#But he recently asked me to try and get it going again so I'm having a look at it again and...I honestly have no idea how I did it before X

[quinloki]

I should let this go.

I should.

You're being purposefully obtuse and misinformed and I'm not a political blog ^_^ But, I'm having a god awful first day of the next four years, so I'll take this bite by bite because I'm not getting anything creative done today anyway.

And they picked "President Trump" as the authority figure who said he would figure things out politically and get them back.

You're implying TikTok is too stupid to understand the very clear press release from Biden that said it was okay for them to carry on. That enforcing the law was specifically going to be left to the incoming administration.

You're also implying the company was ignorant of the legislation that effected them directly, which specifically said they were only not allowed to send updates for the application.

So you're either racist toward Chinese, thinking them incapable of basic comprehension, or you're being purposefully obtuse.

To everyone's surprise, that is what happened.

To no one's surprise. This was a grift from the beginning. Trump was the rallying voice to ban TikTok August 2020.

Again, the company isn't stupid enough to forget this.

And here we are. Tiktok is not liking the negative backlash against the Trump and Elon Musk working group who got things done. To Tiktok, they're the ones who got TikTok back. These negative comments could be dangerous given recent history re: President Trump. So they're removing negative comments.

Both comments in the pictures have nothing to do with Trump, or Musk. So your assumption here is flawed on a foundational level.

Again, you're being purposefully obtuse.

Rhetorically, there is no reason to call Trump a bad name here and contribute to the void of an echo chamber. TikTok traced back the "bad people" calling the President bad names and it seems to be left-wing politic people without a real platform to stand on. Tagged as misinformation, it is.

Again. None of the presented items had anything to do with Trump. If I had the inclination I'm 110% certain I could go onto TikTok right now and find dozens of videos and items filled with misinformation about queer folk and history and those items will be intact. I'm even more sure I could report them and be assured they do not violate ToS.

The action isn't the red flag here, it's the sudden shift between Saturday and Today.

But you're not here in good faith by any stretch of the phrase, so it doesn't matter if I show you a dozen articles that describe why people do indeed have a platform to stand on. Just because you don't like the legitimacy of it, doesn't mean it's magically misinformation.

And by TOS'd, do you mean you get banned from the site? Or just having your comment removed?

You realize both images also include the information that you're asking me right now? That you can clearly read for yourself?

This is why I know you're here just being a little shit. Because you're making false connections and asking questions already answered.

Either your reading comprehension is just as bad as you assume TikTok's to be, or you're trying to be a troll. In the end I'm the real moron for taking the bait, but hey, now I'm going to turn notifications off, so knock yourself out conversing further without me 🥰❤️

I think the wildest thing about the TikTok Ban is that TikTok decided to adhere to it beyond the letter of the law.

They bent their knee willingly and gave up space and a platform they did not have to. They consciously decided to fuck over their user base when there was no valid reason for them to do so.

I've seen people talking about how you absolutely do not want to obey ahead of authority, and to see TikTok do it is... weird. It's unsettling. It feels like a dangerous stunt.

Specifically, it feels performative. It's got the marks of a Great Drama™, and given Trump's first 4 years and his absolutely bonkers love for theatrics over anything else, this just feels hollow. Like TikTok is trying to turn it's - generally younger - user base into "fans" of the republicans.

They can't really scoop up youths any other way, honestly. But using a big impactful story and putting Trump as the "hero" who saves their beloved platform.

It's not even the 20th and I just don't like how this new administration is starting. I do not like a private company complying beyond the letter of the law in advance of that law either. Because the only thing the law laid down was that they couldn't update the app on Apple and Google.

There wouldn't have been any fines or legal ramifications.

[mummyscarian]

AITA for accusing my roommate of "cheating" on us?

(a/n: for martyn's wild life aita)

For context, I (29M) am roommates with my best friend (31M), who I'll call G, and a mutual friend of ours (40'sM), who I'll call S. We only recently became roommates, and are still adjusting to living together. S and I get along really well, and I thought G was happy being our roommate too but now I'm not too sure.

So basically, we needed some ingredients for something but we didn't have any, so S and I went out to go get some together while G went out on his own, which I thought was odd, because he could have gone with us.

We ended up getting the ingredients we needed from some friends of ours, and we even ended up getting a cow too, which we also needed! When G got back he didn't tell us where he had gone, but everything still seemed okay to me, until later on, when he, again, said he was going off on his own to go get some supplies. This felt really weird to me, and I asked S if he also thought it was weird, but he didn't at first.

But then G came back a little later, saying he had forgotten something, and I stopped him and asked him to be honest with us about where he was going, and if he was hiding things from us. He was confused, and said he was just going to get supplies for us. S believed him, but I still wasn't sure. We got into a bit of an argument over him leaving on his own, and he was the one who said I was accusing him of "cheating" on him even though I didn't say that specifically, but I do kind of feel like he WAS cheating on us as roommates by leaving so often.

G went off on his own again, and S and I talked for a bit afterwards. Then our friend M came over. M mentioned that he and G had been working together and that he and G had gotten some cows together, which shocked me as G had never mentioned getting any cows at all. S accused M of trying to make G look like a liar, because M is known to try and stir drama sometimes, but M said it was true and to ask some other friends of ours as apparently they had STOLEN the cows from them. We told M to stay here until G got back because we wanted to hear the truth from G.

When G got back, we asked him if had gotten cows. And he immediately said he had! We got upset at M then for trying to make G look bad, but G explained that they had worked together to get the cows. S and I decided to believe him, but M pointed out how quickly I was to accuse both him and G, and G also called me paranoid. We ended up moving on from that and got into a slightly related argument with M which also ended with M calling all three of us paranoid.

Am I really being too paranoid? I feel like I was justified in feeling weird about how G kept leaving S and I. AITA?

update: I ended up talking with G some more, and he told me that he DID tell me he had gotten the cows and hidden them, and I realized I had thought he was talking about MY cow that I had also hidden.

[bitchface24-7]

And I am back once again with my regularly schedules JayVik x reader request!

For context this time, I tend to have a pretty stable sleep schedule but whenever I’m on vacation it kinda goes to shit. This will lead to me staying up til 2am and waking up at noon for days on end which is super annoying. So In order to fix this, I will pull an all-nighter in an attempt to “reset” my sleep schedule (which actually does work but I also super wouldn’t recommend it)

I had to do this again recently and while I’ve gotten used to it, it’s still annoying to deal with. I know for a fact that both Jayce and Viktor have ass sleep schedules and, while Jayce’s may have gotten slightly better after becoming a council member (out of necessity mayhaps), I am still willing to bet money that they both pull regular all nighters

With all that being said, I think it would be nice to pull an all nighter while hanging out in the lab, spending the time trying to keep each other up with too much coffee and dumb conversations. On the flip side, I also think it might be funny if Jayce/Vik tried to convince Reader to just sleep and have reader call them out on their shit

(Also mayhaps some cuddling? Would probably make me fall asleep instantly but also I need to be squished between them (non-sexual style))

Thank you in advanced, hope you’re taking care of yourself :))

ALL NIGHTER - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: all of you have the worst sleep schedules ever. Point blank period. So when you decide to pull an all-nighter with them, you remember how much it sucks; but it does help you fix your sleep schedule in a jiffy. If only the two men didn’t constantly try to get you to sleep. If you’re sleeping; so are they.

warnings: nothing. It’s fluffy like cotton candy. Goofing off, banter, negotiation, cuddling

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I too have to reset my sleep schedule sometimes and I know how ass it makes me feel. But I just can’t help it, I don’t want my day to end (especially if I have things to do the next day) so I just… stay up 😭

Your sleep schedule has been fucked ever since you got time off from your job and took that god-forsaken nap. You took it at five p.m. and woke up at one in the morning. You then stayed up until five pm again and fell asleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Now you're going to use your tried and true method in desperate situations, you’re gonna pull an all nighter.

