#(( past week had me in a chokehold ))
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pastelsketches64 · 4 months ago
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Oh boy, I sure do love drawing funny little guys!💜🦝💬
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yyshcul · 2 months ago
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outfits of da week..... if you don't spend over an hour getting ready to go on side quests that take 2 hours max then what's the point.......................
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rileys-battlecats · 11 months ago
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Favorite epic song???
Love ur art btw <33
hi i know this probably means my favorite song that i consider to be epic sounding BUT ive been bingeing EPIC the musical for the past few weeks so my brain instantly went to “just a man”
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lucrel · 8 months ago
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At night, the windows that line one side of the boys' hallway are dark, watery mirrors. In first year, Regulus found out the hard way that nighttime didn't stop the visions. When he's glanced over, he's frequently seen himself reflected in the glass, a little older, a grimmer set to his mouth, more often than not carrying a stack of books, always, always alone. - chap 11, lachrimae by the incredible @birlwrites!!!!
a seer regulus fanfiction that you should definitely read if you enjoy the looming dread of hiding your future death from your loved ones and also voldemort
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void-occupation · 7 months ago
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Ok, hear me out (angst, bc of course)
I've been having these thoughts bounce around my head for about a week and I finally decided to post them. I don't know who's going to see this, but whoever sees it needed to. I guess this is for an AU rather than a headcanon, but whatever, just hear me out. I was inspired by The Owl House, specifically Hunter, so maybe that will spark some interest. This is about to be a rant, so I'll go ahead and add the read more thing
Okay, now that I have your attention, time for angst.
SO, in The Owl House, we learn in season 2 that (SPOILER ALERT) Hunter is a grimwalker (a clone of someone who died for those of you who don't know), and that before him, there were TONS of other grimwalkers that Belos murdered for "choosing to betray him" AKA realizing that Belos was an evil psychotic bitch. Also, that Hunter looked the most like Caleb (the dead guy he was cloned of) out of all the other grimwalkers, but he didn't KNOW that he was a grimwalker until a very angsty reveal by his abuser (Belos) who then immediately tried to murder his ass.
ANYWAYS, obviously, as the angst-lover I am, I think about this literally all the time. Then. I started thinking. I absolutely love Alastor, he's such a blorbo. And what do I do to my blorbos? I give them immeasurable amounts of trauma, c'mon, keep up.
What do we know about Alastor? Well, someone owns his soul. He disappeared for unknown reasons for seven years. He is INCREDIBLY anxious about whoever owns his soul - or at least the deal itself (as evidenced by his musical breakdown where he literally TEARS HIS OWN HAIR OUT FROM THE STRESS), and that he's probably going to use the deal with Charlie either for nefarious purposes, or to escape his deal.
Which brings us to the point of this post in the first place (kind of???? I might have just been mindlessly rambling there), and the start of my AU. I'm not going to pretend I know who owns Alastor's soul, but I really vibe with the idea of it being either Lilith or Roo, so that's who I'll be thinking of for the majority of this post. What if the person who owns his soul made a deal with him when he first got to hell (or it could be one of those versions where someone sold his soul before he was even born [a sort of "I want your first-born kinda deal] and they let him know when he got to hell which is how he got all his power so quickly), but he managed to either tick them off or get really close to escaping the deal, which lead to them killing Alastor.
Then, the contract-owner realizes, "Oh shit, I kind of need him," and finds out how to make whatever the hell equivalent of a grimwalker is. Thus, Alastor 2.0 is born. However, they can't have him knowing he's a clone - he might find a loophole in the deal that way. So they find a way to control which memories he has. They replace all of the memories the OG Alastor had up until whatever it was he did to get killed in the first place - don't want him getting any ideas after all.
This works fine for the contract-holder for a while, but then Alastor is back on the same shit - trying to find loopholes, backdoors, ticking them off, whatever, and oops, there goes another one. Well shit. Guess it's time to make another clone. So, the process is repeated, and the song and dance continues. However, it always concludes the same way - with Alastor's inevitable "betrayal". Also, none of the clones ever seem to look quite right - sometimes the eye color is wrong, or the height, the cheekbones, or the nose shape - whatever it is, something is always off
So, after many failed attempts, they decide to take a different approach. When they make the new clone, they give them the same memories, everything is the same as the previous attempts, except they don't turn him loose right away. Instead, they keep him under their thumb for seven years - really just until there was something they needed him for. Those seven years were spent conditioning him. They were determined to make him perfect. After all, this clone was the one that looked the most like the original Alastor, there was no way they would let him go like the others.
In his time at their side, Alastor endured unspeakable cruelties - beatings, torture, extreme sensory deprivation, emotional manipulation, sleep deprivation, total isolation - you name it, it was almost certainly done during that time. This is also when his smile was sewn on because the contract holder wanted him to smile more, and used his defense mechanism to torture him (smiled to hide weakness, forced to smile against his will, making the smile itself a constant reminder of how powerless he really is). There was rarely an action Alastor did that provoked his contract holder, but that didn't matter. They convinced him that each "punishment" was earned, that they were simply trying to help him see his own shortcomings and failures, and to make him better. Obviously, this is complete bullshit. However, when you live like that long enough, with no other influences, you become conditioned to believe it.
