#you're worth nothing but these glasses did nothing to deserve this

[covertblizzard]

Such assholes I love them

[lvndosnorris]

heyyy i love ur writing ! could you please do riding lando in your fav of his cars headcanons ??

🫶🏻🫶🏻

i love this concept so much — thank you for requesting my lover 🫂

lando's grip on your thigh didn't falter once

not even when you changed his music that was humming through the radio, or when you'd told him that you and oscar were only messing around

jaw tense he ignored your fingers tracing over the back of his hand, watching him through the corner of your eye as he failed to make the right turns back to your house

just simply driving — silently, heart thrumming in his chest as he clicked his tongue against his teeth

"you should make it up to me, shouldn't you?"

his question baring not much sense as the engine finally cut, the leather becoming sticky beneath the backs of your thighs as he pulled his hand back

and before you knew it you were on his lap, the driver's sear retreated back as he gazed at you

eyebrow arched, an unamused frown toying on his lips as he almost waited for you to take initiative and do something that proved your antics earlier that night were nothing but a joke

"i was just messing baby, it wasn't nothing serious, you know that right?"

your lips trailing over his jaw, nipping at the spot just beneath his ear as your boyfriend stirred beneath you

it didn't take much time before you were yanking your shirt off, lifting upwards slightly to help undo his trousers

the clinking of his belt the only sound apart from the shared heavy panting

lando didn't need to say much more — simply trailing his forefinger down the valley between your breasts, gazing at you with a blank stare as you pouted playfully

trailed down beneath your thighs his hands would cup you, handling you in a position that had your bare chest against his and your foreheads touching

intimate through his movements and the lack of space

despite being in public, simply pulled over on the side of the road in a quietened area, he had no qualms about getting what he wanted

what he deserved

a fist wrapped at the base of his cock as he ran it over your heat, hot air fanning over his face as you practically purred at the feeling

usually he'd warm you up a little more — stretch you with his fingers, make sure he got a taste before filling you

but this time was different

it was rushed

needier as he slipped just the tip in

"maybe this is all you're getting, all you're worth. do you think you deserve more angel?"

even though he asked you he knew that you're answer was pointless to him

using your hips as leverage to drag you up and down his length, vision not once leaving your face

one hand pressed against the glass of the window he swallowed back a moan, suppressing the urge to drop the annoyed jealous boyfriend act to call you his pretty little thing

giving into his temptations at long last as he bucked up to meet the slow movements halfway, wincing as his cock kissed your cervix delightfully

there was a slight sting, one that flashed over your features as you whined his name

drawling it out as you knew it would cause a frenzy to erupt in lando's mind

and it did

the sound of leather squeaking as he picked up the pace he was fucking up into you at, your back arched as your head fell back in waves of pleasure

"lando— someone will see—"

pathetic attempts at trying to gain some composure overtaken by your cunt squeezing him, almost sucking him into you, desperate to have him deeper as you felt the cool of the steering wheel tickle your back

[frenchkisstheabyss]

฿ⱠɄɆ ₥Ø₦Đ₳Ɏ

୨୧ Pairing: assassin!soobin x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: crime au/angst/smut

୨୧ Summary: Carrying a hit out on a corrupt politician at the charity event of the year might seem extreme to most women but it's a regular Friday night for you. Things like this should go smoothly, only tonight you're not the only one on the hunt.

Someone's out to get you too. Someone who knows your every move as if they were his own. But can he actually go through with killing you or will feelings from the past cause him to abandon his mission altogether?

୨୧ Word Count: 2.8k

୨୧ Warnings: you're an assassin so, ya know, guns/knives/mentions of assassinations but no actual deaths, fingering, marking, a lil bit of roughness, unprotected sex, for sure praise kink vibes, pet names (baby), and i'm pretty sure that's all.

୨୧ A/N: I'm dedicating this fic to @anyamaris who's honestly the entire reason that I wrote this to begin with. I've never met anyone who cares so deeply about what it is that other people want so here's something that's all about you because you deserve that and so much more. I hope my silly lil angsty assassin low key rom com smut makes you smile 💜

An $11,000 crystal chandelier hangs high above your head, casting a soft copper glow across the dim ballroom. Three others like it are positioned a few feet apart, framing a painting on the ceiling worth more than the four of them combined. No one raises their head to admire the beauty that the mayor’s dirty money went into crafting. They’re too distracted by the action on the floor. Champagne towers, a gorgeous woman singing atop a grand piano, mistresses in tight dresses, and business. Of course, the business. That’s what they’re really here for.

Everyone thinks that last week’s charity ball, full of senators dining with their families and taking photos with less fortunate children, was where the fate of the city was decided. But no, it’s here, in dark corners with men whose faces you’ll never see in the daylight, that corruption thrives and fates are truly decided. It turns your stomach to be here arm in arm with the Chief District Judge, smiling and nodding at every misogynistic comment he makes about the way you look tonight.

He picked it out for you, this curve hugging black dress with a slit high enough to let his mind wander to places you wish it wouldn’t. It makes you wish that he were your target for tonight but, no, instead it’s the senator halfway across the room shaking hands with old friends while his companion gets drunk enough to pretend she’s actually attracted to him. You need to get him alone but the bastard’s never alone. They should’ve just let you snipe him, quick and clean.

Your boss insisted upon something intimate though. Something sure and nothing's surer than confirming a kill with your own two eyes. Studying his movements, you’re caught off guard by a familiar scent. Cologne, powdery with notes of citrus. It brings you back to a time before all of this when you were a petty thief living in your little hole in the wall apartment with—

“Walk away” a passing voice whispers, marrying with the scent of the cologne like two pieces of the same puzzle. “It can’t be” you gasp, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Turning your head, you catch a glimpse of a ghost from your past shifting through the crowd. Soobin. Tall, handsome, and impossible to take your eyes off of. Your palms begin to sweat, making the neck of the champagne glass slippery in your hand.

“What did you say, dear?” the Chief District Judge asks, placing his hand on yours. You smile, innocently sipping your champagne, “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to go to the little girl’s room.” “Oh, of course, but hurry back to me. Wouldn’t want another man to snatch you up now, would I?” “You’re so silly,” you giggle, “I’m all yours.” Sitting your glass down, you summon all of your nerves and make your way toward the stairs that lead to the second floor.

Your date’s gaze is burning through your dress, enjoying the way the fabric moves against your body as you advance the stairs. It’d make you want to crawl out of your skin if your attention wasn’t still glued on Soobin. He watches you from the bar and, even at this distance, you catch yourself drowning in the pools of chestnut he calls eyes. It’s been an eternity since you’ve seen him in a suit, long enough that you’d forgotten how elegant he looks in one.

Your brain’s wracked with questions. What’s he doing here? Is he on the same job? Why’s he telling you to walk away? Making a quick left turn, you dip into the bathroom and rush into one of the stalls to gather yourself. You take a deep breath, peeking beneath the other stalls to be sure you don’t have company. All clear. “Just relax, okay? Don’t let him throw you off your game. You will finish this. Pretend he isn’t even here. He doesn’t even exist.”

The bathroom door swings open, and a pair of black laced Prada Oxfords step inside. “Baby?” Soobin sings, locking the door behind him. Staring straight ahead he sees nothing. Only polished marble sinks and spotless mirrors reflecting a motionless row of stalls. “I know you’re in here,” he says, quietly pushing open the door to the nearest stall. Empty. “So why don’t you just come out?” Kicking off your heels, you retrieve the knife tucked into your garter. At the same time, Soobin slips out the gun hidden beneath his suit jacket.

He pushes open the door to the second stall and the auto sensor flushes the toilet, giving you both a miniature heart attack. Soobin laughs, moving on to the next stall, “And what’s behind door number 3?” The door flies open and out you come, the tip of your blade slicing through the arm of his jacket. Soobin spins you off in the direction of the sink but catches you before your lower back hits the edge. 

“Why do you have a knife?” 

“Why do you have a gun?” 

“That’s fair.” 

Kneeing him in the stomach, you wrap your arm around his and struggle to grab hold of the gun. “Stop it!” he demands, gripping you by the back of your dress and tossing you back into the stall you came out of. Regaining your footing, you move to charge back at him but the barrel of his gun’s already aimed at your kneecaps. “Shit,” you mumble, pissed at yourself for not having moved quicker, “What do you want?”

“Walk away” he answers. The same words he whispered to you moments ago, only there’s a nearly undetectable drop of sadness in them now that he has to face you. You still look like the picture of you he keeps in his phone. A few years older, a few more kills to your name, but a dream to behold nonetheless. 

“You know I can’t do that. I have a job to do.”

“So do I but I don’t wanna do it” he begs, the sadness in his voice growing heavier, “Please don’t make me do it.”

He aims the barrel at your chest and he might as well pull the trigger because the pain that penetrates your heart makes you want to fold over. You’d expected that someday someone would be sent to stop you but him? Being assigned to different agencies had done a lot to tear you apart but your love for him never changed. Maybe you’d been foolish to think that he would feel the same. “Me? You took a job to kill me?”

“I had no choice. It’s nothing personal.” “Nothing personal?” you shout, the hurt quickly turning to anger, “Bullshit. So, if I don’t agree to walk away, you pull the trigger, is that right?” Soobin’s shoulders drop, his head turning away from you, “That’s right.” “Then pull the trigger,” you say, stepping forward so that it’s pressed to your chest. Soobin turns back to you, his face twisted in a scowl, “Don’t say that.” Your heart’s racing a mile a minute and the handle of your blade’s clenched so tightly in your fist that it’s creating an imprint on your palm.

You don’t want to die but if you don’t finish this your boss will kill you anyway. “Pull the trigger” you repeat, searching his eyes for any sign of the man who used to hold you on dark nights when the world felt too scary to face. Soobin was once your protector. He wishes that he still could be. He wants to be. Why’d you have to follow him into this world? He left you behind to give you a chance at something normal with someone normal. Why couldn’t you just walk away? Why can’t you now?

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he groans, fighting his body’s urge to become a jittery mess. You crack a teary eyed smile, “You used to love that about me.” It’s ever present in his mind that if he doesn’t do this he’ll have hell to pay. He can’t just let you go. He can’t but...shit, he has to. He lowers his gun, sliding open the magazine and emptying the bullets onto the floor. Nothing in this world could ever make him hurt you. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it up those stairs alive. You, though, are untouchable.

Soobin walks over to the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. What he’s just done is a death sentence. The price on your head has just transferred onto his. It’s only a matter of hours, two or maybe three, before he’s blacklisted. “Soob,” you say, placing your knife down on the sink, “You still care.” He glances at you in the mirror, amazed at how such an intelligent woman can be this clueless. “I never stopped caring. I don’t think I can. I probably won’t stop loving you until—” You take his hand, stroking his fingers, “Stay with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He gently squeezes your hand, a quiet acknowledgment of your attempt to comfort him. “It’s better for you without me here.” “Just like your note said before” you sigh, pulling your hand back. It’s deja vu. He’s pushing you away like he always has. Last time you fought your hardest to keep him but not this time. “You love me” you scoff, making your way back into the stall to collect your things, “But I’m still not enough for you to stay. Not even when your life depends on it.”

Reaching down to slip one of your heels back on, you feel a set of arms around your waist. They embrace you firmly enough to keep you close and softly enough to communicate that there’s nothing to fear. You turn in time to be kissed with such passion that you forget these are the lips of the man sent to kill you. None of that means anything. You only care that they’re on yours, his hands hungrily gripping at your hips…your thighs…your ass…any part of you he can reach.

There are no fireworks between you. The need that’s built up for you both is too strong to reduce to technicolored sparks in the night sky. This is an atomic bomb. A force strong enough to wreck you and you welcome it with open arms. Soobin can’t steal his mouth away from yours, he’s glued to you. “You’re more than enough” he promises, backing you against the wall, “So much more.” “Then why do you run away?” you ask, tearing his jacket even more as you help him out of it. He lifts your dress, letting his palm skim the lace of your panties. “I’m no good for you.”

