasta? Maybe dinner with you and your girl?) He asked teasingly 

“Oh, fermati Vin, ti cucinerò tutto quello che vuoi. E perché tu sappia che non è la mia ragazza...".

(Oh stop Vin I’m gonna cook you whatever ya want. And so you know she is not my girl…) she sadly smiles at the last words. Little pang of sadness is somewhere deep in her heart.

“Non dirmi che non glielo hai ancora chiesto?  Perché a mia memoria è stata la prima signora a cui hai riservato un simile trattamento... e a chiedere a me e ai ragazzi questo favore"

Don’t tell me you haven’t asked her yet?  Because in my memory it’s been the first lady that you gave such a treatment… and asking me and da boys for this favour.)

“Oh, ma stai zitto! Non conosco ancora Vinny... È molto più giovane e questa notte è venuta da me piangendo istericamente, ovviamente l'ho aiutata. È la mia migliore amica. Quindi come potrei rifiutare?".

(Oh shut it will ya? I don’t know Vinny yet … She is much younger and she came to me this night hysterically crying, of course I helped her. She’s my best friend. So how could I decline?”) She fires back defensively, placing her hands under her chest.

“Per quanto mi ricordo, eri disposto a uccidere solo per Barbara... e se questa ragazza è più speciale della Leggendaria Barbara Howard. So che hai un paio di palle d'acciaio e tutto quell'abbigliamento da duro. Ma ti prego, cerca di sopprimere tutto questo in nome dell'amore! Per favore?". 

(As far as I remember you were willing only to kill for Barbara… and if this girl is more special than The Legendary Barbara Howard. I know you have a steel set of balls and all that tough attire. But please try to suppress all this in the name of love?! Please?”)

“Oi da quando sei un signor Cupido?". 

(Oi since when you are a Mr Cupid?) She sarcastically snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Da quando ho visto come i tuoi occhi fiammeggiavano di fuoco... se non ti avessi fermato... sarebbe morto”. 

(Since I saw how your eyes were flaming with fire… if I wouldnt stop you.. he would be dead.) Vinny gently reminded her. 

Melissa has a quick glance at the covered with blood baseball bat. Her pupils slightly delayed from the flashbacks from the night were flashing in her mind. Still fresh enough to relive every single detail. How Vinny practically dragged her out from James' pathetic trembling body. How she fired every single insult she could remember. How she could see only red in front of her eyes. The fury swallowed her alive only pure clear anger, hatred towards the coward boy who thought he could wronged her family.

"Sì, è quello che pensavo. Quindi usa il tuo paio di palle e chiedi. Vai a prendere la tua ragazza Schemmenti! E non dimenticare l'accordo che abbiamo fatto".

(Yeah, that’s what I thought. So use your pair of balls and ask. Go get your girl Schemmenti! And don’t forget about the deal we made) His voice became more serious in the last sentence. 

"Sì, lo farai, grazie Vin, ci vediamo domenica alla cena di famiglia".

(Ya, ya gonna do that, thanks Vin gonna see you on the family dinner this Sunday)

As she hangs up the call. She can feel your eyes on her. When Melissa looked up at you her whole body relaxed. The tension on her muscles and stress dissolves when she sees your bare face, sleepy eyes and crazy morning hair. It gave her a sense of comfort and probably the taste of something so pure and cosy as a life together. 

“Good Morning tesoro” She gestured to you to come to her warm embrace. To be completely truthful that was what you needed. Specially after the tough night. 

“Did I wake ya up?” Redhead asked worriedly. Brushing your soft curls behind your ears. Her long manicured nails sent pleasant chills on your sensitive skin. Making you cling onto her tighter.

“No, no I heard you talking in Italian, I got a little carried away. It is such a rare occasion hearing you talking in your native language. And I’m sorry for listening to your conversation. But I couldn’t stop myself from listening to your voice in that beautiful language. You know your voice changes a lot when you switch languages?” You guiltily confessed. Avoiding looking directly into her mesmerising green orbs. Hiding into the crook of her neck.

But literally how can you not listen to Ms. Schemmenti talking in Italian? 

So passionately, so hot.

“Hey, are you done hiding your face from me? It’s not a big deal, I’m not mad at you” She cupped your face in her gentle hands. Making you maintain eye contact. When you finally dared to look into her emeralds you could see the vulnerability. Real Melissa Ann Catrina Schemmenti. 

When you placed your palms over her knuckles. She hissed and yanked her hand away.

“Cazzo” she swears under her breath while biting the tender flesh of her rosy bottom lip trying to suppress the pain.

It takes you a good minute to understand what caused the pain to the fiery redhead. And when you take a close look at her knuckles. You unconsciously gasped at what you saw. Her delicate skin was ripped in pieces, dried blood and deep wounds are evident on the back of her hand. For some reason your first reaction was to carefully take her damaged hands to your lips and kiss the pain away. This act made Melissa's heart flutter with love for you. This simple act of kindness made her unwillingly to shed some tears. It felt so good, so domestic to be taken care of. The pure innocent love behind your eyes while you kissed every small, deep painful cut on her milky flesh. The sweet glances you shared in that vulnerable moment. No need for words, just love and the happy bubble you created for each other. 