And who better to do it with than your two boys?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk into the lab, your feet dragging across the floor a bit. It’s almost four p.m. and you can feel the fatigue coursing through your body.

You want to sleep, but you can't.

Viktor and Jayce are experimenting as you come up to their stations. Jayce shoots you a big grin and Viktor just nods lightly in your direction. You walk further into the lab and plop onto your designated rollie chair.

"You okay?" Jayce asks, his big puppy dog eyes looking at you. You tiredly smile at him, "I'm just tired, trying to pull an all-nighter to fix my sleep schedule."

You hear a small hum at your statement, "Understandable. I do the same thing when needed." Viktor adds as he continues to work. Jayce looks worried at you two, "I get my sleep schedule also isn't the best, but I have maybe done an all-nighter once or twice. How often have y'all done this?"

Viktor stops working and contemplates Jayce's question, you look up to the ceiling and try to add up the amount of times you did this, "Anywhere from six to ten times? I really only have to do it after I get time off, I get so excited having nothing to do that I stay up way too late and wake up way too late."

Jayce huffs at you and looks to Viktor, "And you?" Viktor purses his lips and looks to the side, "Too often."

"Viktor!"

"What? Leave me alone."

You giggle at them, "You can't say anything Jayce. You've pulled all-nighters too. I've seen you stay too late at the lab and bring home paperwork from the council home."

Jayce sputters as the two of you giggle at him. His fond look gives away him fake irritation.

"You should sleep, love. Honestly pulling all-nighters is bad for your health."

"And you're a hypocrite Viktor. Pass me the coffee pot, I'm staying up for as long as I can."

Viktor sighs and complies to your demand. It's true, he is a bit hypocritical.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The delirium has set in. Everything is making you three giggle, how Jayce's hammer sounds as he works on a prototype, how Viktor's accent swirls his words due to his exhaustion, looking at each other for too long.

The lab is full of snorts, cackling laughter, and wheezing.

You look at the clock and see it's almost three in the morning, "Ok, I'd say it's bedtime now. We'll probably wake up at around nine or ten in the morning and we'll be able to go to sleep properly later today."

Both Viktor and Jayce whine, wanting to stay up longer. You shut the shit down.

"Nope! Nuh-uh, bed time for all of us, c'mon."

They listen to you, complaining the whole time, but the minute you all lay in the lab's futon, they almost pass out insatntly.

You're smack dab in the middle. You're essentially laying on top of Jayce and Viktor is on top of you. You hear Jayce's heartbeat as you card your finger's through Viktor's hair.

You sigh in content, this is gonna be the best sleep of your life, you can feel it.

It's great being a teddy bear.

Having a delirious laughing attack would be great with them. Like when you’re laughing with a friend in class and you just can’t stop 😭😭 I miss that so much bro

[lynnieverse]

undertow // collision

Rafe Cameron/OG Female Character

✰ first chapter!

✰ 3.8k words

✰ chapter song -> control by halsey

✰ tags: morally grey, one-sided rivalry, mystery, mutual pining, tension, redemption

✰ a/n: this is the first chapter of my fic I’ve been writing…let me know if you like it and want more!! thank you :)

Going back to Figure Eight was the absolute last thing Lennox Thornton wanted to do. She had escaped it for roughly three years, and now that she was back...she was less than enthused. Dragging all her bags up the driveway, she braced herself for seeing her family again.

The large white door of her parent's house swung open, revealing her beaming mother. Lennox was immediately engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, taking in a sharp breath upon impact.

"Lennox! You're home!" she gushed, pulling back slightly to get a good look at her daughter. Lennox noticed her lack of makeup, glasses, and blonde hair twisted up into a bun. That, along with the navy scrubs her mother was sporting, told her it was an in-office day at her practice.

"Hey, Mom," she smiled. "Gotta work today?" she was still holding on to her, like she was afraid she'd disappear.

"Unfortunately, yes. I have to head out right now actually, but I wanted to be home when you got here." Lennox smiled fondly at that; she loved her mom. If there was one thing she hated about moving away for college, it was the distance.

They both shuffled inside and Lennox took a look around, noticing more unfamiliar decor than when she was there last.

"Looks great in here." Lennox commented, earning a happy gasp from her mom.

"Thank you! I was trying something new." They chatted for a few more minutes before her mom made a face, seeming to remember something. She turned towards the stairs and yelled, "Topper get down here and say hello to your sister!" Turning towards Lennox, she went on to say, "He was taking a nap and told me to wake him up when you got home." Lennox nodded in understanding, shifting the bag on her shoulder uncomfortably.

Footsteps pounded against the floor above them and down the stairs; suddenly she was on the floor. Her bags splayed out around her as she tried to squirm out from under him.

"Topper!" She groaned, pinned to the ground. Their mom laughed and shook her head, ignoring her only daughter clearly dying in front of her.

"Alright you two, I've got to run, don't kill each other please!" she said before speed walking out of the house, Topper still crushing her on the floor.

"Hey, sis! How's it going?"

"It'd be a lot better if your fat ass wasn't on top of me," she groaned, definitely feeling bruises start to form. He laughed and jumped up, offering her a hand. As she steadied herself, and collected everything off the floor, Topper was practically bursting at the seams to tell her something.

"You ready for tonight?" he asked, clearly excited.

"What's tonight?" Lennox asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

"You. Me. Party." She internally groaned; this boy partied like it was his life support.

"Uh, no. I just got here, I'm exhausted."

"Oh come on! You've been gone for forever, and we can finally go out. Please?" He looked at her with puppy dog eyes, the ones he knew she couldn't resist. Lennox huffed and rubbed a hand down her face.

"Fine. But I probably won't stay long." Topper pumped his hand in the air in victory.

"Yes! I don't even care, we're going to have so much fun." Lennox chuckled, he was so goofy.

"Grab one of these and come on," she gestured to the bags surrounding them. Topper, for once, didn't even pull a face. He just did what she said willingly; it was every big sister's dream. He must have really wanted her at that party. She watched him carry her stuff up the stairs with ease, a brief moment of sadness hitting her at how grown up he was.

She hadn't been the best at coming home for the holidays recently, and he'd really shot up in the past couple of years. He actually looked like a man...gross.

They finally made it to her door, and he haphazardly threw everything on her bed. Lennox rolled her eyes, but followed suit, then collapsed on the ground dramatically. In her defense, there were a lot of stairs.

"Alright I guess I have to get ready for this party then...who's hosting?" she called up at him, squinting her eyes against the light. Topper scrunched his eyebrows.