Ripping his shirt open, you send buttons clinking to the ground where the bullets lay. You touch his chest and feel his body tense as you tease your way down to his belt. “I never asked you to be good for me. Be bad for me” you whine, squeezing your thighs to get the friction you find yourself growing desperate for. Flipping you around, he slaps your ass just the way you like. You arch your back as his thumb tucks your panties to the side, his middle and pointer fingers pushing into you.

In the quiet of the empty bathroom, all he can hear are your low sweet, moans and the splashing of your juices each time his fingers curl into your core. “You feel so good on my fingers, baby. Just dripping for me” he growls, his other hand coming around your neck to bring you closer to him. Your nails claw at the wall, the feeling of being pressed against it as his fingers fuck deeper into you intense enough to make you want to climb it.

Reaching back, you knot your fingers into his hair, pulling at it each time he hits your sweet spot. “One more” you moan, grinding back against his hand. “One more? You sure you can take it?” You nod, feeling a third finger brush your inner thigh, “I can take it, mmm, oh god.” His third finger slides into you slowly, his wrist rotating to stimulate you from every angle. “That’s it, baby. Take it for me. You like it when I fill you up with my fingers?” “Yes, I…I love it. So good. So—”

The door to the bathroom jiggles and you both freeze completely. At least you do. Soobin’s still except his fingers which remain inside of you, moving at a tortourlsy slow pace. The door jiggles again and there’s the low chattering of a group of women.

“Cut it out. What if they get in?” you whisper, turning to stop him. Soobin smiles down at you, sweeping you into another kiss, “So what if they get in?” Hooking his arms behind your legs, he lifts you off of your feet, the tip of his cock flicking at your clit. Your body shivers, making enough sound to give pause to the women outside. “You’re terrible” you giggle, reaching between you to stroke his length. You lightly trace the head of his cock with your thumb, guiding him closer and closer to your slit.

Soobin lowers his hips, raising them to thrust into you a little at a time until you’re writhing on his cock, too full to know what to do with yourself. Catching you staring up at him, your eyes sparkling like stars, makes the air feel thinner. It’s like he’s somewhere high up, climbing a mountain and losing air the higher he goes but he can’t stop. The way you make him feel, he can’t let go of it. Reaching up to cup his face, you plant kisses on his bare chest, choking back moans. “You’re perfect,” you say, meaning it with all your heart.

Soobin shakes his head, spreading your legs wider, “Not as perfect as you. Never as perfect as you.” The noise outside of the door quiets as the women give up, heading off in search of another bathroom. Soobin wastes no time thrusting into you, gripping your thighs hard enough to mark you. “Fuck, yes, just like that, ah!” Your lids fall closed and maybe Soobin was right, there must be stars in your eyes because they’re all you see in the darkness. “You’re so tight for me. So warm. I want you to cum for me” he whispers, pushing in deeper and holding you there. “Cum for me and don’t hold back.”

Grinding you onto him, he can feel every part of you and you feel every part of him. The twitching of every vein traveling up his length in response to the clenching of your walls. You’re the cutest thing, your body shivering, pillowy tits bouncing, filling the bathroom with incoherent moans. It’s almost as if he has you wrapped around his finger, something like a rubber band, twisted around and around until you’re pushed so far beyond your limits that you’re about to snap. 

“Oh…” is all you get out before you break, grasping at his chest as your senses are overtaken by something too heavenly to fathom. “My little killer” he coos, kissing the last bit of smeared lipstick from your lips, “You’ve always been worth it.” The clock’s ticking on his mission and soon on his life as well. All he wants with whatever precious minutes he has left is to stay in this moment with you but life, as always, has different plans. 

A phone sounds, a wistful ringtone echoing through the bathroom. Opening your eyes, you glance down at the phone peeking out of his jacket pocket. The screen flashes RESTRICTED. “Better get that,” you say, patting him on the arm to let him know it’s okay. Soobin carefully lets your legs down, only reaching for the phone when he’s sure you’re okay. “Hello? Yes. I know, I should’ve reached out sooner. I—” His attention momentarily strays to you gathering bullets from the floor and loading them back into his gun. “Did I handle her? Confirmed. Mission complete.”

Hanging up, he tosses it across the floor and you shoot it. Perfect aim. “They’ll be sending someone to confirm the kill soon,” he says, readjusting his pants to make himself decent, “We should get going.” “We?” you ask, checking to make sure you heard him right. Bundling your things up in his jacket, he approaches you much too happily for such a dire situation. “Yes, we, if you’ll have me.”

You take your heels from him, throwing them back on. “Of course, I will. Just one thing, point another gun at me and I’ll kill you.” Throwing your purse over your shoulder you float over to the bathroom door, still high off of your orgasm, and unlock it. Soobin trails behind you, content to do so for the rest of his life, “Point gun. Die. Noted.”

[rotonalhaitham]

Alhaitham - Mission Accomplished (NSFW)

Alhaitham x Reader x Kaveh

I love kaveh yall I'm gonna start to sob,, also i tried my best to make reader gn but ehh I guess it didn't work

Warnings: NSFW!!!!!! Threesome, dacryphillia, prn with plot (i think?? Idfk), overstimulation,reader was called a princess, not proof read as usual , the ending was rushed because my eyes hurt from looking at the monitor, I'm very sleepy as I write this so expect grammatical errors and typos (lemme know if i missed a warning) (im fighting myself whether I should post this or not, but tommorow is monday i need to post something or else i wouldn't post at all arghh)

Broken hearted.

You thought confessing to your long time crush was a good idea. Turns out, it wasn't. Before even approaching him you saw a girl in his arms, failing to call out his name. Your heart shattered like broken glass. It took all your courage to have confidence and to confess to your crush, suddenly all of those courage disappeared into thin air.

You go home to your shared apartment. Where your architect and feeble scholar roomates are waiting for you.

They were a bit surprised and disappointed after seeing you on the front door just a few minutes after you left. You we're also sobbing while you stood there, looking down on the floor.

Kaveh and Alhaitham looked at each other with a knowing look. They already knew what happened, and instantly ran towards you to comfort their roommate.

Kaveh opened his arms at you. Slowly, you hug him, sobbing in his arms more. The blonde haired architect tightly embraced you. He gave you a peck on your forehead and ran his long and slender finger through your hair.

"Hush now... I knew that boy wasn't worth your time. Tsk."

Said Kaveh with anger in his voice. Behind him, Alhaitham nodded.

"Don't worry darling, we're here for you."

Alhaitham added.

--------

Now sitting on the bed, you're still sobbing, but not as intense as earlier. Your roommates did a pretty good job calming you, as they embraced you, gave you your favorite tea, cooked your favorite food, they did everything for your comfort.

Kaveh seemed to notice that you calmed down, so he sat beside you and softly smiled.

"Feeling better, princess?"

He whispered and placed one of his hand on your cheeks. You quickly leaned on his warm hand and nodded to answer his question.

You felt the bed dip as Alhaitham sat beside you and heared his voice.

"That's good to know. But we still have something to offer for you."

"Mhm.. Oh, we couldn't handle seeing you weeping about someone not worth your time..."

Kaveh's voice sounded huskier than before.

"You deserve better darling, and we promise to treat you better."

Alhaitham said.

He placed his hands on your hips making you gasp. Kaveh was getting closer to your face, his thumb rubbing your lips gently. Your breathing was getting heavier and heavier as the tension in the air thickened.

"Just relax, and we'll do the rest."

You can feel Kaveh's warm breath as your faces are only inches away. His half-lidded eyes were nothing but full of lust. His soft lips slowly touched yours, and it felt amazing. The kiss was wet and sloppy, but neither of you wanted to stop.

Your head was turning from what is currently happening. You can't deny your stomach feeling butterflies from their touches, and your underwear getting wet.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham started to pepper your neck with light kisses. It made you moan from the kiss and leaned more into Alhaitham. Getting impatient, the grey haired scholar started to devour your skin. He bit, licked, and left marks on your neck. This made you aroused more, causing your sex to throb from their kisses.

The kiss between you and Kaveh ended with a string of saliva between your lips and his. You both needed to breathe, sadly. But you couldn't stop whining because of Alhaitham's kisses.

"Gosh... Your lips are softer than I thought they'd be.. Fuck."

Kaveh's words did nothing but help you feel aroused more.

Alhaitham from behind tugged your shirt upwards, signaling for you to help him take off your shirt. You obliged, revealing your naked top. The grey haired man didn't waste anytime and immediately massaged your breast from behind. Playing with your nipples, he continued to lap your neck and mark them with bites and hickeys. Your head leaned back to Alhaitham's shoulders from the pleasure, a few soft moans escaping your mouth.

Kaveh seeing your state, he didn't want to just watch there, he tugged your pants down, leaving only your underwear. He went down to kiss your legs, making you moan a bit louder. He started to kiss from your leg motioning up to your inner thighs. It made your back arch and your legs trying to close, but Kaveh's hands were stopping them. He licked and bit your thighs, until he reached the real deal.

Still wearing your underwear, yet Kaveh didn't care. He started to lick through the wet piece of cloth and didn't stop. Your moans getting louder ever swipe of his tounge. You moaned his name, eyes rolling back. The pleasure being strong, you instinctively grabbed his hair.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself darling."

Alhaitham chuckled.

The two can't deny the tightening of their pants and the desire to ruin you. But they couldn't just do that, this moment is for your pleasure. Maybe they'll ruin you next time.

Kaveh removed your underwear after feeling satisfied with his licks. Your hips jolted only by feeling his hot breath on your sex. The blonde gave your throbbing sex a big and long lick. He then sucked your juices dry.

While eating you out, Kaveh inserted two fingersin your hole, going in and out adding more pleasure. He curved his fingers, hitting sweet spots. You couldn't help but moan his name. His dark red eyes gazing deliciously at you, admiring how he's the reason why you're moaning so loudly.

It didn't took long till you release on the blonde's face. He licked his fingers that we're just inside of you, not breaking eye contact.

"Do you feel good?"

Alhaitham asked as he shifted your body to face him, making your back face Kaveh.

You didn't got to answer as Alhaitham slammed his lips onto you. Meanwhile, Kaveh taking out his hard rock cock and giving it a few strokes before placing his tip on your entrance. He rubbed his tip up and down as you and Alhaitham make out.

Finally pulling out of the kiss, the grey haired man kissed and savored your body down, 'till reaching your quivering sex.

Alhaitham started to eat you out just like Kaveh did. But hell did Alhaitham's tounge felt better than Kaveh's, as it is much more longer.

Kaveh suddenly entered your hole slowly while Alhaitham worked in your front. The pleasure is too strong it made you sob continously.

Kaveh's cock fully inside, he started to thrust, his hands on your hips as Alhaitham licked and sucked in the front.

The pleasure is too good your eues we're rolling back and your back arching as you almost drool. You certainly did not expect this turn of events.

Kaveh's thrust started to fastened up but sloppier, and Alhaitham started to jerk his cock as he devoured your sex. You we're close, and so are they. You can feel Kaveh's cock throbbing and Alhaitham whining, the three of you didn't want to stop, getting closer to your own each climaxes.

The room was filled with wet sounds, aswell as moans from the three of you.

A few thrust and suck after, the three of you finally came.

"Did you enjoyed our offer.. Princess?"

Kaveh managed to mumble even after what happend.

Your couldn't comprehend what he was saying from the overstimulation, and felt your body heavier than before. Without being aware, you fell asleep on Kaveh's arms.

"Look, they're already sleeping.. So cute.."

Alhaitham chuckled at your state and caressed your face.

From all the juices that came out from you, they assumed you felt better than before. Mission Accomplished.