In a while you dared to carefully stop your movements to give Melissa the right treatment. You went to the medicine cabinet that she usually keeps in the kitchen. Taking all the supplies you need you instructed the Ms. Toughness to take a seat on her bar stool. If it was not you she would kill the person who would tell her what to do. Oh please, she was too stubborn to listen to any direction from anyone but you, you were different. She even enjoyed listening to you and your directions.

Even though Melissa Schemmenti has been playing the “I am the strong one” card. Right now she needs to be taken care of. And your presence made it easier. She allowed herself to leave several groans of pain from the alcohol wipes that you were pressing to her damaged knuckles trying to clean the wounds. To ease the pain you blew on her reddened skin. Which made Melissa find it very adorable. How focused you were. How your eyebrows furrowed at every breath she takes. How did you make sure she was okay. How you asked her different questions to distract her from unpleasant feelings. As people say curiosity will kill the cat you mastered the courage to ask what she did to get this type of wounds…

“Will you tell me what you did to get those?” You asked while putting bandage on her now cleaned knuckles.

“It shouldn't be your concern, my darlin`” She purred out while batting her eyelashes at you. 

“It's not a big deal. It has been worse. You should have seen the other guy.” She joked. Trying to dismiss your worry.

Then it suddenly occurred to you. The other guy… her damaged hands, her shushed phone call in Italian, the fact that she sneaked up to her home in the early morning and then you glanced at the bloody baseball bat near the entrance and all these puzzles made a whole new picture. “GUY - GUY - GUY” is the only thing you can hear in your mind… James. With all this pleasant calming bubble you have been in, the redhead made you forget the main sense of danger. Why do you even end up here in the first place. This is why you slept in your co-worker`s bed in the longing sense of comfort Melissa provided and now she might have problems because of your childishness and your cowardness. Not knowing how to solve your own problems might put her in danger. The only person who trusted and cared about you. Again you fucked everything up. Feeling absolutely overwhelmed with emotions and negative thoughts you couldn't take it anymore. And yet again you are about to do what you are the best at. Run away from all your problems. 

Melissa took notice of your abrupt change in behaviour. As if it was in slow motion. She could practically predict your next move. And that when you decided to leave without a word said to your favourite person. It hurts you deeply knowing that you caused all the pain both physical and mental.Not to mention the potential issues she might face. The instant absence of your warmth on her sore flesh made her miss the feeling. But her reactions were faster than you. Her strong hand grabs your form arm which causes you to press against her body. You tried to move but she was much stronger than you. 

“Let me go! I only cause problems to people I love” You cried out. Desperately trying to ease her grip on you.

“That's all because of me!, if I said “yes” to him or just stayed I wouldn't have added problems to you!” You tried to sound reasonable. But Melissa does not take any of this.

“First of all, it was purely my decision to help you out. Second, I cherish you and I couldn't just look at how he was treating you. And it is not only jealousy talking right now, even if you don't want to get romantically involved with me I still feel like I need to protect you. Because over this time you became my family and family that's what you kill for. What Italian would I be if I did not defend you.” She explained as calmly as she could. Even though hearing you talking down about yourself was hurting her more than this damn knuckles. 

You were in shock from her confession. Processing every word that left her beautiful full lips. Oh god damn, you are losing your focus in her warm embrace and hearing her opening up to you again made you think a little about what she said. Maybe you should listen to her words and take charge of your life. Wait a minute what she said about killing – ?

“Di - did - did you kill him?” your voice trembled in fear.

“And that's the only thing you got from what I said?” She sounded disappointed. 

“And to answer your question, no I did not kill him, my cousin saved him from me. Don't worry about James, he is still very much alive (unfortunately)” she whispered that part. “I will not get into trouble, so will you. I solved everything for you.” 

“You did this for me?” You were so confused why would she do this for you and not ask you about anything in return. 

“Of course I did. You are an important person in my life. You are my friend first of all. It is not fair for you to solve your problem on your own. I know you are very much capable of doing it yourself but I appreciate your vulnerability that you shared most intimate with me. It does not make you weak, on the contrary it makes you strong.” She spoke in a gentle calming tone. 

You couldn't contain the tears you have been collecting since you came to South Philly. All the stress and fear started to catch up on you. Melissa's heart warming words made you cry. You were feeling everything at once: sadness, gratitude, love all this was so unknown to you to your lifestyle. No one has ever taught you how to react or what to do. 

“I can guess that all this is just too much especially from your background, but sweetheart you need to learn your worth in your early twenties rather than in your late fifties like I did. It doesn't matter how you look, how you dress or what you do. He did not have the right to hit you or insult you in any way. His words are powerless. All he said to you were lies of a scared insecure man who wanted to manipulate and use you for his own pleasure or whatever the goal was. He wanted to be in charge. But it takes a huge bravery to break this cycle and you did honey. You took your happiness and life as a priority and left this asshole. I am so proud of you for asking for help.”

Her deep green orbs were looking at your tear stained face, still she thought that you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. You have a heart of gold, so kind, understanding, gentle and grateful. You never took anything for granted. While having you in her arms, the tough redhead was nervous about the situations you two were in. Not exactly in a relationship but certainly something more than friends would have. Your confession to her last night was playing on repeat. She tried to find answers in her own head which will do no good. Her insecurities are still there in her mind and heart. Yes she gave you talk about self love but with her it was different she knew her worth but anxiety from being older than you was creeping in her. To let the thoughts settle down for a bit. She hugged you tightly making you even more emotional. She walked you two to the couch so you would feel more comfortable. 

