#THE TEXTURE IT'S SO GOOD. IT FEELS SOS GOOD TO THE EYE

[willowsnook]

Concerned (LN)

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Another late night working and you were exhausted. You’d been on PTO the week before, so now you were playing catch-up and drowning. Trudging back to you apartment, you rounded the corner and ran right into someone else.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” your neighbor said at the same time you started to apologize. You had met him a couple of times, but he was gone a lot, so it was a pretty standard friendly neighbor relationship.

“You look horrible.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes and a weary expression that spoke of sleepless nights. The lines on his forehead deepened as he tried to hide his fatigue, but you couldn't help but notice how drained he looked.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping,” he admitted, and you tilted your head, looking for more, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay, come on,” you said, heading towards your apartment. With a moment's hesitation, he followed behind you into your apartment. The first thing that caught his eye was the unique decor - the walls adorned with scattered pieces of art, each telling its own story. The colors and textures clashed and complemented each other in a chaotic symphony, creating an atmosphere that felt both whimsical and intimate. He couldn't help but feel drawn in, wanting to explore every inch of this quirky space that was a reflection of you.

You sat him down on a barstool in the kitchen before opening a cabinet filled with various powders and ingredients. He watched as you contemplated a bit before picking a couple down and placing them on the counter. Filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, you turned back to him and tried to figure him out.

“You have a lot of ingredients for tea,” he said, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah, I read this book earlier this year about a woman who owned a tea shop and then became fixated on making perfect tea,” you said and he smiled. He felt himself starting to relax around you, appreciative that you hadn’t pushed on why he looked so tired even though he knew you probably had a good idea.

The comfortable silence lasted a couple of more minutes before being interrupted by the high scream of the kettle, and you carefully poured it into a cup that would turn it into your favorite tea invention.

“Let it cool for a couple of minutes,” you told him, and he nodded, picked it up, and moved to the couch. You unpacked your bag from work, looking up occasionally to see him sipping and staring out of your grand windows. Deciding he was probably fine by himself, you went to take a shower and change into your pajamas.

As you emerged from the bedroom 20 minutes later, you spotted the familiar mug sitting on the coffee table, and him sprawled out, fast asleep on the couch. A small smile tugged at your lips as you quietly made your way over to him, careful not to wake him. The soft light filtering through the window cast a gentle glow on his sleeping face. You reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over his body, making sure he was warm and comfortable before retreating back to your room.

The next morning you slept in a little later before coming back out into the kitchen. Lando was still snoring softly on the couch and you kept quiet as you made coffee and pulled out eggs for breakfast. You heard him stir and looked over your shoulder to see him sitting up, yawning. He slipped off the couch and made his way towards you.

“I owe you one,” he said and you waved him off. “You are my favorite neighbor.”

“What an honor,” you joked and he smiled.

“What can I do to repay you?”

You stood thinking for a second before smirking, “Well I’d love it if you could get me Carlos’ autograph; he’s my favorite driver.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together disapprovingly, causing deep lines to form on his forehead. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his reaction before turning back to the skillet of sizzling eggs.

“I’m going to head out now, but again, thank you for last night. I really needed it,” he said, and you turned, surprising him as you hugged him. His embrace was tight but not suffocating, and his arms felt strong and sturdy around you. When he pulled back, you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body slumped slightly.

“You need to take care of yourself,” you said.

“It’s hard,” he replied and you pulled back to see his sad eyes looking back at you. Giving him one last smile, he left you to make breakfast, retreating back to his own place.

———————————————————————

The rest of your weekend went by quickly and you enjoyed the relaxation of not having to think about work. Sunday afternoon, you were deep cleaning your apartment, casually paying attention to the football games you had in the background. After scrubbing your kitchen, you took a break, pulling out your phone and scrolling through Twitter.