[ladymarycrawley]

Pampering night - John Stones

Not based on any request but sth I felt like writing because I was in a fluffy mood plus I've been missing that goofy tall man way too much 🥰

Warning: none, a lot of fluff

Tag list: @prideofpd @masonxomount @johnstonesfc

Small things are what make life worth living, or what make it a little more bearable at least.

Going back home after a long day at work, looking forward to a hot shower was among those little things aforementioned: that new rose scented shower gel waiting for you in the cubicle as well as the new hair mask you bought a couple of days ago made you eager to go to your nest.

When you inserted the key in the front door's lock to open it you were met with darkness and silence, meaning John was still out for training.

The first thing you did was taking off your shoes, a little satisfied moan following that gesture, as you left your bag on the armchair at the entrance where you would usually leave your things.

Secondly you went upstairs, entering your bedroom where you got rid of your clothes ready to have your well deserved shower. You walked in your bathroom and turned on the faucet to let some warm water roll down as you took your phone to message your boyfriend to let him know you were home.

A couple of minutes later you tested the water's temperature with your hand and you smiled when it got warm enough for you to hop in.

Needless to day you took all your time to wash your body and your hair, humming to the pop jams that were serving as the perfect soundtrack for that relaxing moment. You were all by yourself meaning you could sing out loud in peace, not worrying about bothering anyone and that made you feel so free.

As a natural consequence you didn’t hear when John came back home, an hour after you more or less. He smiled when entering your shared house as the sound of music mixed with your voice reached his ears.

The Manchester City player left his duffle bag downstairs near yours and walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of water, before following the noise that welcomed him and that would have led him upstairs.

When he got there you got out of the shower and turned off the music, wincing when his tall figure met your glance.

"Hello there"

"Hi…you were so quiet I didn't hear you coming back"

"You're too busy performing your own concert" He giggled, thinking about the 80s tune you were singing your heart out to, while getting closer to your lips.

You whined against him as he kissed your lips sweetly.

"How was your day?" You asked him as usual, walkingto where your divider was to discard your bathrobe on the floor and put on one of those big t-shirts you would usually use as pajamas.

"Yeah good, nothing special…" He answered absentmindedly while abandoning his body on the soft surface of the mattress underneath him. "Kinda tired though"

You popped your head to the side to catch a glimpse of his long legs dangling down the bed.

The only thing you had to get rid off was the towel you had wrapped around your head as a turban but, before that, you walked closer to the bed and slowly lowered your body over his to kiss him on the lips.

"Poor baby boy, it seems like you need some good pampering…"

John knew you too well to know what that pampering you were referring to meant and it was some skin care ritual you were keen on doing every now and then.

"I don't need any masks, thank you"

"The vitamin C one I got the other day would be perfect for you"

"Y/N" He huffed.

"I love you, remember that" You whispered, planting another peck to his lips as your towel fell from your head, causing his face to be covered with the cloth and your wet hair.

"Sorry babe" You laughed, trying to throw your hair back.

"I've read wet hair on your face count as a mask"

"John"

"What?? Not my fault you haven't been keeping up with the latest beauty secrets"

You got up from him to go and dry your hair, leaving the trail of perfume of your shower gel behind you. It was a pleasurable feeling, you felt so light and so careless and that was exactly what you needed to unwind.

Getting back to the bathroom your stare fell on the giant mirror before you where you could see John's figure getting up from the bed and scrolling a bit through his phone before taking off his jumper and dragging himself around the room shirtless.

The sound of the appliance in your hand thankfully covered the loud gulp you emitted at that sight: it was stronger than you, even after a fair while together you couldn’t get used to the perfection he embodied. He felt so good to be true

On his part he was a little shit because he knew how you felt and didn't lose any opportunity to tease you. He got closer to you to stand behind your body. To balance himself he pressed a hand on the counter before you and the other one on your hip bone as he placed his lips on your neck, to be more precise on the spot where your neck met your collarbone. 

You sighed and turned off the hair dryer to enjoy his loving cuddles, covering both his hands with yours.

"Are you ready to go back playing?" You asked him, referring to his injury. 

John nodded, brushing his nose against your jaw.

"Might be back for the game against Leipzig"

"That's great baby!" You squealed, turning to face him and cupping his face with your hands to kiss him. "So you need a mask to go back on the pitch in all your glamour, ready to defeat your opponents, blinding them with your hotness"

He rolled his eyes knowing full well he couldn’t resist you much longer, he had to give in to the skin care menace.

He stood there, hands on his hips looking kind of hopeless, waiting for you to apply the fabric mask on his face.

"John love, can you bend down a little? Can't reach it"

Every little thing that highlighted your height difference never failed to make him laugh and so he did that time too.

"Gonna sit down" He chuckled while walking backwards towards the the edge of the bed where he sat down to let you do your work. "is this height okay for you, little one?"

"Yeah, thank you" You muttered, a little stung by his jab.

John found you adorable when you got all annoyed and grinned, squeezing your bum affectionately.

"I have to shave actually, can I do it later?"

"No! You should have done it before the mask!"

"I'm still on time! You haven't applied anything yet on me face"

It was now your turn to roll your eyes as you already had the fabric thing in your hands, ready to put it on his features. 

"Go ahead then" You bumbled, moving to the side so he could go take his razor. "You don't have to shave, you want to"

"Babe -"

"You know what I think about your beard"

"And you know what I think about it too"

As he was busy doing his thing, you wasted no time and in the meanwhile and applied your lotus flower eye patches under your tired eyes.

You were nothing but perfect in your eyes: two people madly in love doing small ordinary, almost unremarkable things together, made special by the love that kept you together. 

That moment no doubt would be impressed in your mind forever but you also wanted to have something material that would have helped you reliving it in the future too so you took your phone to snap a picture of it: John brushing the razor against his upper neck as you wrapped your left arm around his chest, bright pink patches on, holding the phone with your right hand to take the picture.

You smiled looking at the final result on your screen.

"Look how cute we are" You gushed showing him the picture. "Gonna use it as my lockscreen"

John didn't like the idea of you "displaying" your love at the whim of indiscreet eyes, someone that could spy on your private world that was for the two of you only.

"Come on, you once put an x-rated pic as your lockscreen!" You whined referring to a particularly hot photo session where he would use the one he took of him biting on your bum.

"It was just a joke! I put it just to mock you and removed it soon after"

"Yeah just in time for Rúben and Kyle to see it" You grumbled quite bothered by that event.

John, on his side, found it sort of amusing and started giggling "Well, it means I succeeded in taking the piss"

"Ha ha how funny…come on, the mask is waiting for you"

While you were keeping your eye patches posing you basically pushed John to sit on the edge of the bed to apply that damn mask on his face.

"Ok so now you'll keep this for the next 25 minutes and shut that pretty mouth of yours up"

You both had to keep it on for 25 minutes so you took advantage of that time to chill out on your bed: you got seated with your back against the headrest, your legs stretched out as John would use you as his pillow, resting his head on your upper body.

That posture together with the gentle scalp massage your fingers were applying on his head, made him release all the tension built up in the last weeks and ended up falling asleep. The little snores coming out of his mouth borught a genuine smile to your face and removed his phone from his hands. You kept on moving your hand through his curls. 

Those small things were what made your life worth living, having your favourite human being by your side to share them with was an added value that felt like the biggest gift life could ever give you.

[split-spectrum]

Pretty Young Thing

One-shot

Pairing: Obi-Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: Explicit content. Just filth. PWP. Listen, I just wanted to give this man a break. He deserves gratuitous sex and alcohol.

"No names."

It was the singular rule he had, in all the years you'd known him.

Was 'known' the right word? Did you consider yourself an acquaintance if you know exactly how slow he likes to fuck, but you don't ask him where his newest scar came from, and he doesn't ask you why you've moved apartments?

☆☆☆

Sometimes he had you repeat it back to him when you first started meeting; a sort of reassurance for him that nothing could follow him back to his life - back to reality. You would whisper it to him without hesitation.

"No names," he would remind you breathlessly while shedding his clothing, one hand remaining on your skin, his mouth inches from your ear.

"Don't worry," you would assure him.

He'd rake his fingers over your shoulders, pulling you closer and pressing his mouth urgently against yours. "Say it- say it back."

You would grin, always uncertain if he was asking to make sure you understood, or just working himself up more. He liked to hear the words, and you always knew by the way his body responded when you said them. 

"No names."

Tonight, the words ring in your head as you lean against the bar, replaying the images of past nights in the back of your mind, waiting. You were always waiting on him.

That afternoon you'd heard he was back on Coruscant, and your last meeting of the day couldn't end soon enough. You both knew the time and place. If he was on the planet, you never missed the spot. Some nights he left you waiting until the bar closed, never making an appearance. But you knew if he could come, he would. And he was always worth the wait.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

You're surrounded by pulsing bodies and throbbing music which makes it nearly impossible to hear one individual over all the noise. But that voice will always get your attention. 

He leans in closer as you tilt your gaze in his direction. "Or were you waiting for someone?"

You smile. "I was, but he's disappointed me before. I was just about to leave."

His eyebrows raise. "Anyone who would disappoint you must be very foolish." He pauses. "Or exceedingly disappointed, himself. The only thing that could be more important than a night with you would be the fate of the galaxy."

He adds another pause while your mouth twists in feigned displeasure. "...one would imagine."

His mouth slides into a grin, and you can't help but return it, the way his eyes sparkle when they meet yours. He pulls his attention away to signal the bartender, and when you take your drink and leave, he follows you to a dark corner. You turn to face him when you reach the wall, away from prying eyes.

You take a sip, while he downs half of his drink in a single, greedy swallow. He places the glass on a nearby table and stands next to you, first curling one arm around your back, slowly, then following it with the rest of his body to move behind you. He rests the back of a finger against your shoulder and smooths it down your bare arm as you continue to sip. 

A shiver runs through you at his touch, and you keep staring forward. "Your hair is so long, now."

You feel him smile against your cheek when he presses himself closer to you. "Haven't had much time for a cut, I'm afraid."

"I like it," you tell him. "Makes you look younger."

He laughs, and you love the way it feels, the vibrations leaving his chest and sinking into your back. "I suppose I need all the help I can get."

A new song begins, changing the atmosphere from loud and fast-paced to a darker mood, more intense. His body starts to move against yours, rolling from his shoulders down to his waist. You lean into him, eyes closing when he lets his head come down to your shoulder and his beard tickles your neck. His rich, clean scent saturates your brain with thoughts only of him, and how much you've missed the feel of him against you. 

You both get lost in the music for a long time, enjoying the escape of dancing without thinking. His arms surround you, and you turn to look at his face. The sickly lights of the scummy bar reflect over his features and he's positively radiant, as usual. You lean in for a kiss. His mouth welcomes you as it always does, perfect and soft, the taste of him as sweet as ever, even through the notes of liquor on his breath. 

He returns your kiss with a languid swipe of his tongue, only breaking hesitantly away after a long moment to check your surroundings. You know he's looking to see if anyone is staring, but you take the opportunity to flag down someone walking past, carrying a tray of drinks. You exchange a few credits and press the shot into his hand. 

"You need to loosen up."

He gives you another grin, his teeth glinting in the dim light as he throws back the shot. He doesn't react, doesn't squint, doesn't pause. It might well have been water, the way he instantly goes back to kissing you. 

When his lips meet yours, everything else becomes a blur - the bar, the street outside, the back of the cab, your apartment. Details. Unimportant when he's tugging on your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over yours, parting your mouths to softly brush his thumb over your jaw. Only a brief moment seems to pass, and all at once you're keying in the code to the front door of your apartment.

You tumble through the door, kicking it closed behind you, and he's already pulling off his clothes. He drops his grey cloak at the door, stepping over it to push you toward the seating area of your living room. His hands fall to the waist of his pants, carelessly tugging at the hem of his shapeless blue shirt, pulling it over his head before you can even ask. His mouth is back at your neck as soon as he's free, his bare shoulders crowding you, pressing you down into the couch. 