While you were laying on her lap you liked to play with her gorgeous curls. Which gave the Italian woman a pleasant sensation and just watching you being at peace with her felt like home. That feeling gave her a sense of bravery to ask you the most important question. 

“I understand that ya have been through a lot, so that is why I want to know was all the talk we had about feelings the other night real? Or was it only emotions talkin`? We still can be friends ya know that I love ya unconditionally as s friend right? Even if you don’t want to date me or whatever I should call it in my age. I’m always here for you. I’m not gonna pressure you into something you are not ready for. Especially after what you experienced. We are in no rush at all. We have time tesoro.

“Well aren't you the one who did all this inspirational talk?” You nudged her trying to ease the tension.

She weakly smiled at you, still worry is evident in her greens. Which makes your heart pound painfully. Now is your time to express your feelings to  the woman you've been dreaming about. You sat up straight on her lap. There is a small distance between you two and to be honest this is quite distracting. The feeling of her warm breath tickling your sensitive skin, the fast beating of her heart in her ribcage signals you her anxiety. You made a bold move by pressing your hand right on her heart. Try to ease the worry with your presence and eye contact. Silently telling the redhead that you are ready.

“Jokes aside, I find you a very attractive and hot woman Ms. Schemmenti. And all I said was pure truth. As it turns out I just need a stressful nudge to understand and confess my feelings for you. And thank god I did” You answered humorously. 

Finishing up your statement by shortening the agonisingly long distance between your lips. Putting your hands into her voluminous hair giving it a little tug. She gasped at the unpredictable action. You use her confusion as a benefit giving her a soft warm kiss. Gently asking for permission with your tongue. She allows you but she bites your bottom lip slightly pulling in. Smoothing it right away with her tender tongue. Teasing the skin a little bit. Until she provokes a moan from your lips. Pulling you incredibly close to her. She is desperate to feel, no to believe that all of this wasn't a dream of her colourful imagination.  

“I am always gonna protect ya my angel” She whispered in your ear. Sweetly kissing your earlobe. 

And that is how the one impulsive decision helped you find your real home. As it turns out, not supposed to be a place. It is a loving person, a partner that has changed your boring life forever… Thanks to a certain Italian redhead for opening your mind and being an amazing friend and lover. 

[its-time-to-write]

pleaseee, a part 2 to ‘ you don’t want to know me ‘

i love jamie tartt so much and hurt / comfort is just my fave kind of writing <3

Got a rude interesting comment in my inbox about my content. It’s kind of a bummer how one that isn’t nice attempts to overshadow all the love that people give. I’m glad people enjoy my writing, but ultimately I write it for myself. Requests are super awesome because it helps me grow as a writer, but I do only write the things that I want to. And I think that’s ok. I’m happy that there are a lot of people who like to read the things I like to write, and I understand those that don’t. You don’t have to be unkind about it.

Anyway, thank you @jellycolors for this ask! Y’all really do like a pt. 2 morning after fic, don’t you?😂

never wanted you to hate me

The sun is at the perfect angle to shoot a beam directly into your eyes, waking you up at exactly 7:32am, twenty-eight minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off. It’s Sunday, which is stupid, because you’re supposed to sleep in. Instead, you’re awake in bed, with your blankets feeling warmer and heavier than usual. You blink your eyes open to Jamie Tartt, shirtless and on top of you, fast asleep. You’re pretty much pinned under him, unable (or unwilling) to move him off. 

You wonder how long you should let Jamie sleep, and what he’s going to think when he wakes up like this. You’re sure this is a far cry from his usual mornings, usually with some model or something wrapped around him. You think since he’s the one holding you, it’s probably fine.

Jamie doesn’t wake up until your alarm goes off and when it does, he startles and almost rolls off the bed. You laugh at his look of utter confusion, as it takes him a moment to figure out where he is.

“You alright?” you ask, still grinning. Jamie, however, is not.

“Yeah,” he replies shortly. “Gonna get my things and get the fuck out of here.” He stalks out your bedroom without another word.

The way he’s acting is a far cry from the Jamie who asked you to sit on the bathroom sink last night so he wouldn’t be alone. In fact, it’s closer to the prickish version of himself that comes out on the pitch. You don’t like that he’s being that way with you, so you follow him to your living room.

“What the fuck was that?” you say to Jamie’s back as he bends down to get his jacket off the couch.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he replies, still not turning around.

You cross your arms. “You come here all- all sad and shit, fall asleep in my bed, tell me you fucking love me, and now you’re just leaving? What the fuck?”

Jamie stills. “I was just tired. Didn’t know what I was saying.”

That’s a lie, and you’re not going to let him get away with it.

You make your voice as steely as possible. “Jamie Tartt, if you think I’m fucking stupid as to think that I wouldn’t know you’re lying, then you might as well just go.”

Jamie turns to face you, and he looks a little wild. “Don’t think that just because we’ve known each other for thirteen years, that you fucking know me. Leave me the fuck alone.”

You squint at him. He’s wrong again. You do fucking know him. You know him so well that you understand exactly why he’s reacting this way. He hates being vulnerable in front of anyone, so now he’s trying to cut and run, pushing away one of the last people who actually cares about him.

Jamie’s still standing by the couch, clutching his Man City jacket, knuckles white. He’s still shirtless, breathing hard and waiting for you to fire back. You don’t.