Eventually, for whatever reason, the contract holder released Alastor on strict orders to go to Charlie's hotel, and Alastor is doing exactly what they told him because he's terrified of the idea of being summoned back to their side. He hates his contract holder, but at the same time craves their approval, because if they're happy with him, then he won't be in pain. However, Alastor has to Alastor, and once he's on his own, he starts looking for ways to escape his deal - but he's sneaky about it. Years of constant conditioning made him cautious. He has no memory of ever searching for loopholes before - a least not successfully (bc the contract holder doesn't let the clones remember those things), so he does the best thing he can think of: he makes a deal with the Princess of Hell herself.
I'm definitely going to make another post about this, probably detailing the reveal. Not right now though because I have homework to do, and this is getting to ungodly lengths
(if you want to see the next part when I post it, keep an eye on the '#grimwalker alastor au' tag. I might just make this a whole thing if anyone is interested. I'll make it a whole thing anyways because I feel like it and deep down I post for myself, but if you're interested, I highly encourage you to ask about it [I don't bite!!])
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hochmvt · 1 month ago
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❝  MY  ENTIRE  SKY  CRAVES  ONLY  YOUR  STAR  ❞ —  college  au  starter  for  @verflcht
If Isaiah had been honest with himself, MIT had been the only actual prospect he had. Had it not been for this particular university, he probably would never have gone to one altogether. The thought of going to uni had its appeal, but he never really knew if it was the right thing to do. Making a decision for the rest of his life at 18 felt so terribly grotesque that he questioned the sense of the entire educational system. Maybe it would have made sense to take some time off, leave Greenville and see what the world had to offer. But the scholarship practically took the pressure of making that decision off him, the summer passed, as everything in life eventually does, the fall turned the campus into a warm-toned sea of leaves, the winter had ushered him to attend student parties and make friends. And with the first rays of sunshine of the new year, not only did a few friendships blossom, but so did Isaiah. A single thousand-voiced, thousand-winged hum of joy that everything was starting all over again. This must be what it felt like to be liked.
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High school hadn't necessarily been the easiest of times for the blonde. He still had contact with very few people from there, although he sometimes spoke with Sophia on the telephone. There was one more contact he would have liked to have kept; with the boy with the alert eyes and sharp mind, curious and kind. With the colorful potpourri of random bits of miscellaneous knowledge that he always shared with him, even though the situation rarely matched. Moments like these had been so beautiful about him. The new kid who had never felt like a stranger. Not for a second. He'd had to leave Greenville in an overnight move, his family had had their reasons for moving cities with alarming regularity, but something seemed to have been going on for some undefined period of time. It had taken Isaiah a long time to get over the fact that the one person who had actually understood him in some way was suddenly gone. He had lain in his mother's arms because he didn't feel he could talk to anyone else about it. There was still so much he wanted to find out about him: What had made him the person he was, how his mind worked, how he liked to be touched, what he thought about at night when the world was empty and silent. They hadn't even exchanged phone numbers. Isaiah had no address to write to. Nothing. Just memories that were slowly fading. Student life had not only distracted him, but also kept him on his toes. His lectures and tutorials demanded a lot from him, every A+ seemed to make his mother very proud on the phone and his academic achievements not only earned him positive attention from his lecturers, but also seemingly a certain social standing. His fellow students greeted him, invited him to student parties (where pale pink dawn light greeted him in the morning - something Isaiah, who loathed parties for most of his life, had never thought of himself) or study circles. Rainy weekdays were often spent in the library or at Marc's apartment, and the first days of summer were often spent outside in the campus's spacious lawn. On days like these, the sun tickled his nose and warmed his face. Regardless of how nice the weather was, it was as if Isaiah was clinging to an anticipatory melancholy, as if the most beautiful of situations was always a little cloudy.
The physics department had organized one of the many celebrations to which the other faculties were also invited. He had seen Barbara, Andrew, Garret and Lydia from the biology department, his peers, as well as some of his other friends and acquaintances. One of them was Alden Tyrell, a tall, gray-haired man, a heavyset giant with thick, black horn-rimmed glasses, who smiled politely at Isaiah and gestured for him to join him.
Tyrell seemed to have seen something in the blonde boy as he had sat in his lecture. As if he had seen through him, knowing that Isaiah's thirst for knowledge didn't stop at equations and lecture notes. It had only taken a few weeks for the man in his mid-fifties to take the freshman under his wing, encouraging and challenging him, even beyond the curriculum. And now, like some other students, usually in their 7th semester and not like him, in his third, he orbited around Tyrell like a small planet in a fixed path. One evening Isaiah had told his mentor (he was on his fourth glass of wine and they had moved away from the physics curriculum and instead talked about things no serious physicist would ever devote his life's work to) that he believed something else lay beyond their reality. ��I don't want to- I mean, it's not like I want to portray myself as anyone important here, I- I'm sorry, I don't find better words right now, but sometimes it feels like I'm seeing the edges of something... but I can't make out what edges I'm seeing. As if the outlines of whatever I'm aiming for are just out of reach. Or blurred.” Tyrell had looked at him for a while and said nothing. Isaiah had felt like he'd crossed a line and had looked down at his wine glass, embarrassed by his thoughts, as a single drop slowly ran down the stem of the glass. “That's where the truth's hidden, Isaiah,” he had replied at some point, ”In the edges. The limits of perception. Where reality starts to fray.” That had touched him, that he had listened and hadn't dismissed his thoughts.