Your arms slide down his back and you suppress a whine at the way his fingers impatiently unfasten the front of your shirt. As soon as you feel his bare skin on yours, your hand plummets downward desperately. His hands have finished their work, pulling the front of your shirt open just as you make contact. He stops, back hunched, and drops his head forward. The way his locks of hair fall forward over his face is immaculate, and you take your time, just soaking in the sight of him. 

His eyes are closed, brows furrowed. The shadows of his eyelashes darken his face. You brush your hand over the length of him through his pants. His mouth falls open.

"Touch me," he whispers, leaning in to close his mouth over yours. "Touch me."

You pull your palm over the front of his pants, enjoying the shape of him, then dip your fingers below his waistband and start to stroke him, finally making contact with the warmth of his skin. You revel in the way he instantly thrusts against your open hand. You've barely grazed him and he's already bucking earnestly for more. 

"I'm going to put on some music," you murmur into his ear, leaning upward and taking your hand out of the front of his clothes. 

"Ngh?" he makes a desperate noise at the loss of contact and you smile at the way his gorgeous blue eyes gloss over with confusion, following your movements as you reach for a remote on the table nearby. You know he tends to lose himself even more when you play music for him. 

It reminds you of the first time you did this. Years ago, when he was a fresh knight, barely more than a padawan, and you were just a senator's intern, newly arrived on the planet. He'd been so shy, so unsure of himself. So unsure of what he wanted. You'd chatted all night, and when you'd mentioned your love for music he'd invited you to listen to him play the quetarra back in his quarters. Of course he'd said he wasn't any good, only an amateur, but he'd played beautifully. Since that night you'd met at every opportunity throughout the changing of your respective careers. And never once had he asked your name. He insisted it kept him from forming an attachment, and you were only so happy to oblige, so long as he kept coming back.

The music is playing now, filling the apartment with quiet pulses of bass. No sooner have you put down the remote than he's sliding his leg between your knees, spreading them on the couch, and kissing your neck. His hand deftly unfastens the clasp of your belt and moves it to the side, slipping beneath the waist of your pants. He lets out a soft breath when his fingers drop easily between your legs. You're almost embarrassed at the way his hand is slicked with you, but he makes a quiet "Oh..." sound against your neck and it's instantly clear how much it turns him on.

He pulls back to look down at you, locking his eyes onto yours as he pushes two fingers inside you, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he grins wickedly at your response. You gasp, gripping the side of his forearm, muscles there tight as he starts to work his fingers inside you, brushing up against the perfect spot he knows will melt you into a whimpering mess. 

It doesn't take long before you're biting back pitiful noises, writhing against him as he pulls your sanity apart. You're not above begging when it comes to him, and he knows it. He's waiting for it. 

"Please..."

He cups your jaw in his hand and kisses you deeply, still pumping his fingers diligently, maddeningly.

"Anything. What is it?"

"Need you. Please. Please, fuck me."

All the lightness leaves his face at once. He's no longer in a playful mood when he tugs the front of your remaining clothes down, pressing one hand into the couch beside your head while the other wraps around his cock. His knees keep your legs spread, and in one fluid motion, he's inside you. 

He doesn't even stop to let you process the sensation of him. He's inside you and his pace is immediate and perfect. Slow, steady, gorgeous. The only sound he makes when you're finally wrapped around him is a quiet panting, the usual rigid air about him being incrementally replaced with an animalistic state of zen. 

You feel every inch of him, the way he gives it to you as if each movement is an artistic choice, building and building the warmth inside you until you're shamelessly moaning for more. You arch your back, giving him more room to fill you, and his pace finally stutters. You smirk at the way his eyes roll back. 

"You feel incredible."

His hips start to snap, his rhythm faltering. "Don't...  don't say things like that, or I won't... last..."

You can't help it. A groan escapes you at his admission and you buck your hips upward to meet him. "So good. So fucking... good."

"Stars," he gasps, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut. "Shit-"

He pauses, clenching his jaw as if concentrating deeply, holding back. Finally, he rasps, "Darling, come for me."

He slides a hand between your legs and gently works his thumb over you, bringing you screaming over the edge all at once, your hands flying up to grip his neck, desperately grasping to make sure he keeps pounding into you while you whimper out your bliss. 

He keeps his rhythm steady, working out every last drop of your orgasm until you're spent and gasping for air, before he finally begins to lose his composure, raggedly grinding into you. He brings a hand behind your head, fingers tangling into your hair while he finishes, his cock sliding in and out of you as his cum spills out between your legs, coating the insides of your thighs in a sticky, beautiful mess. 

He stays inside you like this for a long time, arms shaking, as you both catch your breath. His face is glowing when he looks down at you, catching your lips in a messy half-smiling kiss.

You let out a deep sigh, brushing your hands through his hair when he finally slides out of you and collapses beside you. You're going to lie like this for as long as you can. Breathless, thoughtless, nameless, and wrapped in the arms of Obi Wan fucking Kenobi, you're going to fall asleep.

[chaifootsteps]

So Raph finally, once again, straight up admitted he's not an SA victim.

I have to give him credit for being honest. Lying about SA (which sadly does happen and I know people don't want to think about it, but it does happen) is a very disgusting thing to do. Like Viv lying about Raph being an SA victim!

What I can't him credit for, is putting his fetish material in a fucking show made for millions on Amazon Prime with no trigger warning.

Raph said that he could practice his kink safely and privately with other people. That would be totally fine and cool, if he didn't put his fetish material in a fucking show made for millions on Amazon Prime with no trigger warning.

He boarded Poison. He choreographed for it. His dialogue from his fucking Valangel rape comic was used in the scene. Viv clearly has a noncon/rape kink. She wrote and directed it. Which, again, would be fine if she didn't put their fetish material in a fucking show made for millions on Amazon Prime with no trigger warning.

It's extremely disgusting to have 2 people who have not been SA'd (Viv has not publicly come forward about supposedly being SA'd herself, and is now straight up liking posts saying you don't need to have trauma to like certain fetishes. Hmmm.) write and board a scene and plot like this. I know Sam Haft said he was a victim (and if that's the case then I am truly sorry) but he also said he wanted Raph, who clearly has issues and has a fetish for this (and also sexually harassed a 15 year old child) to come back to twitter. Also, what the fuck was that tweet about Fizz being a "baby slut"? I've seen Viv like particularly cutesy art of Fizz that's um... pretty gross and borders on fetishistic a lot of the time (mainly wearing children-esque clothing and acting cutesy). You can't have someone who clearly has issues to work in a professional environment.

I'm into noncon and have read hundreds of fanfics like ep4. It's clearly a noncon fanfic with a massive budget. Jesus Christ, I write fanfics like this, but I at least tag and rate everything and always state in my notes that I don't condone the actions of SA. And when I saw ep4... it's clear to me what it was.

Amazon needs to get this show pulled. It's insensitive and frankly sickening to a CSA victim like me, who also happens to be into noncon.

There's nothing wrong with practicing kinks with partners and keeping what you like behind closed doors, but it's another thing to disregard victims and survivors all for the sake of your wank off material that's being broadcasted to millions of people (with no trigger warning).

Oh, and then singing an extremely insensitive song about how if you're SA'd, that you're not unique and to continue to be a "coked up dick sucking ho!" That's right, you're a loser baby! A whiny fucking loser for being raped and abused! It's all your fault, you fucking moron! But hey, I have a gambling problem so we're both losers and we can eat shit together!

Seriously... how the fuck aren't people pissed about that song??

Also, Raph sexually harrassed a 15 year old child and Viv victim blamed the child.

How is this woman still a professional showrunner? Why hasn't she fired Raph? (Oh wait because she said she wouldn't on Threads lmao) Why aren't more people outraged?

The rose colored glasses need to come off at some point, people. Your objectively shitty demon shows aren't worth it.

This.

Viv and her cronies are bad news from a professional standpoint, a marketing one, a decency one. They sprung a rape fetish scene on their entire audience and then laughed in the faces of the survivors who criticized it. They don't deserve a platform, and never did.

[the-guilty-writer]

A Little Tachy

Request from anon: Hiya, could you possibly do something with Morgan x platonic!bau!reader who has pots, or if your not comfortable just faints? X

Derek Morgan x platonic!BAU!reader

GN!reader

Summary: Reader’s tachycardia is flaring and Morgan helps them through the day

A/N: What a great way to kick off Disability Pride Month!

I don’t have POTS, but I’m educated on the condition. One of the things I believe is important to acknowledge is that not everyone with POTS faints, so while the reader comes close to fainting and it’s implied that they have fainted in the past, the reader does not faint during the fic. This fic contains the symptoms and form of POTS I am most familiar with and hear about most often, but it effects everyone who has it individually.

CW: reader almost faints, reader has tachycardia but specific condition is never stated, liquid IV (yes it deserves a warning)

---

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Your smartwatch went off, disturbing the already awkward silence of the elevator. Quickly, you pressed the button to silence it and looked down at the screen that read a number much too high for your liking. The line on the screen climbed with the elevator. Your vision began to fog at the edges and tightness spread across your chest.

Just a few more floors… you thought to yourself, but even that thought was a little hazy. Your grip weakened ever so slightly on the accessible bar. Please, not first thing in the morning… The doors opened onto the sixth floor.

“-scuse me,” you managed to say to the person blocking your way to the door. They scooted to give you room to escape and you managed to dizzily shuffle out of the elevator and into the familiar hallway. With weak limbs and a foggy head, you sank against the closest wall, breathing rapidly.

Keeping your head lifted felt all too much like a chore, so you tilted it back against the wall and allowed your eyes to close. Instead of trying to control your breathing, you allowed yourself to heave with every exhale; it wasn’t worth the extra energy to try to control the muscles of your diaphragm. The alert on your watch went off again, but it wasn’t worth it to turn it off. The sound was annoying as hell, but you didn’t have the strength to turn it off. It should have been alarming to have someone take your wrist while you were in such a vulnerable position, but the touch was so familiar, you knew who it was without looking.

“Thanks,” you managed to get the entire word out without slurring - a good sign.

Derek Morgan sat down on the floor next to you, sighing. “You need me to take you home?” Your best friend’s voice was filled with sympathy.

Sometimes you hated that he worried about you so much, and other times you were grateful you had someone that cared enough to accompany you on the ground.

“No,” you said, your strength coming back to you. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

Your heart came down to a normal (but still less-than-ideal) rate. The pain in your chest faded and the dizziness began to clear. Morgan got up first to help pull you to your feet.

“Thanks,” you said, checking your watch to make sure your heart didn't spike.

“You sure you're okay?” He looked at you with concern.

With your heart staying steady, you cracked a smirk. “A little tachy, but okay.”

The joke was bad, but you still managed to pull a smile out of Morgan. “Take it easy today,” he said.

“I will.”

You walked towards the bullpen, your heart rate rising just a bit as it always did when you were on the move. Derek stood in the hall and watched you carefully for any signs of stumbling. It wasn’t until you were safely through the glass doors, surrounded by people that could catch you if you fainted, that he felt it was okay to go down the hall to his office.

---

You had a few dizzy moments and foggy incidents since your initial extreme tachycardic episode in the morning, but nothing too far out of the ordinary: some lightheadedness when you went to turn in some files and needing some deep breaths whenever you reached down into your bag. It wasn’t technically normal, but it was your normal, and you made it work.

Eleven o’clock rolled around, and just like everyone else in the office, you started to crave caffeine to keep you going. The old coffee maker struggled to keep up with the high demand of it's job. A small line had formed for the chance to grab a mug. You were beginning to wonder if you could convince the section chief to budget for an entire coffee bar.

You saw Morgan at the front of the line, taking his sweet time adjusting his coffee to the exact way he liked it. When he turned to leave, he stopped by you at the back of the line.

“Now, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to make sure I don’t fall asleep,” you replied.