Instead you say, so softly, “You know I never talk about you, right? Not gonna fuck off to some tabloid and tell them you said you love some girl you’ve known since you were ten.”

Jamie deflates a little so you continue. “We’re going to talk about all this. We’re going to talk about Roy Kent and your dad and the fact that your mum misses you so she calls me instead, and I’m going to make you breakfast and probably hold your hand and by the time you leave, you’re going to feel better and maybe actually feel fucking happy, because I see you in pictures, Jaim, and your smile really doesn’t reach your eyes anymore.”

“It’s fucked, ain’t it?” he says quietly. “I’m twenty-three, still letting me dad push me around.” He puts the jacket back on the couch and walks toward you. “And Roy Kent- he’s been my hero since I was a kid. He fucking hates me, and now he’s got a reason because I ended his fucking career. Me. And I have to live with that shit. It was the fucking worst game I’ve ever had to play. I hate being with City, especially since they all hate me for bein’ at Richmond. Pep’s the only one who didn’t say shit, just told me I was a good lad. I’ve been feeling all these emotional things and I didn’t want to go to me mum and I knew you lived ‘round here, so I thought I’d come over. You always made me feel better after seeing my dad.”

Jamie’s right in front of you now, rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone. You’re absolutely positive he can hear your heartbeat, and you dare to thread your arms around his waist.

“I loved you the first time I saw you. That’s why I was always hanging ‘round. Mum knew, she teased me about it for the longest time. Always tried to get me to say somethin’, but I weren’t ready. And you always fucking saw right through me, which freaked me the fuck out. Even now, I feel like- like you’re looking straight through me to my soul, and it’s fucking terrifying. But-” he takes a deep breath, “I also feel safe around you. I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I’ve seen you eat so much cake you had to lie down on the couch and sleep it off.” 

He’s grinning now, and so are you. 

“Hey,” you say, poking his chest, “I was ten and you thought you were all great because you were a year older than me and way too smart to do shit like that, as if you haven’t puked from drinking too much.”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell, maybe you know too much about me.”

“Not possible, Tartt,” you reply. “Now, you need a shirt and I need to shower.”

He smiles. “I think you might need some help. Heard you hate showering alone.”

You laugh. “Alright, you knob. Guess it’s been long enough.” 

[ceriisetheflower]

Self Care (M)

omega!renjun

wc: 4.8k

synopsis: renjun decides to take on his first heat the best way he knows how, as luxuriously as possible.

cw: smut...a lot of it. in immense detail. sex toys, pornography, multiple orgasms, unrealistic amounts of cum, stomach bulge, male squirting/watersports (depending on what you consider squirt to be lmao), overstimulation, cum eating, dildo sucking, mentions of fictional heat related illnesses, america-centric world building, a bitch with no friends attempting friendly dialogue.

a/n: well here it is! first full fic. believe it or not this was meant to be no longer than 1k, then i realized i get kinda pissed when fics don't include enough context for elements in the fic so i'd be a hypocrite if i didn't paint a likely unnecessarily vivid picture. feedback is much appreciated!

we love u very dearly junnie B💛

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

The sound of the dryer finishing its freshly washed load of delicates interrupted his fifth run through of his checklist. “Ok, let’s see….lube? Check. Waterproof blankets? Check. Three hour long Alpha on Alpha porn playlist? Check.” Renjun finally sighed with relief. It’s not everyday he obsesses over the amount of lube he has in his arsenal (he restocks his eight oz bottle of sliquid sassy every eight weeks on the dot), but it’s a special occasion. The special occasion.

He rebukes the term “late-bloomer”, despite the average age for an omega’s first heat occurring around eighteen. Renjun has always justified his lack of mating cycles with his ever present practicality. “You were absolutely ridiculous for a week straight until your heat broke.” He recalls to Donghyuck during their semi-regularly scheduled facetime catch-up they’ve adopted post grad school.

“I had so much going on freshman year, it would’ve made no sense for me to have to deal with a heat. Twenty-four is a way better age anyways, my prefrontal cortex is like eighty-five percent done, I can actually handle my brain being scrambled eggs for five days”. He says passively, ignoring the unimpressed look coming from the boy on the other side of the phone.

He unfortunately remembers the horrors of hearing Donghyuck’s first heat through their paper mache dorm room walls when they were eighteen, and the next heat three months later, and the next eighteen heats he endured as Donghyuck’s roommate. He’s convinced the boy has had enough heats for the both of them, especially considering Renjun was held solely responsible for ensuring his dear friend didn’t die of hunger or dehydration through them. It's a thankless job, but someone had to do it.

“Right, so I guess twenty-four is also the age where you’re finally gonna finish growing huh? Prime time to finally reach big boy height.” Donghyuck quips back, taking a break from grading assignments to goad the blonde boy giving him a deadpan stare through the phone.

“Bitch you’re literally 5’6 1/2 what are you talking about?” Renjun retorts, “it’s no way you’re calling me short when you just complained about how you cant find shoe lifts in canada.” Donghyuck widens his eyes in shock. “Talking about shoe lifts when you just begged me to ask Doyoung if he could hem those jeans 6 inches shorter is crazy work Renjun.” 

They continue their childlike bickering over their similarly petite frames for an unreasonable amount of time, before Donghyuck remembers the real reason for today’s meeting. “Ok but seriously, how are you feeling about this whole thing? I know it’s kinda a lot at once, be honest with me?” Donghyuck starts. He woke up two days ago to Renjun’s frenzied calls, knowing his friend was well aware that waking hours for him in Atlanta were still Donghyuck’s “dead to the world” hours in Vancouver, he was for certain there was an actual emergency.