Such conversations, however, would not take place this evening. Tyrell had introduced him to some colleagues Isaiah didn't know personally, but he had heard their names several times. Faculty legends, Nobel Prize winners among them. He was uncomfortable with the tone in which his lecturer spoke of him, but he put on a happy face and played along, listening to the six men as they philosophized and excusing himself a little later to go back to his friends. “You wanna dance with us?” Evelyn had asked him and Isaiah had just shaken his head, sipped his drink and wished them a good time as he leaned against the wall and watched them, toasting towards them and smiling genuinely.
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starrwrrld · 4 months ago
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Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/ paste this ask to your favorite mutuals 💌🖤 ily!!!!!
asdfghjksd thank you for this lav! <3
i love you more btw
my favourite playlist is one that has the potential to absolutely wreck tf outta me.
anyways,
Life After Life - Elijah Woods
Run - Hozier
This Town - Niall Horan
Notice Me - ROLE MODEL (feat. BENEE)
Painkiller - Ruel
Mwah <3
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thevaudevillescene · 9 months ago
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Kirby is sooooo…her process to figure out the last question? Hello? Kevin Williamson said, “I’m going to create a character that’s SO neurodivergent.”
Sidney taking a more active role in this scene compared to how it played out in the movie is super interesting because she’s said more than once that she doesn’t watch scary movies, but she immediately calls out the trick questions.
And Charlie? Die.
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xfang-is-deadx · 5 months ago
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I wasn't the person I was when I found you,
Am I acting different when I'm not around you?
I'm being dramatic, I say that I'm losing
I wanna show you all the things I've been doing
I'm going on dates and I'm hanging my head
I wanna share an apartment, a room, and a bed
I wanna tell you I love you, but I cannot reach you
I'm learning to lose, that's the thing they don't teach you
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roscolate · 1 year ago
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OH MAN FEELS GOOD TO GET STABBED WITH FEAR AND HEARTBREAK EARLY IN THE MORNING 🥲🥲🥲
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ACT 1
ACT 2 - 1 <<< 41 / 42 / ?
:)
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therestofmyfandoms · 8 months ago
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seeing the first monk enemies in the game - and they're high-level githyanki - is incredibly validating as someone who's been playing monk this whole time, yet it makes me realize how incredibly *frustrating* fighting monks are. my character is fine but all my party members keep getting toppled by flurry of blows and getting insanely hurt. what a good class
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kyuujo · 1 month ago
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↳ check yes or no
↳ sae itoshi x fem!reader ↳ sfw ↳ influencer!reader, established relationship, hidden(ish) relationship, going public, language, fluff + crack(?), jealous!sae, kissing on livestream, slight possessiveness, shat outta my ass ngl, my writing
↳ 1.3k words
↳ i’m sorry sae has me in a chokehold (i love it harder pls) and this little brain bug just randomly slid into my skull sooooo here it is! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy dahlings! <3
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(y/u/n)fan1998: welcome back lovely!
switterz: good to see you again! hope ur feeling better!
emi44578: i missed you so much!
a smile pulled at your lips and your chest warmed at the multitude of messages flooding your livestream. your throat was still a little sore, but thankfully your stomach had stopped rolling the day prior, and you’d been fever free for twenty-four hours. you didn’t feel completely better, but you felt well enough to at least start a small stream.
“aw, thank you guys so much.” you croaked, voice slightly groggy and thick. “i’m feeling a bit better, but as you can probably hear, i’m not outta the woods yet.”
once more, messages flooded your screen, so fast that you could hardly catch more than a mere glimpse of one before it was pushed up by another. your fans seemed to be extremely pleased by your online appearance, and it made you so happy despite the sickness still weighing down your body.
you hated having to take time off, especially unexpectedly.
the chat slowed to a comfortable trickle as you dived into the events of the past week, starting off with how you even got sick in the first place. you had to tweak the truth a bit — after all, you couldn’t exactly tell your audience that you’d caught a cold by attending your boyfriend’s game alongside a snotty, congested child.
“… this kid was sneezing all over the place, and the mother didn’t even care to wipe his nose or the things he sneezed on. it was so gross.” you complained, receiving a fair share of agreements and sympathies from your viewers.
it was as you were berating the mothering skills of a complete stranger when something familiar caught your eye. a username followed by a simple message, one you’d seen time and time again.
(y/n)husband1: (y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no
you forced out a small laugh and shook your head as you addressed the message. your skin felt tight suddenly, that username always putting you off just slightly.
“i’m afraid i’m going to have to check ‘no.’ i’m in a very happy relationship.” the same answer you gave every time.
there was a flurry of comments again, some berating the user who had even typed a message like that and others calling out cap on your statement. you were fairly used to that; you’d never even shown sae on camera before, so your relationship was as good as hearsay to your viewers.
“okay, let’s just calm down.” you chipped out, barely suppressing a cough that threatened to rip through your throat. “i’ll need to take some more medicine soon, so i don’t have very long. let’s do some q and a before i go.”
thirty minutes later and over two dozen questions answered, you finally said goodbye to your viewers and clicked off the livestream. your shoulders sagged with relief instantly, and you let out a small sigh.
“how’d it go?”
you startled at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts. sae’s voice was a smooth, seemingly uninterested rumble. you calmed your racing heart and hummed as you stood from your chair, raising your arms up to stretch out your stiff torso.