He raised his eyebrows, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a packet of liquid IV.

“Morgan…” you whined. “Please?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

His stubborn attitude was nice, but also annoying. You rolled your eyes a bit, but accepted the packet. “Thanks,” you said with a heavy sigh.

“I’d rather have you passing out because you need a nap than caffeine induced tachycardia,” he said with enough humor to make you smile, but enough seriousness for you to believe him.

You went back to your desk, added the liquid IV to your water and took a sip. It didn't matter what the flavor was, the sharpness of the electrolyte mixture always made you wince at the first taste. “Better than straight up salt packets,” you commented.

Morgan chuckled. “Don't give me any prank ideas.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” you said, then looked over at the rest of the BAU. “For me at least.”

The two of you shared a smirk before he left the bullpen and you went back to work. The great prank planning would have to wait till later.

---

By the end of the day, you were beyond exhausted. Between your heart rate acting up, a lack of coffee, and actually taking a break for lunch, you didn't get as much work done as you planned. Even Hotch had managed to leave the office before you.

You finished a file and put it on the finished stack, then looked at your to-do stack and sighed. With a weak hand you went to grab one.

“Uh-uh.”

You startled, more alert than you had been for hours, but relaxed when you heard Morgan's familiar laugh.

“Are you trying to send me into a medical episode?” You asked him as he leaned on the edge of your desk.

“Come on,” he didn't answer the question. “I'll drive you home.”

You shook your head. “I've gotta finish-”

“You've gotta sleep.”

With exhausted eyes, you looked back at your friend. His gaze was gentle and caring as always.

After a quiet, “Okay,” he helped you pack up your bag and stand up from your seat. From the time you exited the bullpen, until he helped you into the car, he steadied you through every dizzy episode, kept a light hand on your arm to help you walk straight, and gave you gentle reminders to breathe.

It didn't matter if you were having a good day or a bad day, your best friend would always be there to make sure you got through it.

[merakiui]

Your thirst post about Professor Azul the other day is driving me insane in the best way. As his favourite student, you always get punished when you don't do well. Be it a small quiz, a discussion post, and the more the assignment is worth the worse the punishment. You've been bent over his knee and spanked or made to suck his cock and be facefucked until you couldn't even speak anymore because your throat was so sore. Recently you got a 2/5 on an online quiz. You know you'll be punished but it was only worth 1%, so it won't be that bad, right? That's what you think but Professor Azul found out you flunked the quiz because you were out partying, thanks to someone tagging you on social media. He's enraged. When you first enter his office, you tepidly drink on the glass of water he offers. He asks if you know what you did wrong and when you play dumb, not admitting to the parties, Professor Azul knows right then and there that you're not leaving until the next day. He fucks you bare, no condom, spilling his cum into you again and again. By the end, you're delirious, filled with his cum, and incoherent. You wouldn't be surprised to find out he fucked you while unconscious and you're not sure you remember what it feels like to not be filled with his seed. You think that's the end of it, being fucked full and forced to wear a plug that keeps all his cum in. The punishment must be smelling like him and enduring the stares, right? Wrong. The water Azul gave you before is a fertility potion. If you're going to be reckless and not take your studies seriously, it's best that he takes care of you permanently. Well, at least he thinks you'll agree when you're all knocked up with his child, won't you?

AAAAAAAA OTL this has me buzzing like a mosquito omg,,,, orz he's so fine. I cannot be coherent. </3

It's like half hate sex and then half need-to-fuck-you-so-hard-and-deep-that-you're-100%-knocked-up-by-the-end-of-this sex!!!! >_< he's more frustrated that you choose to go out and party, showing your pretty body off to others, while neglecting your grades (but most importantly: neglecting him). Professor Ashengrotto could feign blissful ignorance the first few times. You deserve to have fun, but then he realizes you're better off having fun with him instead of irresponsible college students. What if one of them gets you pregnant? >:( how are you going to afford a pregnancy if you're up to your neck in student debt? The obvious solution is to let him knock you up instead so that he can take care of you and pay all of your fees. He has the money for it and his house is very spacious and nice—much better than the dormitory you're living in.

In Professor Ashengrotto's mind, if you have time to be foolish you can spend that time being foolish with him. Since you seem so disinterested in your degree, preferring to party and drink and do all sorts of reckless things (it's nothing like that; you do these things in moderation, but he's delusional and obsessive and thinks that's all you are: a slutty party animal), he'll show you the reality that lies behind every shot glass. Obviously you've proven to him that you could care less about academics, so why should he care about your protests when you remind him to wear a condom or make sure he pulls out before he cums?

Professor Ashengrotto can be so immature when he's jealous and angry. Maybe he'll feel a little bad if you're struggling to stand hours later or you're bruised from a few rough rounds, but then he has to teach you a proper lesson. How else are you going to learn that university isn't a place for play? If you want that sort of life so badly, then you can just stay at his home like a good housewife and take care of all the children you'll have. :) who needs academic aspirations when you can be his cock-drunk breeding toy instead?

[crappymixtape]

don't make me say it

REQUEST → @palmtreesx3, 500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ you make me want things I can’t have prompt // what can't you have, my guy? please, tell me more, you self deprecating idiot (said with love) – hiding behind a bitchy vibe and some bravado, this boy’s gotta stop gaslighting himself and acting like you're out of reach when you're right 👏 fuckin 👏 there 👏 | ( 2k – mostly angst, dumb boi steve, and a little fluff right at the end to take you home, steve x reader )

D O N ' T M A K E M E S A Y I T 🎶 and you don’t even know you hurt me, nick murphy

Ring, ring, ring.

You didn’t know why you were calling, he probably wasn’t even home. Was probably out with someone else. Another girl sitting in the passenger seat of his BMW while he drove with the windows down. Letting her listen to Tears for Fears or Journey. Letting her hear his not-half-bad rendition of Faithfully or Head Over Heels. Smiling that smile at her, the one he said he saved for you, but you knew better.

While he hadn’t actually said it out loud, you know how he felt.

You were best friends. Had been since you were in diapers. Rolling around in his yard in the summer with chocolate ice cream messed across your cheeks. Starting the first day of middle school together with his dorky braces and your glasses – before you had contacts. Going into high school and watching each other change. Shift. Turn pretty.

The first time that feeling got you.

The one that made your stomach flip over when he looked at you all different. Looked at you like it was the first time. Like you were the only thing that existed in that moment and you knew he felt it too. He had to, but nothing ever happened.

Even when he tucked his hand into your back pocket while you walked out of the diner. Even when you leaned in real close to give him a hug when he dropped you off after a movie. Even when he pressed a kiss to your forehead because you were best friends.

Ring, ring, ring.

You felt tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, felt your throat tighten against the sob that had crawled its way up your throat, felt your heart stutter in your chest as you anticipated the let down. The same old shit.

He was the first one you’d call every single time. The only one to hear you crying. Telling him all about how you got your heart broken again and he’d reassure you. Murmur soft things into your ear about how you didn’t deserve it and what an asshole and it’d be okay. Offered to bring you ice cream and sat up with you til two in the morning watching shitty horror flicks, but never told you what you wanted to hear.

Baby, you deserve better. I’d treat you better. I’d love you how you want to be loved. Baby.

“Hello?” you jumped at the sudden sound of Steve’s voice, surprised he’d actually picked up after all that ringing, sucked in a gasp and swiped at the tears that had spilled over the line of your lashes.

“Hey,” your voice cracked in the middle, didn’t quite let you finish the one-word reply and you could hear the receiver shift on his shoulder, rub against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Hey. What’s wrong? What happened?” his voice had eased. Gentler, warmer, edged with concern and it made you pull in another breath.

“Nothing. Just Tyler–” you pushed a sigh from your lungs and tried to settle your heart as it hammered against your ribcage.

“Tyler? Shit, what’d he do now?” his tone shifted like it always did. Protective, lower and a little rough and it made your stomach twist. You tangled your finger in the phone cord and leaned against the wall, slid your back down the flat surface until you were sitting on the floor of the kitchen.

It wasn’t even worth saying. It was the same shit every time, just this time was with Tyler. You weren’t into him and he could tell. Could tell in the way your eyes drifted when you were talking across the table at dinner. Could tell in the way you hopped out of his car too quick when he dropped you off. Could tell anytime you said Steve. It was obvious, wasn’t it?

“Nothing,” you lied, letting your head lean back against the wall, “Will you just come over?”

“Yeah, course. Ice cream?”

“Please?”

“Be right there.”

Click.

It was both a blessing and a curse to live across the street from your best friend for that very reason. He could be up your steps in two minutes or less and god it killed you.

Steve had brought your favorite, chocolate chip cookie dough, and didn’t even bother with bowls after you let him in. He knew his way around the kitchen, sometimes even better than you did, and dug two spoons out from the silverware drawer before dropping down next to you on the couch.

“Here,” he jammed one of the spoons into the cold ice cream and dug out a bite for you, held it out expectantly and you took it from his hand. The cool sensation melted in your mouth as Steve’s thigh pressed against yours too close on the couch as he flipped through the TV channels before landing on The Thing.

He crammed his own spoon into the tub of ice cream and took a glance at you out of the corner of eye. You were pretty even when you cried, even when your eyes were a little puffy, even when your voice was scratchy. Especially when your voice was scratchy. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured and you shook your head, snuck another bite of ice cream.

“S’fine,” you insisted, tucked your legs to your chest, didn’t look back at him for fear of the feelings swelling in your chest.

He huffed a sigh, put his spoon and the ice cream on the coffee table in front of you and turned so he was facing you properly. Fixed you with a look. That look.

You’re not fine.

You gave him a side eye, all attitude and stubbornness and he frowned.

“It’s not fine,” he disagreed, reached over to tuck your messed hair out of your face and your cheek warmed where his hand brushed across your skin. “These guys are all assholes. They never tell you why and its–”

“Steve,” you interrupted him, pinched the bridge of your nose and held your breath. Maybe you should’ve told him to stay home.

“What?” he shot back, brows pulling together in frustration, leaning forward so you couldn’t avoid him and the irritation in his voice ignited yours.

“You know what,” you leveled, putting your spoon down next to his, lips twisting into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to spell it out for me,” he shook his head, “Cos shit’s not adding up.”

“Spell it out for you?” your eyes grew wide, incredulous, and you finally turned to face him.

Heat rose in your chest, up your neck and across your cheeks in the dark of the living room, lit up by the flicker of the TV and there was no doubt about how angry you were.

“It’s obvious, Steve! To everyone but you apparently,” came tumbling out and you bit your lip. An afterthought. Regret at letting it loose, but you couldn’t take it back and maybe it was better that way.

It rendered him silent for a minute, the irritation on his face softening the longer he looked at you, and you finally pulled your gaze away and folded in on yourself. Tucked into the couch and tried to watch the movie, but it was useless. Ruined.

“Obvious, huh?” he asked quietly and you silently nodded, a snotty move that made Steve huff a small mirthless laugh and he ran a hand through his hair. Shook his head and stared at his feet. Knew exactly what you were talking about, but didn’t want to admit it. “It’s not all my fault you know,” he said, words sharp and it made your eyes snap back to him.

“Not all your fault? You’re joking.”

“Serious. You’re just as guilty as I am,” and if you thought you were angry before you were furious now.

“How am I guilty, Steve? I’m here trying to–to live my life! Move on! Meet people that aren’t the dumb boy from across the street and you make it impossible!”

“Dumb boy–” Steve stood from the couch, looked down at you expression hurt and he was just as angry as you were now, “Princess, you make me want shit I can’t have! How’s that fair?”

“What?” you shot up after him and got right in his face.

Wanted to make damn sure he heard you. Understood you because you weren’t going to say it again and it scared the shit out of you. It scared you that you were willing to ruin your friendship forever with what you were about to say, but you couldn’t carry it any longer. No more.