Renjun had woken up with a pounding headache, abdominal cramps, and the unsettlingly wet mouth feel that comes right before vomiting. He knew what that meant, but refused to actually confront what was happening until Donghyuck got a look at him and convinced him to go to the omega urgent care. Donghyuck sat on the phone with him while he waited for the doctor, cheered as Renjun got the confirmation he was in pre-heat (much to Renjun’s dismay), and helped him pick the best painkillers to aid his cramps and headache. It was the best he could do from another country, fighting the urge to book a flight to go support his best friend in what’s easily the most important event in an omega's life. His husband only barely managed to convince him it was unnecessary and that they could just send him a nice care package in the mail on expedited shipping, Mark was always the level headed one in the relationship.

Renjun sighed before he could answer. “To keep it one-hundred percent real with you, I’m terrified. Like am I gonna be okay? What if I fuck up somehow and I end up never being able to have kids or something insane? Anything could happen?” Renjun said, ever the worrywort and full of trepidation about new experiences. Donghyuck scoffed, rolling his eyes at the catastrophization of the world’s most natural activity. “Friend, how could you possibly fuck up jerking off? You’ve had a solid twelve years of experience for this, relax!” Renjun shut his eyes and huffed in annoyance, “Obviously that’s not what I’m worried about idiot. I’m worried that I won’t be able to actually satisfy myself through the whole thing, and you know what happens if I can’t be fully satisfied.” Donghyuck sighs in acknowledgement.

Continuous Heating Syndrome, colloquially known as a heat frenzy, is a rare but unfortunate side effect of a heat that goes unsatiated. Nonstop migraines, vomiting, loss of motor function, seizures, or shit...even worse. Donghyuck has heard horror stories of omegas having perfectly normal heats that turn into three week stints at the hospital after they couldn’t break. Scary shit. Rare for all omegas, but increasingly likely for an unmated omega without consistent access to a knot, a category which Renjun unfortunately falls into. “Look at it this way” Donghyuck starts, “It’s not like you have no options at all. You don’t necessarily have to do this alone.” Renjun grimaces. He knows exactly where Donghyuck is going with this, and he’s not even remotely here for it.

 “I’m not calling the heat hotline.” Renjun was scared, not desperate. He had no reason to hire a random Alpha who needed extra money to come fuck him for five days straight, he could figure something else out for sure. “Oh girl please!” Donghyuck exclaims, “That’s literally exactly what you need right now! They’re super strict about testing so you won’t have to worry about that, plus it’s covered by your insurance? What is the issue?” Renjun rolls his eyes, ‘The issue is that you think i’m supposed to just randomly fuck the first alpha who doesn’t look like he snuck on the planet just to stop myself from going into a coma, I have options bitch!” 

Donghyuck scoffs, “Sure you do. Is now the time when Jen and Jae finally jump through the screen of their newest edging scene to keep you company through your heat? Porn only takes you so far, friend.” Renjun hates that Donghyuck knows him well enough to know he’s been anxiously scouring his favorite alpha pornstars’ onlyfans to find some semblance of relief through his rapidly approaching week of agony. “I have toys! So many toys! I don’t need an alpha at all, I have like six different vibrating cocks to choose from” Renjun grumbled. He was a fully self sufficient twenty-four year old omega who doesn’t need an alpha! Or so he continues to force himself to believe.

“If you’re gonna be stubborn about it, the least you can do is be safe.” Donghyuck says, his worried expression softening the defensive stance Renjun has adopted. “You do have someone nearby right? Just in case you need someone to check in on you in person?” “Of course, Yangyang and Chenle are in the building down the street, if I need a restock on anything or if I start overheating and dying I can call them.” Renjun replies, in an attempt to calm his friend from his concerns. “You’re not gonna die girl. Especially since I found the perfect thing to help you out!” Donghyuck beams, giving Renjun his signature “I’ve done something I know you won’t like but I’m smart enough to know it’s what you need" look.

“Is it a dick? Don’t buy me a dick Hyuck I swear to god.” Renjun says, “Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Dick shopping instead of feeling sorry for me? I can't believe this.” “If it makes you feel better it’s not a dick, you have so many other ones another would be excessive, even for me. You’re gonna love it though! All those fears of heat frenzy are gonna go right out the window!” Renjun eyes the brunette through the screen suspiciously, Donghyuck’s odd enthusiasm has been the catalyst to multiple cautionary tales Renjun is saving for his grandkids. Now might be the worst time to let his guard down. “I swear to god, if it’s something weird i’m sending it back and getting a restraining order.” Donghyuck giggles in nefarious delight, “It’ll be at your doorstep in two days!” Renjun groans in horror.

Renjun is shaken from his daydream riddled with Donghyuck’s alarming cackles by the sound of the doorbell being rang for the fourth time. “Oh! Coming, coming, so sorry!” He yells out, rushing to the front door to see his instacart delivery driver struggling to hold Renjun’s last minute groceries. The poor guy takes a deep breath and tries not to look nearly as phased as he is by Renjun’s sweet bergamot scent. “I-I wasn’t able to find the caramel pecan cookies, so I got you an extra box of kitchen sink cookies, I hope that’s ok?” The man stutters, clearly fighting the urge to comment on what smells like the sweetest omega he’d ever met. “Oh no worries! Thank you so much, they always go out of stock pretty quick.” Renjun replies, now increasingly aware of the alpha’s growing nervousness and intensified teakwood scent.