“not bad at all. they weren’t mad at me, at least.”
sae rolled his eyes as you ambled to his side, his arm immediately sliding around your hip as he guided you to the sitting quarters.
“so what if they were? the feelings and thoughts of insignificant strangers aren’t important.”
you clapped your palm over his chest gently and shushed him. sae was always blunt like this; but his words did remind you of something.
“oh. that reminds me. (y/n)husband1 struck again.”
you know you didn’t imagine the way sae’s fingers tightened on your hip. was it wrong that you took some pleasure in that? maybe.
“what did they say this time?” sae murmured a bit tightly.
you huffed and rolled your eyes. “the same thing they always say. ‘(y/n) will you go out with me? check yes or no.’”
“it’s incredible they don’t already have a girlfriend, what with that irresistible smooth talk.” sae quipped, pulling a giggle from your throat. you shook your head and wrapped your arm around his rib cage, stumbling slightly from the awkward position.
“let’s just go find a movie, baby.” you suggested, your statement quickly garnering sae’s agreement. cuddles late into the night were always your favorite; and you had a feeling they were sae’s too.
three days later, you were completely recovered and back to your usual streaming schedule. your viewers were quite happy with the development, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing.
well, except for the occasional whirlpool conjured by the appearance of (y/n)husband1. they seemed to strike when you least expected it, and always with the same stupid question — the same stupid question that earned the same stern answer.
even your viewers seemed to be becoming irate by it, as they expressed their distaste on multiple occasions.
switterz: why dont u just block them from your streams? they’re annoying!
(y/u/n)fan1998: yea they’re clogging up the chat log all the time! and harassing u!
you wet your lips and said, slightly timidly, “well, technically, they aren’t breaking any rules guys. the best thing to do is simply ignore them, like i do.”
a majority of the chat seemed to disagree, but you weren’t wrong in what you said; though they spammed the same message again and again, they technically weren’t breaking any of the rules you had set in place during your first few streams.
suddenly, as if on the drop of a hat, the chat began to flood with a different topic — one that seemed to have taken over the controversy of (y/n)husband1 entirely.
switterz: SAE FCKIN ITOSHI????
emi44578: why is sae itoshi in ur house?!!?!?????
jackerquack: WTF HELLO SAE
user193949294: DONT TELL ME YOUR BF IS SAE ITOSHI!!!!
usererror404: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE THERES NO WAY
“what—?”
“i have to agree with the chat. you should block them.”
you swiveled around in your chair only to nearly touch noses with sae. your eyes widened and your lips popped open. what the hell was he doing? wasn’t his pr manager the one that insisted his relationship with you stay underwraps? just what was even happening?
there were hundreds of questions you wanted to ask, but in your pure shock you simply could work any past your lips; sae blinked once, then twice, before turning his eyes to the monitor in front of you.
“for those who have been wondering if she’s in a relationship, she is. with me. so no more harassment, or lying accusations.”
your heart was literally racing in your chest, your entire body frozen. sae was acting completely normal, as if he hadn’t just gone against every wish of his pr manager. you didn’t feel scared, per se, but the only emotion you could liken what you felt to was fear.
“demonking12 says they don’t believe it.” sae observed smoothly, eyes skimming down the chat. “and there’s some others who second that…”
you couldn’t even look at your screen — your eyes were glued to sae. how could he be so calm right now?!
sae turned to meet your stare of disbelief, and your stomach rolled when his lips quirked into the smallest, most mischievous smirk you’d ever seen grace his features.
“should we prove it?”
“um, what—?” you couldn’t even finish your blubbering before sae leaned in quickly and captured your lips with his — right in 4k!
the kiss wasn’t messy, or even sultry in nature, but it had your nerves lighting up and your cheeks flaring. sae’s lips were soft, warm, and almost commanding — it lasted a total of three seconds, but it was long enough to have your legs feeling weak.
sae pulled away but left just enough space between the two of you that you could see the sly swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip — as if he were collecting remnants of your taste.
“i’m pretty sure you’ve met your hour stream goal; time to entertain me, now.”
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thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed! likes, comments and reblogs are by no means required but are so greatly appreciated! <33
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teawiththespleen · 1 year ago
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new ringtone
IFFFYOUBELLYFLOPPEDWHHHHEEEZZEEEAAANNNDDDIED
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mrs-weasley-reid · 5 months ago
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DOCTORS ACROSS THE HALL
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Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader
Synopsis: Sleep-deprived and traumatized, Spencer Reid attempts to pin the blame on his innocent new neighbor (he can't). Word Count: 2k+ Warning: meet cute-ish(?) fluff(?) i'm not sure anymore, lol. light mentions of death and trauma. a few curses. not proofread !!!! A/N: inspired by S2 x E14 & 15, we all know what i mean hehe
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Spencer Reid's eyes are dry.
Each blink is a terrifying journey. Afraid that he'll go back in the past—in that hut—in between the millisecond of closing his eyes.
He's seeing nothing but blurry darkness, and yet he can still feel Tobias Hankel's shaky palms across the skin of his arm.
"It helps."
"Trust me."
The same four words ring in Spencer's ears, encouraging pain—paranoia.
"It helps."
"Trust me."