"I actually have no idea, let me go figure that out!" Lennox snorted as he ran away, probably texting all his friends. She forced herself to sit up, looking around at all her luggage. She shouldn't have really been surprised, she had packed it all, but having to face it was a different story. She let herself have one breath before she got to work, the next hour a blur of hangers and storage bins. When she finally felt accomplished enough to move on, she got to work on her makeup, hair, and outfit for the party.

She was just finishing slipping on her shoes when Topper once again appeared in her doorway. This time he had donned a button down shirt and khaki shorts–the standard uniform for OBX. She grabbed her bag and stood in front of him expectantly.

"Ready?" he asked absentmindedly, typing something out on his phone. She hit the back of his hand, making him juggle the device before catching it.

He glared at her. "What was that for?"

"Get off your phone and be present, Topper," she scolded. He looked at her in disbelief, slowly sliding the phone into his pocket.

"Did you just go all 'Mom mode' on me?" he asked, voice rising in pitch. Lennox shrugged, shoving past him.

"Yep, now let's go." Still confused, Topper followed her to his Jeep, unlocking it quickly before they both hopped in. Lennox smoothed down her white dress and sat quietly as Topper peeled out of their driveway. The drive was mostly filled with music, until the route started to feel very familiar.

"Why are we driving towards the Cameron's house?" Lennox turned towards him slowly in her seat. Topper flinched slightly, guilt seeping into his expression.

"About that..."

"Nope, take me home." Lennox crossed her arms, shaking her head back and forth.

"Len, please."

"No, Topper! I refuse to step foot in the same room as him. I won't do it."

"Then I'll make sure he stays away. Please? It would mean a lot to me if you came," he glanced over to her, hopeful. She thought about it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. She could let loose, have some fun with her brother, but she could also run into him.

Not wanting to rain on his parade, she conceded. "Fine. But you better keep him away."

"I will, I promise!"

Topper did not keep him away. Topper disappeared as soon as they entered the house. Topper was going to die tonight.

The Cameron's house was crowded to say the least. Lennox had bumped into countless amounts of people, and although she was tucked in a corner, she was no less than an arms length away from someone at all times. She had decided upon nursing her beer by herself, seeing as there were almost nobody she was friendly with there. Instead, she entertained herself with people watching.

Everyone was stumbling around, drinks sloshing out of their cups, or dancing to the loud pop music coming out of the speakers in the corner. Some couples were making out on the couches, and there was a beer pong table set up in the next room over, which she could see through the doorway. It was entertaining to say the least.

The only thing off about it was the heavy cloud that had been hovering over her all night. She hadn't seen him yet, but it was like she could feel his presence, suffocating her almost as much as the thick air. It was the anticipation that gave her goosebumps, knowing that at some point, he would have to make himself known.

"Princess! Funny catching you here." The deep voice came from her right side. Lennox cursed, closing her eyes briefly to collect herself. She should have known, speak of the Devil and he will appear. Lennox groaned and turned, narrowing her eyes at none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Fuck off, Rafe." He moved closer, towering over her with a much larger frame than when she left. Her heart rate stuttered as she looked up at him. He was wearing a white polo shirt and shorts, his hair was buzzed, and he was smiling at her wolfishly.

"Can't talk to me like that anymore, Princess. Haven't you heard? I'm crazy." He moved his finger in a circle by his head and rolled his eyes with a smirk, taking a sip from the solo cup in his hand. Lennox actually had heard of his behavior recently. It was one of the many things that worried her about Topper hanging out with him.

"I can talk to you however I want. You're all bark." Rafe snickered and looked away briefly before suddenly pushing up against her. The breath left her lungs as she felt his toned chest pressed to hers. His cologne filled her nose—clean and woody.

What was he doing?

His head lowered to her height, breath tickling her ear.

"That's what you think," he whispered, sending shivers down her spine. He gave her a once over before pushing off the wall, finally drifting back into the crowd. The interaction left her feeling exposed and alone, suddenly aware of every part of her body. He had always had a way of doing that to her–catching her off guard.

Lennox had disliked Rafe for as long as she could remember. There was no specific incident, not really, but she hated the way he treated people.

Nobody really remembered, but it was Rafe who started all the hatred between the Kooks and the Pogues. Sure, there had always been some tension, but it rarely ever went farther than some choice words. She remembered how he'd gone home the summer after fifth grade, a perfectly nice kid, but when he came back he had changed completely. He started influencing others to follow him, picking fights with kids from The Cut. Everyone listened to him because of his name. Lennox never bought into all that bullshit, and she'd always been better friends with the Pogues anyhow. That's when her beef with Rafe started, and she clearly still held a grudge.

Knowing her position had been compromised, Lennox decided to move outside, finding an unoccupied bench by the pool house. The humid air did nothing to help the stickiness of her skin, but she relished the faint breeze. Lennox's head fell to her hands, the alcohol flowing from her feet to her fingertips.

"Rough night?" a deep voice called from a few feet away. Lennox forced herself to look up, seeing a silhouette backlit in the yard. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Whoever it was, they were walking closer.

"Uh, you could say that I guess." The mystery guy sat down on the bench, and Lennox straightened, suddenly much more aware.

"You don't remember me?" She nervously racked her brain, trying to place the voice; it was only when they locked eyes a breath of relief escaped her.

"Oh my God, little Rutledge, what're you doing here?" John B smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

"We're kind of crashing; Kie's parents made her come." Lennox laughed, of course they were. She marvelled at how grown he looked––a little worn, sure, but he looked good.

John B and the others held a special place in her heart. She was four years older than the group, but she babysat Pope when he was younger, and the rest fell in line. Of course, Sarah, she grew up with. She just couldn't believe they were all adults now.

"What're you up to now, any more treasure hunts planned?" John B laughed, a deep rumbling laugh she'd have to get used to. Topper had filled her in on a lot of the OBX drama via phone call while she was away, but she still had a hard time believing it.

"Definitely not. You didn't hear? I'm going to be a father." Lennox gasped, her eyes widening. John B, a dad? Was he not still a teenager?

"Oh wow, congratulations...who else knows?"

"Pretty much everyone. The group found out on our last...adventure," he shot her a look. "and Rafe was surprisingly cool." Lennox rolled her eyes at the mention of Sarah's brother. John B noticed immediately, snickering. "Still have it in for him, huh?"

"He's a dick. I don't like dicks." John B cackled. "You know what I mean!" she shouted before dissolving into her own fit of giggles.

"Well, that's no reason to isolate yourself from the party. Come hang with us, I know JJ would love to see you." He made kissy noises and dragged her to her feet.

"Oh please, I'm sure he's over his school girl crush by now."

"He is, him and Kie are going strong, actually." She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"Unexpected, but hell yeah." They both head back inside, into the living room where the Pogues were occupying the sofas.

"Lenny?" JJ called, jumping up from where he was sitting. The other heads snapped in her direction, while she stood and awkwardly waved.

"The prodigal daughter returns!" JJ shouted, running over quickly to wrap her in a bear hug. She grunted in surprise at the force, but wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey, JJ, I missed you," she smiled from ear to ear. As he stepped back, Lennox noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. She glanced over to Kie who just rolled her eyes.

"JJ, get back over here," she shouted, but there was no anger in her tone, only fondness.

Lennox chuckled and took a seat next to Pope.

"Hey kid, how've you been?" Pope playfully rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for their not-so-secret handshake.

"Not a kid anymore, Lenny."