He hurries to grab the groceries from the boy and set them on his kitchen counter. “Here you go!” Renjun says, handing over his nice ten percent tip for the guy’s troubles. “T-T-Thank you!” he replies, after making a horribly obvious attempt at trying to inhale as much of Renjun’s residual scent on the ten dollar bill. Renjun awkwardly waves him goodbye, and closes the door of his apartment asking whichever deity that watches over him why he couldn’t have already been mated to avoid having to endure that. The plights of a single omega, he thinks to himself, now rapidly moving towards his kitchen to take final inventory. 

His heat is scheduled to begin sometime tonight, made clear by his overwhelming scent and his unbearable body temperature. He’s already considered turning his air conditioner up higher, but realizing that his poor plants would hate to live in a house that’s fifty-five degrees for a week straight, he suffers in a scantily clad haze. He’s stocked up with seven cases of water, four boxes of cookies, six frozen pizzas, and three family sized bags of chicken nuggets. His poor air-fryer will be working overtime this week, Renjun is fully prepared to only have twenty minutes of energy between heat spikes to keep himself semi-sufficiently nourished. He grabs an armful of waters and sports drinks he’d picked up earlier that week to carry them to his room. He placed them next to the other small snacks he’d put in his mini fridge conveniently sitting next to his nest, there was no way he’d be able to make it to the kitchen after the first few rounds and immediate hydration was a non-negotiable.

Renjun took a moment to be proud of himself. He was a single omega preparing for the most intense and important event of his life. All those incredibly awkward sex-ed lessons he endured in middle school, and the trauma-inducing nights spent handing Donghyuck and Mark bottles of gatorade and fruit snacks while trying to avoid  seeing any genitals had finally led up to this moment. Renjun was fully prepared. Renjun was gonna be okay. 

His doorbell rings again. This time unexpectedly. He opens the door to find another delivery man, this time an omega, Renjun can tell by the soft lavender scent. “Order for Renjun Huang?’ The man asks. Renjun grimaces at the horrifically American butchering of his name, giving a pleasant but unsure smile. “Yes! That’s me” Renjun replies, taking a look at the ominously large box the man is holding. "Great, sign here please” He grumbles, trying to make quick work of what Renjun can only presume is his last delivery of the day. Renjun makes quick work of scribbling his signature on the dotted line, before mumbling a quick thank you and grabbing the box. It’s oddly heavy, which wouldn’t be too concerning, until he took a closer look at the label and read ‘From: Mark and Donghyuck ♡,” in Donghyuck’s messy half cursive half print handwriting.

“Oh dear god” Renjun thinks, now the weight of the box is a genuine cause for concern. He heaves the box to his counter and takes a deep breath before cutting it open. Much to his surprise, it’s all normal nice things. He pulls out a box of the maple cookies Renjun became obsessed with when Mark brought them back a box after returning to campus from his thanksgiving break in Vancouver, the ones Renjun was pissed to find out aren’t available in Atlanta. He sees a stuffed bear and stuffed cheetah wrapped in plastic, Renjun pulls them out to admire the resemblance to his dear friends before he realizes they were both scented like Hyuck and Mark. Renjun could just cry. He felt so loved and cherished by his best friend, how loving and thoughtful Donghyuck always was despite being a smug piece of shit ninety percent of the time. He’s been wanting nothing more than to experience one of their “cuddle puddles”, that while Renjun would always protest, he secretly loved. He pulls out a lovely soft yellow blanket with pretty little ruffles on the ends, perfect to go in his nest for added comfort. Wrapped in the blanket is a little note: 

 “You’re gonna have a great time Junnie! Don’t overthink things, just relax and enjoy the ride! We love you so very much! - Hyuckie and Markie”

Renjun is tearing up, his friends love him so much, he’s gonna be okay! Then he sees another box at the bottom, hidden by the blanket and other gifts before it. He shimmies the black box out of the larger brown one and places it on the counter, now able to get a full look at what the picture on the box is displaying. The tears instantly dry. The feelings of love and admiration are replaced with immediate annoyance.

In a scary showcase of friendship telepathy, his phone rings, lighting up with the picture Donghyuck took of his flared nostrils freshman year. Renjun sighs, then answers the phone. “Why would you buy me a fuck machine?” Renjun stares into the phone, hoping to look as menacing as he can in a hello kitty headband holding his blonde strands from his face. “I see you got our present.” Donghyuck replies, shit eating grin so intense his lips were threatening to split apart. “I told you I had just the thing in mind for your heat girlie!” Renjun huffs with the full intent to call Donghyuck everything but a child of god, but he’s getting hotter and the throbbing between his legs is getting more intense. Tonight he chooses peace. “In seven days you’ll begin to cough” he says, and hangs up the phone to let out a loud exasperated grunt. 

Now the real preparation begins. Renjun walks over to his dryer and pulls out his satin robe he’d freshly washed for the occasion. He makes his way over to his bathroom to begin the most intense shower he’s had since his last failed date with an alpha he met on Wolfr. “Nice dick, horrendous vibes.” Renjun shudders at the memory. “Maybe that’s just how guys from Connecticut are? Connecticut is barely a real place, who cares.” He pauses his internal monologue for a moment to place a vanilla scented shower steamer in the corner of the tub. He lights himself a few overpriced indie candles he got from a small business bazaar in the city, and starts easing himself out of his tiny shorts.