With every breath Spencer takes, they hitch in the middle of his throat. Forever stuck and dies there with no trace of hope for the next generation of traveling air.
Hope that he'll be able to breathe without tugging aches all over his chest is long gone.
No man would ever be the same had they been in the situation he went through. He can't help but feel weak. And it's eating Spencer alive to the point of deliberate insomnia.
He doesn't remember the last time he'd ever slept like a normal person.
"It helps."
Knock, knock.
"Trust me."
Knock, knock, knock.
Spencer opens his eyes. He's not sure when slumber took over his mind or if he even participated in sleep at all. Chances are he was too dissociated from reality that he's left his body frozen for a while. Nonetheless, in the little time he spent in serene blankness, only one emotion brews in him.
Anger.
Who in their right minds would go out knocking at—Spencer glances at the clock on his nightstand—2 AM?
Knock, knock, KNOCK—
It stops.
A creak echoes in the hall as muffled voices scratch Spencer's ears. He can't make out the words, only the wave of the softest and gentlest whispers he's ever heard.
On a different day, he may have let it go. Hell, a different him would have let it go.
The Spencer from one week ago would have let it go.
The Spencer who never felt so nauseous at the sight of his own blood along the canvas of his temple. The Spencer with an awkward grin without the baggage of Tobias Hankel's torture over his shoulders.
The Spencer he used to be.
But despite everyone's loving support. Despite the bragging rights he gained for surviving a serial killer. No one can loosen the throttling chokehold of trauma around his neck. Not even him.
Spencer catches himself clenching his fists too tight. Crescent indentations sting on his palm—nostalgic and unsettling. He only grits his jaw at the thought. And comes in the invigorating vibrations all over his chest.
There it is again.
The useless anger.
A loaded gun with no target.
The man is dead. Tobias Hankel is dead.
Spencer wonders about the use of his boiling anger when the person he loathes is already rotting in his grave.
Without any other outlet to unleash the colossal mass of suppressed rage brewing inside of him, Spencer makes good use of one of the most common defense mechanisms: displacement.
Maybe screaming at someone will deflate the tightness across his chest and clear his mind a bit in the form of self-loathing after he realizes the grave immaturity of his plan.
He lifts his body off his mattress, swinging his legs on the side of his bed as he methodically rubs his eyes against the lamp's brightness. Strands of his hair go array around the vertical circumference of his head like an electric halo.
A huff pulses off his lips. He swallows a lump of thick air as he weighs his next moves.
Part of Spencer died in that cemetery. What difference does it make if he screams at the world? If he screams at—
His brows furrow, eyes narrow, and ears perk.
It's different this time.
Irritating knocks. Opening door. Muffled whispering. Closing door. Then quiet for an hour.
That has been a constant for the past five days. A constant routine that he felt indifferent about but somehow grew annoyed by.
But it's different this time.
The door across the hall didn't close.
And it's been five minutes.
Before Spencer knows it, his hand turns the knob and swings the door open.
Two women across from him. They are in the middle of what seems to be a tight hug before one bids her goodbye and lightly runs down the stairs.
Spencer watches as the other disappears down the lower level. Anger morphs into confusion.
"Did we bother you?"
He jolts back, snapping his gaze to the woman across. "What?"
You smile apologetically, "I'm sorry about the noise—"
"Dr. Spencer Reid," He spits. Spencer's forehead creases. He wonders what prompted his mouth to openly provide his full name to a stranger, specifically when the information was not asked for.
"Oh," You blink, lightly jumping on your toes. An unseen glint sparks in your eyes. You introduce yourself as a response, a lot less threatening than he did but equally awkward. You smile again. Sweetly, this time. Like you're looking at a puppy.
Spencer's brows bounce over his forehead as the hand over his doorknob loosens. "You're a doctor?" He inquires.
You nod, "Mhm, what are the odds, right?" You chuckle. The sound echoes around the quiet hall.
"11.76%."
"What?"
"The odds—" Spencer scratches the back of his neck, "—it's 11.76%. There are fourteen tenants in this building, including you. We both found out we're doctors, and I know none of our neighbors are. Most of the neighbors are living alone besides the old couple on the first floor, but I know none of them are doctors. That's two in fifteen people. So 11.76%. But now I realize you weren't being literal about it..." Heat rushes against the skin of his face.
Silence hovers between the two of you. He feels more awake than he was minutes ago for an entirely different reason—embarrassment. Spencer wishes that some sort of earthquake would open up the floor and swallow him.
"Interesting," You finally speak, changing the leg where you placed your weight. "I tried calculating it myself and got the same result. You were right."
His mouth falls agape. A surge of warmth strikes his chest. "You were calculating?" Spencer squints, rubbing an eye out of habit due to his current predicament and baffled by your antic all the same.
You nod again, "Just cause you're my neighbor doesn't mean I'll just take your word for it, you know. But I have to admit, it was cool that you figured that out in a second. You have my respect." You flash a playful smile, hugging your chest at the sudden draft.
"Ahh," Spencer steps back into his apartment. The tinge of giddiness is quickly replaced by sleep deprivation and anxiety. A hand throws itself into the cavity of his eye socket, pushing it close to remove the pain that's settling in.
Flashes of bright light blind him in the dark shade of his eyelids. Frustration swiftly creeps over his shoulders. Like he's drowning above water, tied down, and has no air to gasp for. Panic begins to paralyze him. All seems lost, and darkness slowly—
"Would you like some tea?"