“I’m right here, Steve,” and you didn’t yell. Didn’t scream. Didn’t make a big show out of it. Just stared up at him with your chin tilted resolutely, feet firm the ground, hands balled into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms. Trembling with the weight of it all and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Speechless. Caught.

“That’s not what I–I didn’t mean–you’re just–”

“Forget it, Steve,” your frame fell at his backpeddling and you felt the tears biting at the corners of your eyes again. Tried to will them away, but the second rejection of the evening hit hard and you’d had it, “Just go home.”

You turned away from him, not even bothering to turn the TV off and tried to go to the stairs, but his caught yours and spun you around so fast you bumped into his chest. Caught the warm, citrusy scent of his cologne. Fresh laundry and mint and boy and it was so hard to stay angry pressed into him like that.

“M’sorry,” he murmured and it stole your breath away. The sorry in his voice. The look in his eyes. The way his free hand lifted to hold you at your waist. Firm, steady, Steve.

“That doesn’t change anything,” you were grasping at the last bits of anger that still clung around the edges, but it was fading fast.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry. You’re right,” and that admission made you weak in the knees. Sent your heart racing in your chest and you tried to swallow down the nerves that he’d conjured in your stomach.

“Right about what?” you asked, but before he could answer you pressed your fingers to his lips, a silent request to wait, “Be honest, Steve. Please. Because I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Your hand fell away and his brows pinched together as he looked down at you. Sad, sorry, regret. His hand on your waist held you tighter and he let go of your hand. Cupped the soft curve of your jaw and shook his head slowly.

“Right about you. Being right here and I’m an idiot. I just–”

He tripped over his words. Struggled with being exposed and vulnerable and real and you lifted your hand to cover his over your cheek. Reassuring him for once and god did it help.

“You just deserve the best and I’m…well. I’m me,” he tried a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes and you pressed your free hand into his chest. Bunched the fabric of his shirt in your fingers and pulled him close. Tutted at him softly and sighed.

“I don’t want the best,” you said, voice barely over a whisper, pulling him closer still, “I just want you. You idiot.”

And then he smiled. A slow creep of a grin. Small at first and growing as your noses brushed against each other. Heads tilting ever so slightly. Lips soft and parted so that you could fit them together like two sides of a locket and when they met everything melted away.

Finally. Finally.

Finally.

“You can have whatever you want, Steve Harrington,” you sighed into him, his fingers pressing into the soft plush of your waist, “Just don’t make me say it again.”

And when he kissed you quiet it was all you needed to know your best friend was finally that. Your best. Your friend. Yours.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[fubukinorris]

❧ "i'd love to see me from your point of view"

♢regular tags: fluff, established relationship, long distance relationship (shinichiro, akane), alcohol (ryusei), gn! reader, reader is nicknamed bituin (shinichiro), babe (ryusei, senju), and sunshine (chifuyu)

ft. chifuyu matsuno, ryusei sato, shinichiro sano, senju kawaragi, inui akane

a/n: this song made me cry. i really, really want someone loving me one day.. probably when i get over my fears and manage to love myself.

(It's like you got superpowers Turn my minutes into hours) -Shinichiro Sano

"And there was this announcement about the races..."

You met Shinichiro about a year ago. You found him dragging two motorcycle engines along the road and you felt inclined to help him. That help had the element of exchanging numbers, a few dates, and a weird confession that ended up with you and him in bed.

Nevertheless, even when Shinichiro had to go back to his homeland, he was always thinking about you. Sure, he had to work a few more hours at the bike shop to pay for international calls, but it was worth it every time.

"Oh! And I won a contest today! You won't believe how I did it!" Your excited voice makes Shinichiro chuckle. "Tell me all about it, bituin. I have time."

"You sure? Isn't it midnight there?" You ask him. "You should be sleeping, Shin. Don't tell me you're gonna stay up all night and work at the bike shop..."

"Well, my work involves the bike shop but I'm not going to stay up all night. Again." Shinichiro scratches the back of his neck as he said that, laughing a little. "Enough about me, bituin. Tell me about that contest."

"Ah, right! So my instructional materials..."

Shinichiro didn't mind that the late hours were fast approaching. He couldn't wait to see you again. After all, he'll be hearing your voice again in a few months. He needed to count his money for a flight to the Philippines.

(You know me better than I do Can't seem to keep nothing from you) -Sato Ryusei

Ryusei didn't mind if you drank a lot. Besides, you only drank whenever you had a problem. Which was... usually every at the end of the month.

It didn't help that it was finals month. You were already on your fourth glass of whiskey, but it was strange to Ryusei. He had been with you long enough to know that you were a loud type of drunk, yet here now, you were as quiet as a mouse.

Something was up.

"Babe." Ryusei lightly taps on your shoulder. "You've been quiet all night. Did something happen?"

You were still quiet, but you only nod. Ryusei didn't really need to ask, so he just holds his arms out. "Come on, I hate seeing you like this."

A sniffle was heard from you, and you wipe your eyes before you bury yourself into his arms. "What made you think something was wrong, Ryu?"

"You're an annoying baby when you're drunk, babe." Ryusei teases with a small chuckle. You look up at him, pouting. "Can't really hide anything from you can't I?" You ask before burying yourself back into your boyfriend's chest.

Ryusei gently strokes your hair. "Mhm. Nothing really, no."

(I'm getting used to receiving Still getting good at not leaving) -Kawaragi Senju

Senju always spoils you. A lot. Even a simple window-shopping date would end up with you carrying at least one bag of something that you liked.

Senju just... liked buying you stuff. You weren't financially struggling, just really, really silent with what you want and you always decline if anyone would offer you to buy something. Even when someone wanted to treat you for food, you would say no.

"Babe." Senju finally puts her hands on your shoulders. "You can't say no to this one."

"But, baby-" You try to start but your girlfriend shakes her head. "No. You can't decline this one. This is something you've been wanting try and eat for months!"

You had a perplexed look on your face. "Listen, baby. I really appreciate the things you do, but I don't deserve them." You hold her hands as you say that, looking down. "I really... really don't."

There was something laced in your tone of voice. Senju knew that tone all too well. She cups your face now, making you look at her. "Babe. You deserve everything. You... you really do." Senju smiles a little. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you."

You widen your eyes at that, trying to stop the tears from falling. "Don't cry." Senju wipes your tears away with her thumbs. "Listen, you're valid and you deserve so much. Now come on, lets go and try that dessert you've been eyeing."

(You love my lips 'cause they say the Things we've always been afraid of) -Inui Akane

You and Akane met through a mutual friend. The friend hangouts would turn into friendly dates and those friendly dates would lead to romantic dates.

This was your first relationship with someone. And someone like Akane was... a one of a kind.

It was like the red strings of fate pulled you both together, and ever since then the both of you have been inseparable. All those pictures, dates, hugs, and kisses is what made your relationship with Akane much more meaningful.

"Look, it's snowing." Akane giggles when a snowflake lands on your nose. "I guess winter's coming early."

"Funny, winter reminded me of our first date." You say with a laugh. "I was... a nervous wreck, now that I remember it."

"Tell me about it. You spilled juice all over yourself." Akane had a teasing grin and you only blush at the memory. "I didn't spill! The cup just moved on its own!" You retaliate in defense, making Akane laugh. "Hey, Akane-chan! Stop laughing!"

Akane couldn't stop her fit of laughter and you cup her face with your mittens, making her stare at your red face. Akane's face mimicked yours, obviously surprised. "Uh--Wow, you're on a trip to memory lane, are you?"

You only smile. "Yeah... I remember cupping your face like this..."

"And I put my arms around your neck..." Akane does the action, now smiling.

You both stare at each other before closing the gap. The first kiss is always the most memorable, and while others say that finding that spark was impossible, you and Akane definitely kept the spark going.

(I wanna love me The way that you love me) -Matsuno Chifuyu

Chifuyu was always the aggressive golden retriever in the relationship, and even he seemed to notice too. He was clingy, affectionate, a gentleman; you name it.

But what really came down to it was how passionate he was. You didn't mind that he read shoujo manga. You were an avid reader yourself, and that meant the conversations would be way longer than anyone else that you knew.

"Sunshine!" It was the usual routine once more, with the blond hugging you from behind and you giggling at the affectionate action. It had been... what, only six months? Yeah, six months since the both of you started dating. "Hey, Fuyu." You lean up and kiss him on the cheek. "Ready to go?"

Chifuyu lets go of the hug, still smiling. "Why wouldn't I be ready for this? It's our six month anniversary!" He held your hand as the both of you walked in the crowded streets of Shinjuku. There was a Nana themed coffee shop and Chifuyu wanted to take you.

You were curious now, so you finally plucked up the courage. "Hey, Fuyu?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you're always happy around me?"

Chifuyu looked at you, stunned. "Why wouldn't I be happy around the love of my life?"

"Well..." You cleared your throat. "I dunno. I just have that nagging feeling."

Chifuyu had a blank expression on his face before leaning to kiss your nose. Your face turns bright red at the action, and the blond only smiles sweetly. "I love you too much. Seeing you everyday was a blessing already. And dating you? That was probably the best miracle I could ever ask."

[scuderiamh]

LATE NIGHT DEVIL || m.verstappen x reader

pairing: max verstappen x reader

request: yes / no

summary: in which he's her sworn rival and the only other driver she truly hates -- except when they're in eachother's beds. based on teeth by 5 seconds of summer.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: smut. lewis retiring, so sorry i hated to do it 😭

ever since lewis hamilton lost his chance at an eighth world championship and retired, the heaviest of weights have been placed on your shoulders. be the new lewis. but you could never be the new lewis and nobody outright said you should be, but the unspoken pressure was always there, haunting you in your weakest moments. you had to do one thing and one thing alone -- beat max verstappen. it'd been the silent expectation placed in your lap the second you'd signed with mercedes. 

but how could you up max verstappen when he played so fucking dirty? when he was the fia's goddamn golden boy? 

he was cutthroat. you knew this, always. but so were you. 

you had to be. in a male-dominated sport, you had to establish your hold over other drivers. everyone in formula one had to prove their worth and show they deserved their seat, but the skepticism with your driving only meant the pressure was tenfold with you. you didn't like to give yourself excuses, but it was true. so your driving style had to be harsh, rough -- but slicker than max. that's why you were better. you didn't cause the accidents he did.

not like you'd get away with it like he did. not in a million years. 

the back and forth in your position was constant. one race you'll be leading the championship, the next it'll bounce right back to max being on the top. the media ate it up. just as much as it ate up how neither of you tried to hide your intense dislike for one another from the cameras, much to both their pr manager's disdain. “don't be so scornful on camera,” they'd say, “bad publicity. people don't like it.” but tonight wasn't like others. tonight it wasn't the harsh criticism, the snapping, the glares that could kill. no, tonight was much, much more different.

because tonight he was unzipping your dress in the bar bathroom.

grasping onto the little clarity that remained after the alcohol you'd downed, you took a brief moment to recollect how the fuck you got into this position --

if you hadn't gotten slapped in the face with a penalty, you would've started p1. it was more than a hard pill to swallow.

down it with some drinks. that was the solution.

p-fucking-20. that's where you'd be.

a shot with the reminder.

max fucking verstappen on pole instead of you.

another shot downed.

he was ahead of you in the wdc at the moment.

you raised the shot glass to your lips before a voice, an oh-so familiar, oh-so infuriating voice, interrupted you.

“you're taking those about as quickly as you drove today.” 

although you couldn't see him, you knew it was max. you knew it right away and you were more than tempted to dump the shot on him. it was a dramatic thought undoubtedly influenced by your lack of complete sobriety, but you'd do just about anything to get him to leave your alone. that wasn't far off in comparison to your usual feelings toward him, but now more than ever. he was the last person you wanted to see here.

before you could say anything, he followed up his comment with a smirk and another one. “too bad the results are bad in both situations. p20 in one, a hangover in another...”