Now, you weren’t a big F1 fan; you just tuned in every once in a while mainly because you thought it was cool that you knew a driver, but you’d see tweets on your timeline every once in a while. One caught your attention, and you opened the thread to see some account commenting on a recent stream that Lando had been on with his friends. You watched the video of his friends making fun of him for eating expired food and giggled as they ragged on him.

Thinking back to the other night, you started to actually be concerned about him eating expired food. First of all, it was gross as fuck. Secondly, it could easily make him sick. Having an idea, you grabbed your keys before heading off to the grocery store.

A couple of hours later you were outside Lando’s door, having just knocked on it. He was surprised to see you standing there when he swung open the door.

“I have something for you,” you said, and his eyes flickered down to the bag in your hand before letting you in. Setting it down on the counter, you began pulling out all the Tupperware filled with several different things.

“This should last you until you have to leave again to race,” you said nonchalantly, turning to look at you. He looked at you wide-eyed, taking in what you did for him.

“You made me food?” He asked slowly and you nodded.

“I heard that you were eating expired food, which is disgusting,” you said, and a small smile crossed his face. “That could also kill you, and it would be really irritating to have a bunch of police and noise here to deal with it.”

“Mmmhmm,” he said smirking. “So you did it because you didn’t want to be inconvenienced if I poisoned myself?”

“Exactly,” you told him. “If you were my favorite driver, I would say I was doing it because I care about you and want to make sure you are okay.”

“But I’m not your favorite,” he said and you nodded. “Correct.”

He smiled to himself as you bid him goodbye before heading back.

Later that night he hopped on to stream with Max who instantly asked him what he had for dinner.

“A burrito bowl,” he replied and Max perked up.

“Did you order it?” He asked and Lando shook his head.

“No, my neighbor heard that I was eating expired food so she made me a bunch of meal prepped things to last a couple of weeks.”

“Was it your hot neighbor?” Max asked with a smirk and Lando blushed.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Just so everyone in the chat knows, Lando has been simping over one of his neighbors for almost a year now, and instead of just talking to her like a normal person, he just stalks her on social media and turns into a lovesick school boy anytime he sees her.”

“That’s not true,” he complained and Max laughed.

"Remember when you saw her at the little coffee shop by your place? She chatted with you for what, five minutes? You couldn't stop talking about it for weeks," he teased, savoring the memory of his friend's flustered excitement.

“Shut up mate,” Lando muttered with a slight grin. Little did he know that you had been tuned into the stream, listening to all of this.

pt 2

[biteyoubiteme]

thicc thigh obsessed gyu 😵‍💫 he loves how squishy and plush they are, touches them all the time, rests his head, inner thigh kisses and wearing pretty thigh highs and stockings has him hard and drooling

beomgyu x thighs

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! chubby reader implied, thigh fucking, marking, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.6k

an: okay I want to say I love that you sent me this and it was stuck in my head forever and im just now answering it but omfg- gyu IS A THIGH LOVER I'll take it to the grave/ die on that hill bc YES. and specifically the gyu I wrote in bubblegum flavored- so if you see beomiebear mentioned here thats why bc it’s so him coded pls I love it thank you for this. [m.list]

He would so buy you thigh highs, little sets of garter belts that clip to the top of them. He loves the marks it leaves on your thighs if you’ve been lying down with them on. Likes to snap the bands to make you jump. He loves when you’re in a skirt, and loves it even more when you wear tights, he ruins every pair you’ve ever had and loves to rip them just enough to suck hickeys on your inner thigh. Will take the time to suck them Into the shape of a heart, spending as much time between your legs as possible. Gets you fishnets a size too small, still stretchy enough to feel comfortable but tight enough to let your skin dimple, the marks left after you've taken them off turning him on just as much. 

He loves it when he lays on your plush thighs and you play with his hair. Loves it more when you wear thighs highs when he does it, finger tucked under the elastic, running back and forth. Loves when you sit and it makes a little roll right where the end is, peppers kisses all along the seam. Will use his teeth to pull them down enough to kiss the indents on your skin. 