Spencer blinks, lifting his gaze back at you as your soft smile slowly adjusts his sight.
"I have a new brand of tea I've been dying to open. Would you like some?" You repeat, tilting your head a bit as you await a response. When you don't get one, you add, "I promise I don't bite." And your heart flutters at the little twitch at the ends of his lips.
He concludes you're roughly two weeks fresh from moving in. Here you are, inviting a stranger in the middle of the night to enjoy tea inside your home.
Seems reckless.
Idiotic.
But Spencer doesn't say no.
He walks towards you like he's leaving a world to explore another. Anxiety slowly dissipates with each step he takes. A contrast of what he feels each second that passes while he lies awake.
You step aside to give him way. "Grab a seat—" you gesture towards the kitchen -island-slash-dining-table, "—The girl you saw usually stays longer, so I already heat some water. Is chamomile okay?" You talk as you maneuver around your small kitchen.
Spencer finds a seat closest to the door. For all he knows, you're the serial killer on your end of the skeptical assumptions in his head.
"Nice apartment," He says out of the obligatory guest etiquette. Spencer takes in every bit of your reflection in your home.
It's inviting. Warm and cozy. The hint of oat and lavender whiffs past his nose. Your place is adorned with small, warm lights, brightening each corner with sunset tones.
Your chuckle brings his attention back to you. "Don't be shy, Dr. Reid," You glance at him over your shoulder. "It's messy. You can say it."
"If a couple of books on your table is messy to you, you should see my side of the building."
Spencer straightens up as confusion spreads over his face.
How do you do that?
Make him feel comfortable with words and a gentle voice. Everyone on his team has been doing the same exact thing, but somehow, you get something out of him without further prompting.
The image of your coffee table pops in his head. Cultural Psychology. Learning Psychotherapy. Trauma and Dreams. And a few more books that clocks his interest in you further down the rabbit hole.
"You're a psychologist," He announces into the air.
"Psychiatrist, actually," You place a mug in front of Spencer, finding a seat across from him. "But what gave it away? The tea or the messy apartment?" You ask into your mug that says 'you're purrfect' in pink lowercase and has a cat’s paw under the lettering. A playful smile is curving your lips.
Spencer accepts the blue mug, brows rising at the police box outlined image over the blue stain. He wouldn’t have expected you as a fan of Doctor Who, but who’s he to judge? A part of him wants to discuss common interests, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to change the subject.
"T-the books." He says hesitantly, uncertain whether the art of observation has marked him a creep right at that moment.
You hum, "Thought I would've been more mysterious than that." You chuckle, pulling a leg against your chest. "And you?" You inquire back.
"I have three PhDs," Spencer shares shyly, breaking eye contact masked as drinking your quite tasteful tea. He notes to ask the brand you're so enthusiastic about later on.
"Three?" Your eyes glisten under the warm light.
He nods.
"Let me guess, 190."
"190?"
"Your IQ," You lean back against the table, "My guess is you graduated young. Went to high school, college, and graduate school as a puppy." You add, amping with adoration over the new information.
"A puppy is a strong word, but yes," Spencer blushes now, hoping the small lighting leans in his favor to hide the red tint over every bit of his skin. “And just 187, not that big of a deal.”
"Just 187? You're just being humble, right?" You giggle, "I bet some prestigious agency hired you at a young age, and you're called the genius kid." You jest, genuinely interested in him more than ever.
More like the boy genius. But can’t possibly expose himself more than you already did out of sheer lucky guesses. Spencer avoids meeting your eyes like it's the plague. "You awfully guess a lot..."
You gasp, placing your mug on the table, "Shut up! I was close, was I? Oh my gosh!" You're laughing now, utterly comfortable to show quirks that people you just met shouldn't see yet. "I'm good at this. I think I'll be okay later, then." You say to yourself, nodding in satisfaction.
"For what?" Spencer chimes, troubles slipping away to the back of his mind and the sound of your hush laughter lulling him. It might be the tea or the possibility that you'd drugged him, but his body felt light for the first time in weeks. He doesn't have any complaints.
"I moved here for a job," You start attentively, making sure that you don't share too much. "But I have people. They'll search for me in case you turn out to be a serial killer."
His brows jump, "How do I know you're not the serial killer? Women can be one, too. And statistically, women who are serial killers are attractive."
"Are you saying I'm attractive, Dr. Reid?"
"I—" Spencer freezes, heat flowing to his ears. "I-I was making a point—" He cuts himself off. He wonders when the earthquake he's wished for earlier is coming to save him from embarrassment.
You stay silent, reveling in his stuttering voice.
"Is that coffee? I thought you made tea." He changes the subject—poorly.
You don't mind it one bit, indulging at the sight of his pinkish ears covered by his unruly hair. "I invited you for tea. I didn't say I'll drink one with you." You take a sip of the caffeine, rubbing the idea on his face.
Spencer responds with a subtle roll of his eyes that makes you chuckle more than intended. "Why coffee at three in the morning?" He asks gently, not wanting to step over any boundaries.
"I'm supposed to start my job later. I heard my patients need a lot of assistance, so I need to study and make sure I give them the right help."
"That sounds noble," He yawns, the first of many.