“fuck off, verstappen.” you snapped, ignoring him as he took a seat across from you. only that made your realize how pathetic you must've looked, downing drinks, all pissed off, sitting at a table alone. why didn't you just sit on one of the barstools instead? strike up a flirtatious conversation with someone around, maybe get lucky.

he raised his hands in a mock admission of guilt. “okay. okay. whatever you say, schatje.”

his presence alone inflamed you. he wasn't speaking, no. he was just there. by now he'd acquired his own drinks. why was he drinking with you? why wasn't he speaking? you wanted nothing more than to reach over and strangle him.

or fuck him. either would work.

you may hate his guts but you wouldn't deny your attraction to him. you wouldn't act on it -- definitely not. but he was handsome, to put it lightly. not even you would say otherwise.

“i think you just need your shit mood fucked out of you.” max stated finally, placing down an empty shot glass rather loudly.

you got over the initial shock at his words rather quickly, snorting in response. “and i'm sure you'd love to be the one to do it."

“i'm sure you'd love for me to be the one to do it.” he retorted, head tipping to the side. his gaze was intense, much like everything else about him.

“in your dreams.”

“you think i dream about you, schat?”

“i think you do.” you hummed. “think you dream about me a lot.”

the words meant nothing. they were empty. nothing more than meaningless banter with someone you could hardly stand.

“i think you want me to dream about you.” he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “but i think you're the one who dreams about me. right? me fucking you stupid. you shaking under me. moaning my name. yeah?”

the words went straight to your core and you found yourself rubbed your thighs together. but you scoffed. “i'll bet anything you can't even find a woman's clit, verstappen.”

“let me prove you otherwise.”

you weren't above this. neither was he. a bar bathroom wasn't the most elegant of places to have sex, and it sure was no hotel bed -- but it'd make due. you were both too intoxicated to care. both with the drinks and with eachother.

“i still fucking hate you.” you reminded max, meeting his eyes as you finished removing the dress. 

it was a nice one. black, skintight. cut in a way that showcased your legs and revealed just enough of your chest on display to make him want to take it right off of your. the eye contact was only broken when the shirt he was taking off obscured his own vision.

“you are fucking me, that's for sure.” he said, undoing his belt buckle.

“i never said yes.” you shot back.

there was a temporary pause in the removal of his jeans. his fingers instead made their way to your hips, lightly latching on to the band of your panties. pulling down, but the tug didn't do more than move them ever so slightly.

fucking tease.

“so you mean to say you're saying no?” he asked, now tracing the path of the band, then going down. down to your clothed cunt, applying the slightest pressure to where wetness had started to accumulate. a quiet gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“if so...” he drawled, hand slowly moving back to the band to tug downward. “your body's telling a little bit of a different story, i must say.”

“get on with it, verstappen. or i'll find another guy to.” you said, knowing the empty threat would rile him up. “and you know i could.”

he was more expressionless than you would've liked. he only maintained eye contact and stopped touching your entirely, his own pants finally coming off. though you'd wished he'd finished taking your underwear off. but on the other hand, you wasn't complaining about his increasing lack of clothing. “i'm sure you could, schat.” he hummed. “but do you think any other guy would fuck you like i could?”

oh, if your teams knew about this. the red bull golden boy and the mercedes crowned queen. half naked in a bar bathroom.

“i don't know.” you said, exaggerating a pout. “because you won't hurry up and fuck me. what was it you were saying? fucking me stupid, moaning your name? is that no more than a fantasy?”

“i'll show you fantasy.” he grunted, grabbing your hips suddenly. the yank of your panties was stark in comparison to how he toyed with them just minutes before. max manhandled you into the position he wanted you in -- bent over the sink, making sure you could see his reflection in the mirror. make you know it was him bringing you to pleasure and, more importantly, submission.

the coolness of the sink made you hiss. you didn't have the time to adjust to it before his forefinger was at your pussy and pushing inside. an immediate moan couldn't even be stopped when he started thrusting it in and out, quick to add a second finger.

“look at me.” he demanded as soon as he saw your eyes screw shut. when you didn't listen, he slowed his pace. “i said look at me.”

the sudden drop in speed caught your attention. your eyes were back open, meeting his in the reflection. you opened your mouth to say something, snap some witty remark, but he resumed his actions and a whimper was voiced before words could even be thought of. a third finger drove your right to the edge of your peak, but fucking max, he removed them all with a smirk plastered on his face. he knew with the way you was clenching you wouldn't have lasted longer. he knew he was snatching away your high right before you could ride it out. even in a sexual scene, he didn't miss the opportunity to take something good from you.

“don't complain, you brat.” he spat, a cool arrogance in his voice. you hated it. you hated him. “you'll get what you want soon enough.”

and you did. his hands were on your hips in an instant, positioning himself behind your. before he did anything, he didn't say anything, but the hesitation made the silent question obvious. you could've said yes, the simple way to consent, or perhaps you could've begged, he would've liked that quite a bit. but the way you inched backward with a slight wiggle to your hips, making contact with his rock hard cock was an answer enough.

without any further warning or communication, he pushed into you. you couldn't help but whine sharply at the feeling. you could've anticipated max being big, but you had your expectations set lower.

he'd only allowed brief seconds for adjustments before the snapping of his hips rivaled the speed of his own car. your moans filled the room, but he brought a hand to your mouth, slowly pushing a finger inside to muffle the noise you was making. you didn't need to be told to suck on them.

“don't want others to hear the little mercedes princess getting railed, now, do we?” 

taking your mouth off his fingers, it took great effort for you to speak. “fuck you, max.”

it was probably the first time you'd referred to him directly using his first name.

he'd die before admitting it, but he liked the way you said his name.

with clear desperation, wordlessly urging him to continue to rut into you. but the same proud undertone remained nonetheless, like you was still in charge. like they were behind the steering wheels of their opposing cars. and your moans...

god, he could listen to them on repeat.

while you two made every effort to stifle the sounds your mouths were making, they couldn't cover up the sound of skin slapping against skin rapidly. you didn't even try to.

his thrusts were precise, rough, and aggressive. his dominating nature seen on the track mirrored the dominance he held over you. and unlike on the track, you liked it.

if a peak of stimulation wasn't already approaching fast enough, the finger he brought to your clit made it speed up. max was rubbing the sensitive bud in ways that made your senses short circuit.

“what was it you were saying?” he asked tauntingly. “about me not finding the clit?”

“shut up.” you choked out.

your eyes rolled back at the consistency of his thrusts. never once did the pace or intensity falter. you had to gape at his stamina. when the coil snapped, your second orgasm hitting you like a train, max guided you through it. he became more sloppy, hands never leaving your body for a second.

you just had sex with the only person you swore you hated.

and you loved it.

shortly after, he slid out of you. he panted while he came all over your rear. marking you as his own.

as soon as he did, he knew the first time wouldn't be the last.

and that's a wrap! tag list below, ask to be added. feedback highly appreciated!

@hendersonsluvbot @sriusun @iamasimpingh0e @maxxiemoo @aaleksmorozova @alwayschoppedtaco @kyomihann @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @sugarmaxie @fictional-l0v3r @iamasimpingh0e

[rinsuniverse]

hi can i request wonu comforting reader? smth like they’re insecure or feeling like they’re not enough or they’re not lovable? i love your work btw i read every post like 2-3 times they make my day

reassurance with wonwoo! ✧˖°.

this is such a sweet request and very realistic!

the problem started way before this scenario, but it became incredibly evident to wonwoo on his day off

he's playing some games on his pc

and usually, you'd watch attentively and spare him some smiles every once in awhile

or you'd be on your laptop/tablet doing your own thing, and whenever you'd get bored, you'd get up and nudge him for attention

but today, every time he looked over to you, your eyes seemed to droop, and you seemed lost in thought (and kind of out of it)

as he's in the lobby of another online game, he turns to look at you as you lay on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling

"you okay, beb? you have been more quiet than usual," he says, pulling his headphones down to rest against his neck

"oh, i'm good," you say, sighing. "just thinking."

"wanna talk about it?"

"it's nothing important," you say, closing your eyes. "just not feeling great."

"should we take a break together and get some food and water?"

"it's not that i'm not feeling physically well. i just don't feel great about myself."

wonwoo turns back to his monitor, noticing that the game started

he adjusts his headphones so one ear is out of the set, his mic off

"why are you feeling that way?" he asks gently. "come here. sit in my lap."

you hesitantly drag yourself over to him, and he continues to play while sitting you sideways in his lap

you rest the side of your head on his shoulder, burying your forehead into his neck

"i know it makes me sound selfish and annoying, but i really don't feel like i'm worth anything," you say quietly.

he hums, showing that he's listening

"just look at you... you're so talented and wonderful and genuine and beautiful looking. and here i am... i'm not... ugly. but i'm not as attractive as you by any means. and i'm not as cool, warm-hearted, and interesting as you. standing next to you and knowing that i'm freaking dating you makes me feel like... 'how the hell did i even deserve this?' and 'why does he like ME?' and 'just imagine how disappointed people will be when they find out.'"

"find out what?"

"that we're dating."

"do you just not want people to find out? is it too embarrassing for you?"

"god, that's not... let's just not talk about this..."

"no, give me a moment, princess," he says, quickly finishing the game

he logs off and then turns the chair to face away from the pc

"tell me exactly what you don't like about yourself," he says, putting a hand on your cheek

"what?"

"like what makes you feel the most insecure?"

"i don't feel... lovable."

"lovable? let me search this up," he says as he turns back to his pc, searching up the definition. "inspiring or deserving love or affection."

"exactly. i don't deserve this... especially you."

"hmm... do you know that i feel like that sometimes?"

"what? you? why?"

"see? you're so shocked. that's exactly how i feel about you saying you're unlovable. because 'what? you? why?'"

"but you're a whole idol, wonu."

"and you're my favorite person. you're practically my idol," he says.

"it's not the same-"

"let's get up and go to the bathroom," he says, gently pushing you to your feet

"wonu, what the-"

he drags you to his bathroom and he hands you a makeup wipe

"wipe off my makeup," he says, taking off his glasses

"what's the purpose of this, babe?"

"come onnn"

you wipe off his makeup and he turns to look in the mirror

"i'm insecure about my acne and my moles," he says, pointing at places on his face

"but you're so handsome, even without makeup."

and he turns to you and gives you soft kisses on your forehead, your nose, both of your cheeks, your chin, and then your lips

"and you're so beautiful, babe. you're so deserving of my love because i can't think of anyone more deserving of my love than you. all of the love i have is for you, no matter what you feel or think."

he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in to a long, loving kiss

"wonu..."

"do you understand?"

"mhm, thank you."

he places his glasses on you, making you laugh

"you're so blind, baby."

"with those glasses, i'm able to see the most beautiful person in the world in perfect vision."

"oh, really?"

"i bet you know them."

"you're so weird."

"let's talk some more, okay? tell me how you've been, tell me everything that's made you happy recently, tell me everything that pissed you off..."

"don't you want to go back to your game?"

"i still need to give my lover all the love they deserve."

"really?"

"don't make me think about what i said. i'll cringe and go back to gaming."

"okay, okay. but you mean everything you said?"

"i do."

thank you so much for requesting, anon! i hope you aren't feeling unlovable or insecure... if you are, i totally get that. just know that you ARE deserving of love and all wonderful things, i don't doubt that in any sense. if you need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open 🫶 feel free to request many more prompts! i hope this makes you feel better when you're feeling down. have a great day!

(p.s. requests are still open! i specialize in woozi stuff, but i don't mind writing about other svt members! so request whatever and as much as you want! ς(>‿<.))

[profound-imagination]

Loneliest - Eris Vanserra

A/N: Just a short little fic based on Loneliest by Maneskin.