Insatiable when you casually walk in wearing anything that highlights your thighs. But it’s always the first thing he notices anyway. You could be spending dinner with all your friends and he’s got his hand shoved between your thighs under the table, not necessarily touching you but just resting his hand between your legs for the comfort. 

Gets you specific stockings to wear during sex, the lace lining on top the perfect spot for him to kiss along. The sheer gauzy fabric is just the right texture for him to run his teeth over while he looks up at you from his knees. dons so many kisses to your lower half you have to remind him your mouth exists, pushing his hair back from his eyes, “beomie if you’re good I’ll let you fuck them,” 

and he’s putty in your hands, his weakness so easily exploited when it came to you. Because he loved to push his cock between your plushy thighs. His hands holding your squishy flesh hard enough to leave red hand prints all over. 

Laying you back against the mattress and lifting your legs up, pushed together and slathered with lube, your ankles over his shoulder, arms wrapped around your knees as he pushes his cock in and out between your thighs. 

He’s a whiny mess kissing at your legs, begging for release as you squeeze your legs together for him. You watch the way the tip of cock pokes through the seam of your legs with every thrust. His hair in his eyes as he loses himself, “Oh god- you feel so perfect-“ his fingers digging in harder as he orgasm gets closer, and watching the way you look laid out before him, your body reverberating with every hash slap of him against you. 

He always cums so much when fucking your thighs, the hot streams pulsing out and coating your stomach. cock jerking as he gives lazy thrusts, his whimpers so sweet to your ears as you praise him, “You came so good for me beomiebear, if you clean me up I’ll let you go another round,” and he will comply licking you clean and burying himself between your legs to properly devour your wetness; a reward within this request itself just before he’s hard again and ready to do it all over.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[faithshouseofchaos]

Hi, could I request Mick Schumacher or Esteban Ocon with an autistic reader please?

.

Microfiber is icky — Esteban Ocon x gender neutral!reader

Word count

Fluff

A/n— based on my dislike of microfiber

Y/N was busy tidying up the living room, humming softly as they moved a stack of books from the coffee table to the shelf. Everything was going smoothly until their hand brushed against the dreaded microfiber cloth resting on the arm of the couch. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming—like tiny dry needles against their skin.

They recoiled, dropping the cloth as a shiver ran up their spine. Shaking their hand as if to rid themselves of the memory, they muttered under their breath, “Why does that feel so awful?”

Before they could process further, rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway. Esteban appeared in the doorway, his expression alarmed. “Mon cœur, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice slightly breathless, as if he’d sprinted from the other side of the house.

Y/N blinked, startled by his urgency. “Oh, nothing! I just touched that microfiber cloth, and it felt… funny.” They shuddered, rubbing their fingers against their shirt to chase away the lingering sensation.

Esteban tilted his head, concern lingering in his dark eyes. “Funny how? Did it hurt you?”

Y/N shook their head quickly, feeling their cheeks warm. “No, no, it didn’t hurt. It’s just—it’s hard to explain. It’s like… slimy plastic, but dry. I hate the texture. It’s just gross.”

For a moment, Esteban stared at them, his face unreadable. Then, to their surprise, his lips curved into a soft, understanding smile. “That’s it?”

“Hey, it’s not funny!” Y/N protested, crossing their arms as heat rose to their face.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Esteban said, stepping closer. He reached out and gently took their hand, his thumb brushing over their knuckles. “I just wasn’t expecting that to be the problem. I thought you were hurt.”

Y/N sighed, feeling both sheepish and a little touched by his reaction. “I’m fine, really. It just caught me off guard. But seriously, microfiber? Who thought that was a good idea?”

Esteban chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a wave of comfort through them. “Noted. Microfiber is officially banned from this house.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“I’m serious,” Esteban interrupted, his tone light but determined. “Anything that bothers you, I’ll handle. No microfiber, no problem.”