Spencer never thought your smile could get any sweeter, "I haven't officially met them yet. So, I really wish it goes well."
It might be the chamomile tea with a hint of honey finally working in his veins, but Spencer thinks you're beaming like an angel descending from the skies.
He yawns, and you giggle once more, "I think you should go to sleep, Dr. Reid."
“Yeah, yeah, I should,” Spencer’s eyebrows collide at the sadness in his chest. His body feels comfortable in his seat. Getting out of it feels like torture. 
You both stand from your seats, walking him towards the door. 
Spencer turns around before he closes his, a sleepy smile on his face. "Thanks for the tea," He yawns, a hand covering his mouth.
“You’re— hold on, give me one second,” You turn around and back inside your apartment. He can’t see you but can hear your light footsteps on the floorboards as you run to your coffee table and back inside the frame of your front door. 
Spencer patiently waits as you walk to his end of the hall, take his hand out, and hand him a heart lollipop. 
“Take this. They help with the bad craving,” You advertise as you walk backward. Before he completely shuts the door, you call for him, "Oh, and Dr. Reid."
Spencer swings the door open back wider, "Yes?"
"I think you're attractive too."
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reid masterlist | masterlist
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junislqve · 6 months ago
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ᯓ million dollar — ot7
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syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)
pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi
notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately
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LEE HEESEUNG
“take as much time as you want, love”
earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.
your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.
heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.
“do you need a new dress, love?”
after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.
and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.
heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.
walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.
“spend it all on anything you want, baby”
PARK JONGSEONG
as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.
jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.
you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.
it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.
“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”
you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.
right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.
you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.
when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.
“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”
SIM JAEYUN
“but you look so good in these, babe”
opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.
the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.
you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.
“i seriously need to go on a ban”
“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.
“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.
“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.
that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.
“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.
“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”
PARK SUNGHOON
as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.
and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.
you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.
when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.
even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.
on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.
“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”
KIM SUNOO
sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.
it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.
sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.
but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.
he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.
so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.
with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.
“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”
YANG JUNGWON
he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.
it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.
anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.
his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.
both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.
“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.
“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”
NISHIMURA RIKI
as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.
he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.
you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.
the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.
“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.
“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.
silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.
“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.
he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.
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© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago
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hello bunny! may i please order a millionaire shortcake with a side of mocha coffee, served by dark!lando norris for verstappen!reader after zandvoort? thank you so so much ♡♡♡
bakery menu!
want to submit your own order? the bakery is open! (yay), there are tons of items from choose from and i am so thankful for everyone who has sent me things! i am currently working through some of the older prompts! so thank you to those who sent orders weeks ago, i am slowly getting through them <3
millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." + mocha coffee: breeding kink served by lando norris (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, post!zandvoort gp, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!lando, doggy style, chokehold
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when you saw lando sail past the finish line multiple seconds ahead of your brother, you felt your stomach drop. this was max's to win, race after race the gap between him and lando was getting smaller and smaller. but, it wasn't just your brother losing out on another world championship, it was what lando called "the icing on the cake".
he beat your brother, and afterwards he got to sink into your pussy. anything lando wanted that night, he got. and winning the dutch grand prix, your brother's home race, you could only imagine what lando had in store for you tonight.
when your gaze met lando's he winked at you and you quickly turned back to your brother. your phone buzzed in your pocket and you felt a tightness in your throat. it was going to be a long night.
if max knew what you and lando got up to in the off-hours of racing. he would probably kill lando. you've seen max get aggressive with a number of drivers, even before formula one. in fairness you carried that aggressiveness too. stubborn, assertive, bordering on mean. you had an ex-boyfriend say it was the 'lion's blood', but you proved to be too much for him. lando made you into a kitten. gone were the claws and fangs, with him you were mewling, nipping at his hands rather than chewing into flesh.
it was maybe why you kept coming back.
you stood in the mirror of lando's hotel room. you knew you should be with your family right now. but instead you ended up with the winner of the race. most would've ran by now, hidden away in the hopes that lando wouldn't sniff you out.
"he could've put me in anything, but, why this." you dropped your shoulders, "fuckin' orange." to call what lando gave you as lingerie would be a disservice to the people who carefully craft such underwear. lando put you in something a porn star would wear, barely held together with thread and lace. the icing on the cake was the temporary tattoo on your thigh close to your pussy that was of the number four. lando's number. and you knew it would be a bitch to get off in the morning.
there was a knock at the door and you said, "relax, lando." before you took one last deep breath before you turned away from the mirror and headed out of the bedroom. lando's smile dropped at the sight of you. before he could say anything you said, "why did you pick orange. i look bad in orange."
lando picked his jaw up off the floor and went to you, a slight sway to his step as he closed the gap between you two. he rested his hands on your hips while you crossed your arms. he looked at you and smiled with those dazzling teeth of his. he said, "well because of mclaren."
"right, right. and it has nothing to do with the dutch at all." you get his gaze leveled with him. and his smile only grew.
"a coincidence." he said, heat in his tone, "you're just over thinking things. you know i don't like it when you think too much." his words made you run painfully hot. you had to give lando credit, he knew exactly how to get under your skin. he loved when you were stupid, dumb enough for him.
you made a face and he pulled you in for a hot kiss, one hand on the back of your neck. you squirmed against him and clung to the front of his t-shirt. the kiss was hot. it was heated in a way that you never had with anyone else. since you met lando, fucking other men bored you. you weren't a couple, this wasn't a relationship. this was mutually assured destruction as you pulled away from him.