"Yeah yeah, sure P," she said, noticing an unfamiliar face on his other side. She had long braids and a lost look on her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't think we've met!" she said, offering her hand. The girl shook it, smiling at her politely.

"I'm Cleo, nice to meet you." She had an accent, but Lennox couldn't place it.

"Nice to meet you too! How'd you get stuck with these goofballs?" Cleo looked down at her lap, chuckling softly.

"Saved their asses a few times." There were protests throughout the group, everyone starting to argue about who actually saved who. Lennox watched, laughing along with them.

"It's good to see y'all again, been too long," She said after everyone had gone quiet.

"What brings you back?" Kie asked, leaning against JJ. He tucked her into his side, kissing the top of her head. Lennox hesitated with her answer, not sure how to.

"Well, I graduated, so I'm officially ready to start taking over Dad's company." That had been the plan since she was an infant. Go to college, major in business, then integrate herself into Thornton Real Estate. Topper was meant to go to medical school, like their mother.

"That's awesome Len, are you excited?" Sarah asked, leaning forward to grab her hand. She was already glowing, and Lennox felt a burst of happiness for her friend.

"Yeah, of course!" she nodded, squeezing her friend's hand. Who wouldn't be, right?

The night progressed with endless chatter and the occasional drinking game, leaving Lennox very intoxicated and very happy. She had just finished telling each individual around her how much she loved them when her brother made his entrance.

"Lennox, what're you doing hanging out with the trash?" She rolled her eyes. Stupid Figure Eight boys and their stupid rivalry.

"Dude, just go back to the party," John B said, looking over Topper's shit already. She silently wondered everything that had gone down between them, knowing she didn't hear the full story from her brother.

"Why? 'Cause you said so? Nah, I'll pass." Lennox saw his eyes drift over to Sarah, a look of sadness in his eyes. But as soon as she noticed, it was gone, replaced by a cruel smirk.

Before John B could reply, she interjected. "Top, please. Not tonight. You're quite literally killing my buzz." Topper gave her a look, one she didn't catch due to her head spinning.

Despite her drunken state, she still saw Rafe lurking behind him and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm headed home anyway, let's go." Topper responded, clearly annoyed and obviously more drunk than she was.

"Absolutely not, neither of us can drive," she looked around quickly, trying to find anyone sober. All the Pogues had a beer in their hand except for Sarah, and she wasn't about to drag her away.

"I'll give you a ride, Princess." He was smug, arms crossed as he peered down at her.

"No," she spit, refusing to even look in Rafe's direction.

"Nobody else here is sober. I'm driving you home." Lennox opened her mouth to argue, but he was already walking away, dragging Topper behind him. She threw her hands up and stomped after them, throwing a quick goodbye over her shoulder.

"Rafe!" She called, trying to catch up. She must have screamed his name throughout the entire house before he finally turned around outside.

"Lennox. Will you stop being so goddamn stubborn for once in your life and get in the car?" Rafe said through gritted teeth. His jaw was set as he supported Topper's entire weight on his left side. Someone clearly decided to pass out as soon as he got outside. She huffed, but did as she was told, sliding into the passenger seat of his black Jeep. He wrestled Topper into the back, giving him a random takeout bag to hold onto, and jumped in the driver's side.

"I didn't think that would actually work," he said in disbelief, glancing at her. He shuffled some things around before twisting the key in the ignition.

"I'm nicer when I'm drunk. Listen better." She was starting to lose some of her cognitive thinking, because certainly she had not gotten in a vehicle with Rafe Cameron at the wheel. He gave her a once over before putting the car in drive and carefully exiting the neighborhood.

He was being nice. Well maybe not nice, but considerate, driving her drunk ass home.

No, Lennox, he is a bad person. He's doing this for Top, not you. He is an asshole.

She chanted those words inside her head, over and over, needing the reminder. Suddenly all thoughts of Rafe and his past transgressions started to flood her brain.

That time he humiliated JJ on the beach, bringing up his father and the new bruises JJ was sporting. How he used to pick on Topper, and now ropes him into all sorts of dangerous things. Every argument they had, every time he called her "Princess", it all bubbled up under her skin.

"You going to stop staring a hole into my head?" Rafe quipped.

"You are such an asshole," she narrowed her eyes, turning to face him.

"Why, for driving you home? I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of asshole territory."

"Not now, although I'm sure there's some ulterior motive, I'm talking about always." Rafe's jaw ticked and he shifted in his seat.

"You know what your problem is?" she slurred, her voice thick.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Lennox let out a sharp laugh, her head falling back against the seat. "You don't care about anyone. Like, at all. Not a single damn person." Rafe snorted, his gaze locked on the road.

"Is this supposed to be some drunken therapy session? If so, I'm not interested, Princess."

"No seriously," she sat up straighter, her words spilling out faster than she could think. "You think you're untouchable, so above everyone else, but you're not. You're miserable, and you make everyone else around you miserable."

"What the fuck did I do this time?"

"What haven't you done? You torment those poor kids! John B, JJ, Pope...even Kie! And for what?" Rafe scoffed, shaking his head.

"They're no saints, either. Maybanks held a fucking gun to your brother's head! You don't even know them." She didn't know about that; conveniently Topper left that out of their weekly phone calls.

"I don't have to know them," she shot back. "I see the way you treat people. The way all the Kooks treat people. They're just trying to survive on this shitty island, and you torture them for it! You're telling me you really had to almost beat Pope to death over a fucking boat?" Rafe looked surprised. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you? What is wrong with you?" Lennox was on a roll now, furious at the man beside her.

Rafe's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. She kept going, her words tumbling out in a drunken blur.

"You drag Topper into your shit every single chance you get. He's supposed to be going to med school, not fucking around and taking the fall for you. And you don't even care what it's doing to him—or anyone."

"Alright Lennox, that's enough. You don't know what you're talking about," he growled, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. They swerve a bit, but he quickly corrects it. "You've been gone a long time, don't act like you know shit."

"Oh, don't I?" she shot back, her voice breaking slightly. "I've watched you ruin people, Rafe. You're reckless and selfish and cruel. You don't care about what it does to Topper, or Sarah, or—God, anyone who's stupid enough to get close to you." Her voice trailed off, and she turned to look out of the window. A flicker of regret flashed across his face.

"You're a black hole, Rafe. You suck the life out of everyone around you." Her breath fogged up the glass.

The car fell into silence, save for the low rumble of the engine. Rafe didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Or maybe he just didn't care.

Lennox let out a humorless laugh, leaning her head back against the window. "You know what? Forget it. I don't even know why I'm wasting my breath. Why do I even bother?" She crossed her arms and ignored him for the rest of the ride.

When they did arrive, she let him deal with Topper, immediately making a beeline for her room. She flopped on her bed, not bothering to undress and drifted off to sleep, leaving the most infuriating man she'd ever met behind.

[dcdreamblog]

I have a couple of questions for Uncle Sam,

Did you know General Gloryvand if you did how much of his comic book was accurate recounting of events?