He takes his time pulling the silky fabric of his briefs, gently coaxing his dick out of the fabric. He shudders at the cold air hitting his half-hard cock, sending shivers up his spine and another light stream of slick out of his tip. “Fuck,” He moans softly, entirely too aroused for his own good. He pulls his shirt over his head, shuddering again when the air hits his puffy swollen nipples. He takes the time to get a full look at himself in the full size mirror. “Fuck I’m hot. No wonder that Alpha almost popped his knot earlier,” Renjun smiles to himself confidently.

He makes his way into the shower, taking a deep breath of the warm vanilla scent circling him, meshing wonderfly with his own light citrusy aroma. The hot water of the shower electrifies Renjun’s body, he takes a moment to soak in the amazing feeling of the heat comforting his aching limbs. He starts with his favorite lemon and honey scented body wash to begin carefully massaging his arms and chest with the warm and fruity bubbles.

The sensation of the lather was already driving him crazy, absolutely loving the way his hands gilded seamlessly over his hips and ass. Renjun wasn’t normally the type to be so turned on by his own body, he guesses it’s just the excess hormones making any sight of bare skin immensely arousing. He snaps out of his hormone induced stupor to remember that he has a whole shower routine to get through, so he gives his soft chest a final squeeze, then moves back under the welcoming stream of the water to rinse himself clean. He grabs his body scrub and locks in for the remainder of his shower. 

Renjun emerges in a cloud of sugary citrus air, intoxicating even to himself. He wraps himself in his gold satin robe, and makes his way to his vanity for his finishing touches. Renjun digs through his copious amounts of products to find the expensive body oil he’s been saving for this very occasion. He strips off his robe, and starts massaging the oil into his skin, starting at his legs. Every dip his fingers make into his skin brings him closer to ecstasy. Closer to what he knows is gonna be the most intense feeling of his life. He’s just barely finished rubbing himself down when he starts leaking a new stream of slick from his puckered asshole.

“Oh shit, that must mean it’s about to be time huh?” He figures, moving to wrap his robe around him yet again to avoid his neighbors getting a free show through his open blinds. He draws the curtains, dims the lights, and connects his television to his laptop for an optimized viewing experience. He already has his nightly entertainment pulled up, three hours of Jen and Jae’s best material. Nothing that riles Renjun up more than seeing an alpha take a eleven inch dick like he was made for it.

He settles into the spot he carefully carved into his nest, when he lays his eyes on the pretty yellow blanket Donghyuck sent him in his care package. Then he thinks about what else was present in the care package. He pauses for a second, thinking about how he actually hadn’t even taken the fuck machine out of the box. “Well obviously I didn’t take it out the box, I’m not giving Hyuck the satisfaction of knowing I used a toy he gave me,” Renjun thinks to himself. Then again, it’s not as if Hyuck has to know Renjun used it. Then again, it’s not as if using it could be a bad idea, Renjun considers.

He drags himself out of bed to collect the box from the kitchen counter, setting it down on his bed as he begins to actually open the machine. He definitely recognizes the machine, it’s pretty famous among omega content creators due to its lightweight build and convenient suction cup base to accommodate any dildo the user pleases. He looks over at the extended assortment of toys he’s curated for tonight’s events:  a vibrating fleshlight for his cock and three different dildos in ascending length and thickness for his differing stages of need. Renjun felt his hole flutter with excitement as another gush of slick slid down his thighs.

He thinks about it for a moment, considering how much nicer it'd be if he didn’t have to be responsible for thrusting his toys in and out of his slicked hole. He decides to use the suction cup base of the fuck machine to attach it to the headboard of his bed, checking the height of his placement to ensure it would be the perfect height for him to comfortably get backshots from the toy. If he’s desperate enough for it he, reasons, first choosing to hold off from letting Donghyuck be right about something for as long as possible. With the machine firmly secured, Renjun settles back into his comfy spot in the nest. He takes off his robe, presses play on his laptop, and reaches for his fresh bottle of lube to start massaging his warm cock. 

He’s 10 minutes into watching Jae eat Jen’s ass when Renjun finally has his first orgasm. His little heaves and moans fill the room as he milks himself of his well deserved release. “Ooh…ahh…ahh...fuck!” He shouts, pulling himself further into overstimulation as his vision starts to haze over. He’s laying in a puddle of hot slick, constantly pumping out more and more as he keeps toying with his cock. He’s using his other hand to pump his fingers furiously in his asshole, loving the searing sensation of his hole stretching over his digits. “Mmm fuck...fuck, ooh make him cum Jae” he moans, picturing himself as the pornstars’ third wheel in their bedroom.

He realizes his hands aren’t gonna cut it though, he releases his cock from his vice grip and winces as he pulls his fingers from his ass to grab his fleshlight and the smallest dildo from the pile. “Oh shit,” he hisses, feeling that same intoxicating stretch to the next degree as he tries to slip the seven inch toy deep inside. He needs another large squirt of lube to get the job done, a sign he hasn’t completely gone into heat quite yet, letting his semi-delirious brain know he still has some semblance of self-control.