"i was expecting worse from you. orange lingerie and a temporary tattoo, that seems tame for you." you remarked as you played with one of the straps of the bra. you could name on one hand all of the intense situations that lando had put you in.
from sex in a car that didn't have tinted windows on a side street in italy, to the time you went to the sex club in switzerland, and especially that time you has dinner with his family while there was a vibrator slipped into your aching cunt.
he tilted his head to the side and shrugged, "as much as i love torturing you, babygirl. i thought we'd keep it close to home, close together. as much as i would've loved to fuck you with the bed hitting the wall to your brother's room, i thought this was better." he cupped your breasts.
you groaned, "enough about my brother." you were soon pulled into the bedroom. lando had enough kindness left in him to fuck you on a mattress. there had been times you were left with rug burns in places where there should never be rug burns.
you got into the king sized bed and looked at him as he started to undress. your rubbed your thighs together and braced yourself on your arms. your body was so exposed to him. you knew he was hungry for you. just like he was hungry for the prize.
"fuck." he groaned, his cock was painfully hard. the tip a deep red and leaking thick pre-cum. his face more pink than usual as he got into the bed with you and rubbed his cock up against your thigh. the kisses grew hotter as you ended up on your stomach and totally nude. you could already feel the rush of pleasure throughout your body.
"lando." you groaned, "it's not fair that you can fuck this good. you deserve to suck at sex." your back arched a little further and lando smacked your ass.
"i love when you just shut up, beautiful. you're meant to sit there be pretty. guess that's why your brother looks that way, you took all the good looks. but because of that, you need to learn to shut the fuck up." he groaned as he rubbed his achy cock up against your ass, "seen, not heard." it was all dirty talk and it made you brain spark with pleasure. he had such a grip on you, he could degrade you every way and you'd still let him fuck you.
"fuck you, lando." you groaned. you tensed up as he slammed his cock into you. not caring about takin ghis time. you needed to be fucked right now. fuck some sense into you. your little yapping mouth needed to be quiet for a while. just while lando was feeling the high of his win.
you shuddered, "fuck. lando." your hips were raised more as lando pressed more of his weight against you. his cock filled you in a painful way when he took little time to prep you. tonight was his night, he didn't have to prep you.
he hissed through a tense jaw as he fucked you with little abandon. the bed shifted under you from the force he was fucking you with. he felt something heavy in his chest, he felt the sexual pull towards you. he needed you deeply, carnally. he needed to ruin you for any other man. maybe it was a possessive drive, but it kept him coming back for you.
"if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." he choked out, he could feel the hammering in his head as he rutted against you.
"shut the fuck up." you groaned as you gripped the pillows under your face. you clawed into the fabric and groaned, "shut up, shut up, shut up!" you wanted to throw the pillow at him.
it only spurred lando on as he fucked you with heavy thrusts. he eventually grabbed you by the arms and pulled them back using it as a way to bounce you on his achy cock. you whined a little louder as he said, "maybe i should get you pregnant. finish in your tonight, make a big fuckin' mess between your legs and ship you back to your dear, older brother. then a month passes and you have to tell him that you're pregnant. he's going to lose it." he pulled you against him tighter as his cock remained buried inside of you. your cunt was nice around his cock and it made him feel amazing all over.
"shit no." you whined.
lando laughed, "oh c'mon, be my wife? how does that sound, steal you from right under you brother's nose. he'd never know what hit him." his pace became quicker and you were seeing stars. reason left your brain and your core throbbed.
you whimpered and lando continued his rapid movements. there was little space for you to breath during his thrusts. you felt your heart in your throat as he fucked the words out of your head. you whimpered and whined. your noises were music to his ears.
"lemme make you a mama, beautiful. let me get you nice and pregnant." his words curled in your brain and you were left feeling on cloud nine, "you'd raise 'em so well. be such a good mother to them." his voice grew tight as the need to finish grew.
he fucked you, letting your arms drop in favor of your hips. the soft part of you that he loved the bruise. he bullied his cock into your achy pussy. the idea of getting you pregnant made him move against you faster. he could feel the race in his pulse as he fucked you. you with all the aches and pains of pregnancy, carrying his child. he only turned him on greatly. make you his.
you came first, your body betrayed you. you arched your back and near-yelled into the pillows. you hissed, "fuck!" lando continued his brutal pace. he fucked you with a fever that made your eyes roll back a little. there was no escaping lando norris.
"that's it, angel. that's it." he said with near-softness as he rocked his hips against you. he fucked you and then he finished inside of you, even tilted your hips at an angle that made sure it would stay inside of you. you whined a little as he pulled out. he gave your ass one last slap. you were near brain dead on the bed and your breathing was heavy. lando watched you, laid beside you with his hand on your left ass cheek. when you eventually fell asleep, you were curled up on your side and didn't notice when lando shifted in the bed and got out. if his phone wasn't on silent you would've hear the shudder of the camera on his phone.
he sent a photo of your face pressed against the pillows, he wasn't sending your nudes to your brother (your brother's teammate on the other hand). he sent the message to max, "better luck next time, mate. will bring her back before breakfast ;)" <3
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