Are you familiar with the super team The Force of July? They were created by a corrupt US politician and they're controversial enough I'm almost hesitant to call them superheroes. Some people think they were willing collaborators with their boss. Others think their ideology left them blind to actual reasons for his actions

US: Glory was the sad result of the US government trying to have a mystery man of their own they could keep under wraps. Me: We recently talked on my blog about something along similar lines with the Creature Commandos US: Something like that, yes. The rift between the US Government establishment and the Squadron was always larger than we let on to the public Me: Hoover specifically went to his grave frustrated on his total inability to dig up dirt on any of you. US: It was an understanding we had as comrades. We all trusted on another to the hilt, even if we never spoke as individuals. If you were Squadron, it made you blood, no questions asked. Me: No wonder they kept Glory under the radar US: Same reason they kept all their other "enhanced assets" under our radar. The moment we would have found out, we would have planted our feet and placed them under Squadron protection. As it was, Glory ended up getting batted around at the whims of the military command structure. Me: His missions were rather less...glorious than his comic books made them seem, from what I've read. US: It was a lot of skulking about on the western front, giving the hotfoot to nazi administration in France or the Low Countries. A lot of snapping necks in the dark. Me: Not exactly banner material US: And then after the war they all but brainwashed him and tossed him to the wolves. By the time he remembered who he was he was so jumbled in the head all he could do was make speeches. Me: He died of a heart attack not long after his reawakening US: Not many of us mystery men had the luck to be born immortal

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

US: I...recognize that the young men and women who called themselves the Force of July BELIEVED they were doing good. Me: Wow, I have seen cannons less loaded than that sentence. US: They operated under a spook organization called the American Security Agency. Me: One of those black cape organizations US: You could say it again, yes. The ASA was one of many secret projects meant to create superhuman agents under government control. Their motives were, as with any such group, ultimately jackbooted. Me: They wanted to launch a satellite into space that could spy on people's homes through their TV screens. They straight up called it Project Orwell US: Which was made by government agents ultimately above the Force of July's heads. That being said their unwillingness to question the motives of their handlers is a red flag by itself. Me: When they were directed against an outfit like the original Outsiders... US: That clinched it for all time in my mind Me: Oh yea? US: It's like I was saying before, an understanding in the community. If you're one of us, you get the benefit of the doubt. There's some layers of separation between me and them but I vouch for them on principle unless I know something untoward is going on. Me: Only some layers? US: Founded by Batman, Batman trained under Wildcat, I served with Wildcat. Me: Wow...Batman trained under Wildcat? US: *shrugs* Neither here nor there. Either way, the Force of July was a lot of very easily misled young people being sent out to do damage for an American establishment masquerading as an American ideal Me: Should have joined the military in that case US: No comment.

[meltedhorror]

I always hoped we'd rot together, that the day the earth reclaimed my bones it'd be by the side of you. . . Maybe if I close my eyes and believe enough, it'll come true eventually. . .

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

Ok real talk, looking for advice from other DnD’ers... at what point do you just nuke your character?

Rant/more info in tags.

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[fdragon-art]

Day 131 - Map Madness

"...how the hell should I make this look??"

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[httpsleclerc]

the story of us - chapter 2

pairings: Max Verstappen x Sister!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Single Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Platonic Kelly Piquet x Verstappen!Reader

summary: Charles and Verstappen!Reader meet for the first time as adults with a little plus one. 

warnings: pregnancy, controlling behaviour from a partner, baby trapping

w/c: 3.4k words

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love on the first part of this series it really means a lot to me! As always, I'm always open to feedback and reblogs! Thank you all for the support again!

my masterlist // series masterlist

The air felt thick and suffocating around you, your shaking hands reaching out to take a hold of the small pink stick which sat on the bathroom counter. You swallowed the lump of fear in your throat, turning the plastic stick around, your breath caught in your throat.

The two pink lines stared back at you glaringly, unwavering and strong.

You were pregnant.

Tears sprung to your eyes, you didn't know whether to be excited or scared - Sure, you were going to have a baby and become a mom, but you were still young, you were only 22 and you knew that your relationship with Lukas was far from healthy and stable.

"What are you doing in there?" You heard him ask through the door, making you jump, yet holding on tightly to the proof of the little life growing inside of you. "Y/N." You pulled yourself together, hoping that he couldn't see the conflict within you.

"Lukas, I'm pregnant," You had gotten your bluntness from your brother, in one sense. You studied his face for any semblance of a reaction, one thing, you had claimed you gained from your abusive childhood, was your emotional intelligence. You watched as his face lit up, slowly racing to gently place his hand on the still flat surface of your stomach.

"Really? That's...that's great, love," He told you, a grin on his face.

He wasn't grinning about the prospect of becoming a father, he was grinning over the fact that he had you in the palm of his hand.  He had been working you up to this, switching out your birth control pills for placebos, timing your cycle perfectly, making sure that he had you trapped. He knew that you had a traumatic childhood and that you would be eager to raise your own family completely differently from how you had been.

"Really? You don't think that it's too soon?" You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. He smiled down at you, swiping the tears away from your face as they slowly fell.

"Not at all, my love, you're ready for this, you're going to be such a good mum," He soothed you, pulling you in tight and holding you to his chest as he rubbed your back. "Our baby's going to be so lucky." You nodded, smiling up at him as you realised that maybe this was Lukas changing, maybe you having his baby was all that he needed to stop being so cruel to you.

Now, you just had to tell your brother. If Lukas let you.

"...Lukas?" You sat across from him on the couch, nervously trying to read his expression as he hummed in response. "Um...when can we tell Max I'm pregnant?" His eyes flicked up to yours, but softened as he saw you rubbing circles on your growing stomach.

"...Whenever you want, when is he back in Monaco, we could make a day of it," He suggested, giving you a soothing smile. He knew this would show your older brother that you were his now, bonded together by the life inside of you. You smiled, getting up from your spot on the sofa to curl up as best as you could beside Lukas, smiling as he placed his hand on your small bump. "She's kicking now?" You giggled as you nodded, feeling the baby, who you had recently had revealed to be a girl, kicked against her father's touch.

"Yeah, I think she knows our voices now," You smiled, placing your hands over his. "I can't believe she's this big already." Lukas smiled, knowing that now he had you exactly where he wanted you - He'd given you a baby, after this you'd have his last name and maybe another baby to keep you trapped.

"Well, she's gonna get bigger," He gently nudged you, making you giggle. "I'll call Max and arrange something, okay?" You nodded and smiled contentedly, Lukas knew that you wouldn't be questioning anything right now, your hormones and baby brain had made you almost dependent on him for everything.

Lukas had arranged to meet with Max at a little restaurant in Monte Carlo, he had taken you to it a couple times for a date, since it appeared that their pizza was the only one made with something that didn't make you throw up.

Max, couldn't wait to see you. It had been months, and he was certain that you were leaving Lukas, saying that you couldn't take how controlling he was anymore - So to hear Lukas calling him and saying that you wanted to see him, Max let his excitement blind him. 

However

As he saw you walk into the restaurant, Lukas following behind you, he couldn't be blind to the small bump on your midsection. He froze, swallowing the lump in his throat while trying to act casual. So this was why you were still with him, he had gotten you pregnant.

"Hi Max," Your grin was wide as you saw your older brother stand on his feet, embracing you tightly, but not too tight as to hurt the baby. "So...surprise, you're gonna be an uncle!" You cheered excitedly, watching as Max grinned and kiss your cheek. You were too excited  for him to tell you how he was really feeling about it, so he played along with you.