He pours another squirt of lube directly into the fleshlight, giving it a few pumps with his fingers, and then using those same fingers to pump his cock, before squeezing his drained but solid dick into the tight slippery hole.  He’s fully entranced in the sensations of his body now, leaking so much slick his toy keeps slipping out of his hole. The throbbing between his legs is reaching an ungodly peak, rushing his second orgasm into him like a train. “Ahhhh FUCK,” he screams, feeling the pulse of his prostate send him into overdrive. His cum and slick is pooling at the base of his dick, overflowing the fleshlight and adding to the lewd sounds deafening his ears.

He makes a move to turn up the vibrations on the toy, barely getting a chance to move his hand from the button before the pulse of his third release shakes him to the core. Renjun is completely lost at this point, barely aware of anything around him other than his seemingly never ending fountain of cum and the hypnotic sights and sounds of his favorite muscle bottom getting dicked within an inch of his life. God he wishes that was him taking alpha meat. Then he remembers it totally can be him. He grabs the biggest dick he owns, neglecting any more prep that the fifteen minutes of intense pounding hasn’t provided, and sticks the heavy dildo to the waiting base of the fuck machine.

He positions himself comfortably in front of the plastic cock, taking a moment to admire his mess on his satin sheets. “S-Shit…ohhh fuck,” he hisses as he shoves the toy into his ass. He barely gives himself a moment to adjust before he reaches for the remote to start the lowest thrusting pattern, desperate for the feeling of his hole getting stretched to its limits. Renjun lets out a low groan while the toy picks up speed. He clicks it up to the second level and jolts as the tip of the cock starts hitting his prostate. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” he groans, spilling more slick onto his sheets and sliding into his fourth orgasm, leaving his mind completely broken. He sets his fleshlight to its highest vibration and suction level, and shakes himself into another release.

If he had any ability to think critically he would be concerned for the amount of fluid leaking into his mattress, considering he’d completely forgotten to lay down the waterproof blankets he was so intent would save him a massive cleaning bill, especially since the cock in his ass causes another surge of slick to shoot from his hole. Nearing delirium, Renjun decides the dual stimulation still isn’t enough. He wants even more, he needs even more.

The smell of his slick and cum is intoxicating, leaving his brain just as fried as the underpaid alpha that nearly sprung a leak at his door earlier. He grabs the smaller dildo that he used to work his ass open at the start of his playtime, and gave it a slow lick from the balls to the tip. Tasting himself on the toy made his next orgasm even harder, sucking the head of the dildo like it was an actual alpha. Throating the cock to it’s hilt like Jae himself was fucking his throat. Renjun was officially in heat, too spent to think, and too horny to care. 

With the last bit of his reflexes he has left, he manages to switch the fuck machine to it’s highest setting, and prepares himself for the ride of his life. “Ohhhhh Shit! Oh Shit! Fuckkkkkk,” he stutters, forming the last coherent phrases he’ll be saying for a while. His head is absolutely pounding, reality is bending, and all he knows is fact are the loud moans he and Jen are churning out along with the surge of energy rushing through his ass and cock. “Ahh oh my god, oh my god,” he screams, ushering himself into otherworldly realms of pleasure.

His cock is being milked to extremes he didn’t know were possible, the pumping motions of the fleshlight sending streams of cum all over his balls and thighs from where the toy could no longer hold his load. He groans as the cock in his ass pounds into his prostate, sending him further into the orgasmic spiral he has no intention of leaving. He’s coming down from his tenth orgasm when he finally decided to give his dick a break, pulling the toy milking him for the last two hours off his cock and throwing it to the side, in the interest of laying face down ass up, fully submitting to the plastic cock he’s worshiping with every fiber of his being.

He can barely make any sounds other than small gurgles when he starts craving his own musk again, grabbing the fleshlight and sticking his tongue as deep as he can into the sopping wet hole, basking in the scent of his pleasure. He slurps up his essence as he feels his ass getting tighter, the dildo seemingly rutting rougher and rougher to break through his grip. He slides himself back even further on the toy, taking all eleven inches impossibly deep, crying out at the feeling of his stomach bulging from the cock mixing up his guts. Renjun is lost in the vortex of his heat, unable to do anything but scream in pleasure in between licking his fleshlight like it’s a real asshole, when he feels it.

His eyes go wide, his ass locks up around the plastic knot completely, the overwhelming pleasure forcing his body to mate with the cock rearranging him. The toy stops moving in and out, too suffocated by Renjuns slick walls to complete a full cycle of motion, instead sending deep thuds of pressure directly on his prostate. His eyes start rolling back as his body starts convulsing, unable to control his movements. His loud moans turn to deafening screams when a long stream of clear liquid shoots from his cock. He cries out in pleasure as he lets out endless gushes of liquid, soaking through whatever parts of his mattress weren’t already sticky with slick. His voice starts to taper off into quieter whines, soon after, Renjun’s vision goes black. 

Renjun wakes up thirty minutes later, slightly less attached to the toy. Its batteries must’ve died sometime between him squirting and passing out, but Renjun has little recollection of anything that occurred once his first heat spike hit. He hears the faint sound of his pornstars giving each other aftercare from what must’ve been a similarly intense scene in the background, figuring he should follow in Jen’s footsteps and have a bottle of water.

He rolls over in his nest, taking in the absolutely ruined state of his bed, along with the extremely satisfied feeling in his body. “Woah,” he thinks, “I gotta get Hyuck a Waffle House gift card or something.”