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You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

The world stopped for Eris Vanserra the day he saw her. Young. Wild. Beautiful. Human. Something pulled taut in his chest as he watched her be thrown in front of her, Amarantha. He knew how this would go. She'd be beaten first. In front of all of them as a form of entertainment. His hands curled at the thought and he knew what this feeling in his chest was. Knew he could do nothing about it. Knew he couldn't get her out. She'd be the saddest part of him.

Eris examined the black ink that had formed in the middle of his chest. A deal he'd made on the third day of her ordeal. He'd found her that morning, practically naked, more bruises and than skin, scrubbing a floor that he knew had been enchanted to just keep being dirty no matter what she did. His chest went tight again and the fire in his veins roared at the thought of anyone but him seeing her in this state of undress. At the thought of anyone lying a hand on her, his mate. A part of him that would never be his. He removed his own cloak and wrapped it around her. "Why?" She'd asked him. "Because no one deserves to go through what you're going through." He'd told her. He'd gone straight to Rhysand after. "Take the pain, don't let her feel it, convince Amarantha to give her to me, I'll do anything." He should've worded his deal better but Rhysand had smirked at him, eyebrow raised as if he knew what Eris had barely admitted to himself and shook his hand.

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You're still the oxygen I breathe

I see your face when I close my eyes

It was late, when Rhysand knocked on his door. The girl cowering next to him, her arm twisted behind her back painfully. A growl escaped Eris as he took in the High Lord and the Human girl before him. Rhysand had the audacity to laugh as he shoved her towards Eris, who barely caught her. "I hope she's worth it, Vanserra. You promised me anything." Rhysand slid his hands into his pockets. "For another deal, I can make her more amenable to you Eris." He purred. Another low growl escaped Eris and his eyes set ablaze. Rhysand held his hands up in surrender and sidled away.

She pushed out of Eris' hold as soon as Rhysand had walked away and took three steps away from him. Eris closed the door to his room and leant against it. She was taking him in just as he was taking her in. "You're safe now." He said quietly. She leveled him with a glare. "You're Fae, I'm not safe with any of you." When he didn't say anything she carried on. "What do you want with me?" He took a step towards her and she took a step back. "Nothing." She seemed to ponder his answer so he spoke again. "Would you like a bath? Some clean clothes?" She looked like she desperately wanted to no. "On your own, I promise. I'll be out here and nowhere near you." She nodded once. Eris showed her the bathing chamber and then dug through the clothes he had. A shirt that was going to be too big for her and a pair of breeches that would have the same issue. He hoped the laces on the breeches meant she could pull them tight enough.

She was a vision in his clothes. This little human that had come in and turned his entire world on its axis. He found once she'd had a bath, some food and a couple of glasses of wine she willingly spoke to him. It sent a thrill through his body that she was willingly conversing with him. "What did that other Fae mean when he said you'd promised him anything?" Eris studied her face, took in her freckles and the way her nose scrunched. "I made a deal with him, to keep you safe." She faltered and put her wineglass down. "Why?" He shrugged. "I just…had too." She wrung her hands. "No one's ever kept me safe before." He would keep her safe. Always.

She kept to his rooms in the following weeks. They spent their evenings talking, eating and drinking wine. She was becoming the oxygen he breathed. "Where's home?" He'd asked one night. "A tiny little village just past the wall. But it's not really home, I've never really had a home. What about you?" He'd make her a home he decided as he launched into stories about the Autumn Court.

Eris felt the loneliest he'd ever felt when he watched her close his bedroom door every night and he settled for another night of seeing her face when he closed his eyes and tried to sleep on the sofa. When sleep did take him, he dreamt of her. Of them. Of a life. Of a little redheaded girl, with big teal eyes who followed him everywhere. Who called him Papa and made him attend tea parties. Gywenth, they'd called her.

It's torturous

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

He'd arranged it all. Lucien was going to get her out. She'd be safe, free. Tamlin would offer her no place in Spring so Lucien was to take her to Sangravah. The night before she left, she'd kissed him. Taken him to bed. Told him she loved him. Through his groans and pants he'd told her he loved her too. She kissed him again when Lucien came for her. He promised to find her when he got out, if he got out.

[sadruru]

Part 2 of Springfinder. 3) Temptation:

How could she have known where this talk would lead? Unexpectedly, the commander accepted the young tiefling's feelings. Without even thinking, the words came off her lips. Only then came the realization of what had been said. Woljif was silenced by the feelings that came over him. He hugged Melissa tightly, smiled broadly, and laughed softly, either in disbelief or relief. Melissa was embarrassed by the unexpected embrace and froze. This display of affection was too unfamiliar, forgotten. Pretty strange description for someone who was always making obscene jokes and acting out of control, huh? The pleasant feeling burned her heart again. Melissa's hands reached for the boy in response, and for a split second they stopped, trembling violently.

Doubt. Maybe even a little fear. Did she deserve this? Maybe fate wanted to laugh at her again? To give something and then take it away, like always. Wouldn't it ruin everything again?

The temptation to feel at least a little happy and truly needed was too great. Taking a deep breath, the commander quickly calmed herself. No matter what, let it be. No one else would give her a third chance to fulfill all her desires and right her wrongs again. One loving look from Woljif was enough to make her extremely greedy. Now Melissa can only hope that this sin will not kill her.

The cold no longer bothered anyone, for this winter night was the warmest in many years.

4) Capture:

Captivity begins with your own mind, tiefling. In your case, you don't even have to make the extra effort. Your mind and soul are already nearly destroyed. All I need is a little nudge. There's so much you're trying to forget. Your pain, regrets, rage, resentment. Remember, you're being used. They have been, they are, and they always will be. There's no place for you in this world.

Surrender, mortal. You're nothing.

Your end will be as pathetic and lonely as you are. In the end, you'll destroy everything you've achieved. You will lose everything you hold dear, become like a broken mirror and disappear. 5) Healing:

I'm tired of lying helplessly in four walls. That's enough. Nice try, goatface. You're gonna make me apologize to the others for my behavior. Some of them especially... You're wrong about a lot of things, Baphomet. The world really sucks and isn't worth a drop of my time, but I'm not going to just give up at your behest and miss my second chance. There's too much at stake now. I'm not alone. Not anymore.I've made peace with my past and will write my own future and ending. No one else will dare stand in my way: not humans, not gods, not pathetic demon lords like you.

... Someone - When are you gonna stop drawing the same characters?!!!

Me - ...Yes 🗿 I look at the first art and know what awaits them... I love eating glass *COUGHING HARD*

I wanted a soft green background instead of purple. But I got mad, freaked out, and painted it my favorite color. Well, you know, а little symbolism and meaning ha-ha...

[un-unavoidableanxiousball]

✨ Meowpheus ✨

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Masterlist Masterlist²

Prompt used: Panic Attack

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dream of The Endless/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of The Endless, Hob Gadling

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, possible out of character

Warnings: panic attack

Word count: 936

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╰┈┈➤ PREVIOUSLY

Hob's jaw practically hit the floor. Where before a cat was lying on the couch's armrest, now sits his Stranger.

Silence stretches as Hob's staring wide-eyed at his Friend, and Dream avoids making eye contact.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Spending time with Hob has been a rare delicacy. He got too comfortable.

Oh, how Dream wishes to curse his sister for her timing, but he won't. He has foolishly forgotten it wouldn't last forever, didn't even know when Desire planned to end this charade. He couldn't stand the thought of it ending at all.

The moment Death has come, he was instantly filled with dread. He saw the confusion on Hob's face at Death's actions and could anticipate Hob's realisation, hurt, and inevitably betrayal.

He had to brace himself for rejection and Hob's justified anger.

Perhaps Hob will forgive him again?

No. No, before it was out of his control to miss their meeting. But this— this was intentional. Perhaps it'll be the last straw and Hob will want him to leave and not come back. That thought alone coiled his being tight bringing out a humid storm inside him.

He doesn't want to lose him. Hob is his friend, he takes the loneliness away. He doesn't want to but Hob deserves better. If he'd wish it Dream will go back to being alone again.

Distantly the Dreaming is enveloped in a dense fog, so thick that if one were to slice it, it would only leave a faint cut; making it all that difficult to move. Few unlucky denizens, scrambling for shelter, were slowed down, practically unable to move further. Nightmares with their sharp edges come to rescue dreams not strong enough to manage these conditions.

It will feel wrong, he will feel wrong. Alone again. Too soon.

Hob deserves to be free of him but oh, how he'll miss the human's warmth. It's unfathomable and ultimately unavoidable, he'll get used to being cold again. He must. Hob's worth it.

He can already feel the upcoming cold; a sharp, white noise of irritating itches.

The Dreaming's air stilled as the mist has frozen, dreams and nightmares alike feel disbelief, and andrenaline. The ice is of irregular shape - crystal-like, and sharp shards forming from the rain stab surfaces with hisses and whizzes.

Unbearable, it'd be unbearable but Dream will endure. For Hob.

No. Better not to think of Hob, it'll be too painful. Yet it was the thought of Hob that made him steel his resolve inside the glass.

He hears nothing. Everything? It's ringing, humming?

Hob? Yes Hob. Soft Hob with bright gentle eyes and joyous smiles, comfortable and warm and safe.

Where is he again? Silence is buzzing within him. When did the air go stale?

Wrong. What's wrong? What did he miss? Hob might know. Hob's clever.

Dream stills as melodic notes reach him.

*Fr---d! Dr--m?*

No, not notes, voice. Warm and concerned. Safe... Is that Hob's voice surrounding him?

*...d you to c-me back.*

Hob.

*You're safe. I'm here. You c-*

With Hob, safe. Yes. What is he doing here? Did Burgess get him too?

*-ry later. Gonna touch you now. Okay Friend?*

The moment Hob's hand made contact with Dream, time resumed in the Dreaming. All shards, previously suspended in the air, violently plunge to the ground with a shatter.

Hob's touch was enough to startle Dream back to Hob's flat and away from Burgess's basement. Not yet enough for Dream to calm.

"I need you to focus on me. Alright?" Hob's concerned voice fully reaches Dream. Then hesitant, Dream slowly drags his eyes upwards to Hob's face. That earned him an encouraging smile. "Good. That's it. You're doing great." Hob says and leads Dream's hand to put against his chest, then "I want you to match my breathing now."

Dream mimics the slow and steady movement of Hob's chest. After a while Dream has found his voice; his mind fully present with Hob.

"I'm sorry." He says and then Hob's smile turns sad.

"Nothing to apologise for my Friend. I'm no stranger to panic attacks." Hob says, gentle.

Dream's eyes flutter shut to stop tears from appearing. Why is Hob gentle with him? He surely doesn't deserve it.

"I should leave. I'm sorry for intruding, Hob Gadling."

"Who said anything about leaving? And you truly didn't bother me or intrude." Hob blurts out, hand darting out to grasp Dream's arm as Dream started to stand. "While I can't deny I have questions. They can wait. I'd rather be sure you're alright Stranger." Hob spoke with a strained, nervous grin, his grip on Dream's arm weakening.

"If...I'm alright? Certainly you must wish me gone for invading your privacy..?" Dream questions, unbelieving.

"Not really, no. I-" Hob licks his lips from nerves, "-I think it helped, helped you that is. Spending time with me. I don't know what happened to you Stranger," Dream tenses slightly, "-but you can come by. Anytime, doesn't matter. If it helps, I'll gladly give you my time." Dream glances at Hob's eager, honest eyes.

"You still want my company even-?" Dream begins, voice filled with emotion.

"Of course." Hob cuts him off. "I fought tooth and nail for the title of being your friend, Stranger. You're not getting rid of me that easily." Hob jokes but Dream can see nothing but the truth in that statement.

"I...Thank you Hob, my Friend." Dream nods, then "I owe you an explanation. I shall meet you tomorrow... I have something to attend to."

With that Dream makes his escape to the Dreaming leaving behind a stunned Hob Gadling staring where seconds before stood his friend.

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