"That's great, kleine zusje, I'm so happy for you," Max said, giving Lukas a knowing look as he came up behind you, placing his hand on the small of your back. Lukas pulled a chair out for you to sit across from your brother, but beside him. You always had to be beside him. "So, do you know what you're having?" You smiled and nodded, protectively placing a hand on your stomach.

"A girl, we're gonna name her Romy."

Max made sure that Lukas would be home when he went to collect yours and Romy's belongings. He needed to make sure that he knew that neither you or your daughter needed anything from him anymore, that even if it meant that the two of you had to live with him until you got on your feet, then that would be it - You and Romy didn't need him anymore. Knocking on the door of your old apartment, Max stood, his jaw and fists clenched.

"What do you want?" Lukas answered the door, freezing upon seeing your older brother standing at the door. "Didn't Y/N tell you what I told her? I don't want her or the baby back, she can get her child payment but that's it. I'm done with her." He harshly told Max. Max scoffed ash he shook his head - The audacity of him to think that Max would ever let you go back to him.

"I know that, I just came to tell you that if I ever, ever  see you around Y/N or Romy again, then I'll personally make sure that you never see again. You never deserved either of them." Max responded, fully meaning his threat - He wasn't known as Mad Max for nothing. Lukas just shook his head in response, laughing at Max.

"You can play the protective big brother role all you want, Max, but I know how dependent Y/N was on me for the past 3 years. I gave her everything she wanted, I gave her that stupid baby, and she threw it all back in my face." Max stormed in, grabbing Lukas by the collar and holding him up against the wall.

"You shut the fuck up. You trapped her because you knew that she was going to leave you, you needed her more than she needed you and you know that. How little of a man are you that you would call your daughter stupid? Like I said, you never deserved either of them." Max shoved him once more before leaving, ready to get all of yours and Romy's stuff and taking it back to his apartment. He meant what he said - And if it meant that if you and your daughter had to stay with him for a while as you got on your feet again, then that would be fine. Max loved Romy, and if it meant that he could spend time with her on the breaks and off season while you worked, then that would be fine.

Romy giggled as you groaned, kicking her feet up at you as you tried to place the pink socks over her little feet. You were already late to meet Max's friend, and your daughter's insistence on not putting her socks on was making you later.

"Romy, my love, if you don't let mama put your socks on then you have to wear your crocs," You spoke mainly to yourself, you didn't think your 7 month old baby would be able to comprehend such a sentence, but she heard the words socks and crocs and immediately felt excitement, already kicking her little legs at the prospect of her favourite shoes. "Oh, so you want to wear your crocs. I wish you could talk already, Romy bear, it would make mama's life so much easier," You spoke, digging around the small bag you had packed to look for her small crocs. Finally, you found them, quickly slipping them over her small feet, grabbing a diaper bag quickly to slip over your shoulder, and picking Romy up, holding her at your hip as you hurriedly left Max's apartment.

You quickly buckled her into her car seat, making sure she was secure before hurriedly making your way to the cafe where Max had told you to meet Charles.  You weren't sure what your older brother was thinking about, was he setting you up with the Monegasque, or was he just trying to get you out to socialise? You weren't sure if you were ready to be in another relationship yet, 3 years with Lukas had taken their toll on you and now you just wanted to spend some time with your baby. The cafe was quiet, tucked away from the busyness of Monte Carlo as not to overwhelm you on what could have been your first time out being social with Romy. You pulled into a parking space, quickly jumping out of your car and lifting your daughter out of her car seat, holding her tight at your hip as you hurriedly made your way inside.

You spotted Charles quickly, smiling at him as he spotted you. He hadn't changed much from what you remembered, but then again, you had blocked out most of your childhood - Those weren't things that you wanted to remember. Then again, you had seen him only 8 months ago, just before you gave birth to Romy; However, it pained you when you realised that the first 6 months of your daughter's life had been a blur, you were simply focused on keeping the two of you alive and away from the harm that her father could cause to either of you.

"Hi," You greeted him, smiling as he stood up to gently embrace you, kissing both of your cheeks. "Sorry that I'm late, someone didn't want to wear socks so we had to go with crocs with her pretty pink dress." You smiled once more, tickling Romy's stomach. Charles smiled at her and then at you - From what he had heard from Max recently, he didn't understand how you could still smile, life had dealt you the cruelest of cards, yet here you were, smiling away with your baby in your arms.

"It's alright, I brought a high chair over for her," He gestured to the seat which sat at the side of the two for you and him, making you smile at his thoughtfulness. "I know it is probably a silly question, but how are you doing?" He asked, watching as you placed Romy in the high chair, strapping her in so she couldn't wiggle out and hurt herself.

"Um...I don't really know, I've just sort of been on autopilot for a bit, I'm just relieved to be gone from him, for both of us," You told him, feeling weight coming off of your shoulders - You had spent the past hours telling Max that you were fine, you didn't want to worry your older brother anymore than you already had for most of your life. "How are you after the breakup?" Charles shrugged but smiled sadly.

"Fine, it had to happen - We weren't good for each other anymore," Charles felt like he was almost rubbing salt in your wound, bragging about how easy it was for him to leave an unhealthy relationship while you were stuck in one for years. "But anyway, would you like a drink? Tea or coffee?" He offered you, standing to head to the counter.

"Just tea please," You smiled, watching as Charles made his way to the counter to order for you and himself. He came back soon enough, with two pastries on the side. "What's this?" You asked him, tilting your head as you poured the milk into your tea. 

"Oh, Max told me that it was your favourite like...forever ago, I didn't know what else to get you, I thought that Romy might like it too," He smiled at you and the Romy, who grinned at Charles and reached for him. "What do you want little one? Tell Cha," He spoke to her so naturally, it made you smile.

"I think that she wants a cuddle, Charles," You smiled at him, watching as he blushed. "You've held a baby before, yes? But you don't have to if you don't want to, no pressure," You said, unstrapping Romy from the high chair and holding you in her arms. She continued to fuss and reach for the Monegasque, whimpering in your arms as she reached out for him. "Shhh, just calm down my little love." You soothed her, looking to Charles to silently ask him whether he wanted to hold your daughter or not.

"Yes, of course, I'll hold her," Charles reached out to hold her in his arms, and you watched in amazement as Romy immediately settled into Charles' arms - She had only ever settled for you, on occasion Max; not even for Lukas, not that he had ever taken anything to do with his daughter. "She's so cute, Y/N. Looks so much like her mama," He whispered the last part, thinking you hadn't heard - The blush on your cheeks proved otherwise.

"I'm just shocked that she settled down for you, she's a little bit fussy with who she likes to hold her," You smiled, Charles was a natural with Romy, holding her on his lap. He smiled back at you, gently bouncing her on his knee, the two of you laughing at she giggled. "She must really like you, Charles." You told him, seeing a gentle blush creep across his face.

"Well, I really like Romy too," He said, both to you and to the baby on his lap.

The two of you chatted together, recounting the more happier memories you had of him from your childhood, and how you had missed seeing him around the paddock but looked forward to seeing him more now you were living with Max.

He told you how he was looking forward to seeing you and Romy around the paddock. "I'd love to spend more time with the two of you" Charles told you, making you stutter over your words. "I'm sorry, that might have been a bit too upfront," He said, looking away from you as he rubbed small circles on Romy's back.

"No, no, it's not that, I um...I'd like to do this again, it's been really nice, Charles." You told him, a grateful smile on your face as you appreciated the company of the Monegasque. "I should probably get going, Max is going to wonder where we are." He nodded, frowning as Romy whimpered at the loss of his contact, but smiling as he saw her contentedly cuddle into you.

"Of course, mon cher. Please let me know when you get home," You nodded and smiled, the two of you leaving the small cafe. Charles came to your car with you, watching as you strapped Romy into her carseat.

"Of course, thank you so much for this Charles, I really enjoyed it," You quietly closed the rear door, hoping not to disturb your daughter.

"Me too, I hope to see the two of you again soon."

Carrying your sleeping daughter in your arms, you made your way into Max and Kelly's apartment, the two of them waiting on the couch to hear about how your day with Charles had gone.

"I'll tell you two how it went after I feed her, I promise, she screamed the entire way home," You told them hurriedly, carrying a sniffling Romy into the room which was slowly resembling something that could look like yours. Max and Kelly had spent the afternoon trying their best to make it as personal for you as possible as a way to try and make you feel like this was a safe place for you and Romy. You got comfy on the bed, taking your shirt off and slipping down your bra, sighing in relief as she latched onto you - You had bottle fed her while out with Charles, you had been too nervous to feed her out in public, especially with Charles there.

It was strange, it felt like a way to decompress - A way to focus on something else other than the thoughts of Charles running through your head. The thoughts of how naturally he held Romy and how he spoke to her, thoughts of how when you were buckling her into the car seat, his hand rested gently on the small of your back. Thoughts of how he looked at you so intently. You switched Romy around, letting her feed until she fell asleep, comfortable against your chest. Gently, you lifted her off of you, clasping your bra and putting your shirt back on, laying her down in her next to me bed. You sighed, running your fingers gently down her face and smiling, watching your daughter sleep peacefully.

You closed the door quietly as you made your way out to the living room, sitting yourself between Kelly and Max, the older woman putting her arm around you - You knew that Kelly had a soft spot for you, and especially for Romy; she was forever telling you how much of a great mother you were, especially now since you were on your own - she knew that feeling all too well.

"So, how did it go?" Max asked you, a grin on his face as he watched you lean against Kelly - He was glad that the two of you had gotten along. You smiled as you recounted your afternoon with Charles.

"It went really well, we just talked for a bit and he held Romy for a bit too because she was getting fussy - He's so good with her," You cited, a smile on your face. Kelly gave Max a knowing look, your experience sounded a lot like how she felt taking Penelope to meet Max for the first time. "I think we're gonna do it again." Max smiled, after everything you'd gone through, socialising would be good for you - Even if it was with known womaniser Charles Leclerc. But Max knew you'd been through worse than Charles, but Max also knew that Charles knew Max would kill him if he broke your heart.

"That's good, kleine zusje, it sounds like it went well for both of you." You nodded and yawned, it felt like you hadn't stopped since last night and it was all catching up with you now. Max pouted as you curled into Kelly, you'd come in with your baby and stolen his girlfriend! Kelly grinned at Max, gently running her fingers through your hair as you fell asleep.

Now, normally, Max would have told you to run as far from Charles Leclerc as possible - But following Charles' breakup with Alex, he was almost certain that Charles would benefit from a more social relationship rather than jumping from disaster relationship from disaster relationship. He knew that you, generally, just needed a social relationship - Outside of him, Kelly, and your sister Victoria, you didn't really have many friends; thanks to the social isolation put upon you by Lukas.

So maybe, just maybe, you and Charles could be good for each other.

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[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What about the Doors/Pressure shopkeepers trying to pretend they aren't giving their crush special treatment when in groups. Like, special inventory, discreet discounts, all that jazz

Jeff (Doors)

"Oye, I see what you're doin', Jeff. Thought you weren't one for giving out freebies."

*shrug*

"Don't play dumb! I saw you sneak the skeleton key into their bag! Even Bob's a witness!"

No matter what El Goblino says, Jeff will just wave off any accusations of him giving you "special treatment" whenever you stopped by the shop with your group.

While none of them donated to the tip jar, you were the only one who ever did...and even when you came back again and again, it was always you who showed him charity.

The rest of your group would just argue over what to spend their money on, try to rush ahead, mess with his radio, etc. etc.

But you trust Jeff, and he trusts you <3

So you get small discounts on his wares, and despite him not being able to speak, you could tell he's only looking after you.

The goblin jokes about Jeff's little "crush" on you...then he sees the entity's eyes widen and realizes "wait amigo,,I wasn't being serious do you actually like them?????"

He just shoos him away and will deny it to kingdom come, but it is true.

The moment you realized his feelings for you was when Rush attacked the shop once, and you thought you were done for-

When Jeff instinctively pulled you behind the counter and slammed the shutter down, keeping you uncomfortably close (yet somehow you've never felt safer).

When it's all over, he blushes and lets you go free.

You thank him with a small kiss on the forehead(?) and promise to see him again soon.

The next time you get duped by Dupe, or attacked by Eyes, Timothy, Screech, or a snare and need to heal...you discover a few bandaids in your pocket that weren't there previously...

Huh.

Wonder who gave you those?

Sebastian (Pressure)

Normally, Sebastian doesn't care to make personal connections with any of the expendables.

He's just there as their supplier before seeing them off on their journey, hoping they're putting his resources to good use.

But recently he's been seeing you more often, coming by with a new group or by yourself, trying your best to survive long enough to reach him.

Ofc, you've died to stupid things before (or maybe you're just trying to get all the monster documents..in which he's convinced you're some masochist), but you did have the most common sense out of your group and didn't try to annoy him.

The others just waste flash beacon charges on trying to blind the poor guy and stick the keycard in a medkit they couldn't afford...and for what?

Why do your "friends" do that? Are they stupid or something?

You tell them to stop, and it's...actually kinda nice to hear somebody willing to defend him.

People usually don't give a shit about the giant scary fish's feelings, yet for some reason you do.

Of course, Sebastian was reasonably suspicious about it.

"Are you acting this way just to get a freebie?" He assumes. "Because if you are, then you're definitely as stupid as-"

"No, I'd never do that to you." You shake your head. "You're here, helping us survive out there, risking a lot to get us those supplies...is it wrong for me to appreciate that?"

"......"

He goes quiet for a minute, but after the rest of your group leaves, he asks you to stay for a moment.

"You were looking at this Necrobloxicon for a while...you must reeeeally want it, huh?" He grins, flicking his tail where the book was strapped. "It's a rarity."

"I...can't afford that. I'm fine with this dingy flashlight-"

"It's yours for 70% off. Take it or leave it."

You do a double take. "Wait, wha-"

"70% off. Take it. Or leave it." He says through gritted teeth, impatient, only to smile when you accept the deal without further question. "Good. Now don't go telling anyone I'm offering discounts. That's your only one unless I feel generous. Capiche?"

"Gotcha. Thank you, Seb. This means a lot. I hope to see you again soon." You smile back, holding the spooky book tightly, and leave him alone with his thoughts.

And a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest-

Wait.

"Oh no....what the fuck am I doing????? That's it! NO more discounts for anyone, Sebastian!" He scolds himself.

Little does he know, he's gonna keep giving them out, but only for you.

[kooqitas]

#pairing: crush!jungkook x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1100

#synopsis: where jungkook finds out you have a crush on him and well… you end up in his bed

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, a little teasing and a… cute ending?

★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

the story is a bit complicated, so i'll keep it short.

min yoongi is your best friend, you practically grew up together and even though now, because of college, you don't see each other every week, you at least talk on video calls.

and it was on one of those normal video calls that everything happened.

yoongi had recently broken up with his girlfriend, and with that he ended up entering the 'fuckboy phase' where he wanted to have sex with everyone without involving feelings, you listened to him, asked him to just be honest and not hurt anyone, and he agreed, but he also asked how you were, and you ended up telling him that you had a crush on his flatmate, jeon jungkook.

jeon jungkook had moved into yoongi's house a few weeks ago, they lived together with namjoon, taehyung and jimin too, you saw him a few times and even bumped into jungkook at college, but it never went beyond that.

when you told yoongi this, you didn't understand why he was laughing so fucking much... until you saw jungkook frame himself in the camera and laugh at you.

your reaction? turn off the video call, of course. and since then, you haven't seen each other again… at least until tonight.

it was namjoon's birthday, and you were celebrating with pizza, beer, music, and lots of friends. and you were forced to deal with jungkook when you went to the kitchen to get a beer and he came after you

"so, daddy's little princess has a crush on me?"

you just rolled your eyes, trying to ignore jeon jungkook's figure beside you, fuck, he looked so hot in his baggy jeans and black shirt, you wouldn't mind if he fucked you right there on the kitchen counter.

but you wouldn't give him that dose of happiness, so you just mumbled something and left the kitchen, mean, you tried, the next second jungkook's hand was squeezing your waist, and he was so close that you could tell exactly what brand of beer he had drunk minutes ago.

"leaving so soon?" he presses you against the kitchen counter, trapping you.

"what that fuc-"

jungkook leans in closer, his face inches away from yours. "hm? what were you gonna say?"

"what that fuck are you doing, jungkook?" you scream.

"i just wanted to see what you were up to, that's all. can't a guy come check on his friend?"

"i'm not your friend! where's namjoon? i'll find him!"

"what? i was enjoying so fucking much our conversation."

"don't be pathetic" you roll your eyes again.

"watch your mouth!" jungkook's eyes narrow at your comment.

"or what?"

"or i'll teach you some manners." you laughs, and jungkook smirks, his annoyance at your laugh is clearly visible. he looks down at you for a moment before leaning closer.

jungkook grabs your waist, pinning you on the counter again, he pushes himself against you, closing the gap between you. "i'll teaching you a leson."

"j-jungkook..."

"don't call me like that, when you say my name like that... god... i'll break you..." jungkook's body now is pressed firmly against yours.

"so do you have a crush on me too?" you laughs, teasing him.

"don't. fuck. temp me. you're playing with fire."

"well... i like getting burned sometimes."

jungkook kisses you, devouring your mouth completely while his hand roams your body, rubbing his body against yours in a not-so-gentle way, almost laying you down on the table, his wet tongue taking complete control and making you softer and softer to his firm touch.

you don't even know how it happened, but namjoon and yoongi, in the corner of the room, saw you and jungkook go up the stairs towards his room, visibly horny.

jungkook barely locks the bedroom door and throws you on the bed, taking off his own shirt and devouring you again while his cold hand continues to shamelessly pass over your body. he seems a little desperate, but that makes you even more excited, of course!

when you take off your shirt and hike up your skirt to your waist, jungkook seems to stop working for a few seconds.

"what's wrong?" you ask.

"fuck, i… i'm gonna fuck you… fuck, i'm finally gonna fuck you."

"didn't you expect this to happen one day?"

"expect it? no, but i'm so fucking happy it's happening!"

jungkook places the palm of his hand on your pussy, and for a few seconds you feel embarrassed, it's almost pathetic how wet you are and you've barely done anything…

"fuck… all this for me?"

he laughs, lowering his face to fuck you, but you lift him up, grabbing his hair and asking him gently that you want to leave this for later. you touch jungkook's belt, unbuckling it and pulling his pants and underwear down, watching his fat cock jump down.

"i wan-need you inside me. now, jungkook!"

and he obeys, of course he obeys.

the thick cock opening you completely, but you've never felt so full. better yet, you've never felt so full of him.

"do you know how many times i've come imagining you like this? opening yourself up all over my cock? damn, you're so fucking hot!"

jungkook thrusts hard, clearly without any control over his own desire, and you love it, love how it seems like he's going to break you in half without even realizing it, love how it seems like he doesn't care about the creaking of the bed on the floor, love how he doesn't care if everyone down there will know that you two are having sex.

"you're mine. only mine. no one will ever touch you again. only me."

he kisses you, completely messy, one of his hands going up to your chest and playing with your nipples, your legs spreading wider and wider as if that would make him go deeper.

"i'm gonna fill you up so much, i'm gonna make you leak my cum and then i'm gonna cum in your mouth, on your tits, you're gonna sit on my face, i'm gonna make you cum in every way possible."

you grab his arm, screaming when you finally come around his dick, and that makes him come too, the hot liquid inside you making a mess that leaves you dizzy.

jungkook slows down, but still thrusting into you, sticky, wet, hot, and yet you want more, you need more…

"i-i wanna fuck you differently now." you arch your eyebrow, not quite understanding what he means. "i wanna fuck you like my girlfriend, i wanna cum inside my girlfriend and mark her all over"

“fuck, jungkook” is the only thing you can respond.

but he knows that's a yes.

and that's how he keeps fucking you all night long.

[reiderwriter]

505

Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!

Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~

Masterlist || Playlist

Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence. 

Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth. 

You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow. 

He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case. 

He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan. 

He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady. 

You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants. 

‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax. 

Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen. 

He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow. 

“Spencer, fuck…”

Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for. 

He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt. 

You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious. 

He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep. 

Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?

“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”

“What?” 

“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock. 

Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself. 

“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.” 

“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips. 

His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary. 

“You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass. 

It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked. 

When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately. 

“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would. 

“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.” 

You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates. 

“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with. 

“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.” 

Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything. 

Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name. 

Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him. 

Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction. 

Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom. 

It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds. 

With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep. 

When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you. 

But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself. 

At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him. 

You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered. 

He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock. 

“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move. 

“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring. 

His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat. 

“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor. 

“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh. 

He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms. 

“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear. 

You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you. 

“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him. 

“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again. 

You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off. 

It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to. 

“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply. 

“Y/N, please I mean it-” 

“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours. 

He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward. 

He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings. 

After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him. 

“Stroke it.” 

You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid. 

Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his. 

“Spread your legs. Now.” 

You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused. 

“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.

“Y-Yes.” 

“Did you think about me in the shower?” 

“Spencer, I can expl-” 

“Answer me. Please.” 

“Yes.” 

“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.” 

He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest. 

But he wasn't in a giving mood. 

“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor. 

Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet. 

He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down. 

“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view. 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.” 

“You're manipulative, you know that?” 

“I just know what I want, Spencer.” 

“Then come and take it.” 

Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap. 

It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you. 

But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly. 

Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.

You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back. 

He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night. 

His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.

It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him. 

“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer. 

You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it. 

“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again. 

All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world. 

You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you. 

Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.