He turned, picked up the offending cloth with two fingers as though it were toxic, and tossed it into the trash can with exaggerated care. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics.

“You’re ridiculous,” they said, but their voice was soft, filled with affection.

Esteban grinned and leaned down to press a quick kiss to their forehead. “Ridiculous, maybe. But I mean it. You shouldn’t have to deal with things you don’t like if I can help it.”

As Esteban stood there, looking entirely too proud of himself for banning a cloth, Y/N felt a swell of gratitude. It wasn’t just the big gestures that made them love him—it was these little moments, where he made them feel seen and cared for in a way no one else ever had.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Ghost aftercare, König cuteness, TW: BDSM elements, TW: Collaring, TW: Dominant Behavior, TW: Groping (M/M), Sexual themes

Ghost is daddy. That is all lol

Reader POV:

Ghost’s aftercare had been a bit more thorough than you’d initially expected. As the heat of activity had slowly ebbed from your bodies, it wasn’t long before the tile felt unbearably cold against your skin. But Ghost had jumped into action and relocated you to one of the shower benches. He quickly grabbed your shower supplies before coming to sit beside you and letting you lean against him for much needed support. The hot water felt delicious as it rained down over you both, washing every ounce of soreness from your body. Your eyes fell closed as he gently ran your soapy loofa over your skin. All you heard was the sound of the shower and Ghost whispering soothing words of affection in your ear. Those two things were what your mind clung to as you faded in and out of slumber.

At one point, you remember feeling his nails pleasantly massaging your scalp as he washed your hair. There were only a few moments where the coiled texture caught around his fingers, trapping them for a second or two. But he was a quick learner and seemed to adapt to your hair’s character soon afterwards.

Ghost chuckled at the soft whine you made when he stopped the shower’s flow. But it wasn’t long before a soft, fluffy towel enveloped your body in warmth once again. He patted your hair as dry as he could before scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to your room. You peered up at him as you went, giving him a shy and tired smile. And even though you’d just had the most intimate experience with him, his eyes flitting down towards you still made you blush.

“Look at you, snug as a bug,” he murmured. “Wore you out, huh?”

“A bit. But I don’t mind.”

There was an unmistakable spark of pride in his eyes. But he kept things calm and opened the door to your room.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

Ghost tugged your blankets back before gently lowering you onto your bed. Though you were tired, your arms lingered around his shoulders and weakly tugged at him.

“Stay?” you begged, stifling a yawn.

“Don’t you turn those puppy eyes on me like that,” he sighed, lowering your arms to the bed and tucking you in. “I can’t. Not right now. But get some sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nodded, letting your eyelids fall closed. “Thank you, Ghost.”

“No,” he ran his thumb across your cheek. “Thank you.”

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

Sometime later, you awoke to a series of knocks on your door and then a familiar face peeking into the room.

“Aw, you look so comfortable,” König cooed, gently shutting the door behind him. “Mind if I join you?”

“Come on over,” you yawned and patted the mattress beside you. “I just needed a little nap.”

König kicked off his boots and crawled onto your bed, curling up beside you. The blankets were drawn up to your chin, enveloping you like a baby wrapped in a blanket. All he could see of you was the top of your head down to your nose. But he could tell by the way your eyes crinkled that you had a sleepy smile on your face.

He tucked your head under his arm, drawing you against his chest. “So, how did it go? Is he a good dominant?”

You nodded, peeking up at him. “Oh, he’s a dom alright. I think he’s gonna be perfect. How about you?”

“I wouldn’t know yet,” he laughed. “I haven’t been as intimate with him as you have yet. But I trust your judgment. I’m excited to see what he’s like firsthand!”

König toyed with your hair, absentmindedly patting your head as you continued to wake up.

“Are you excited to go to the club tonight? All the guys are really looking forward to a good time.”

“I can’t wait! Since all three of us will be there, it’ll be a great time to hang out as a group a bit, too. See how things feel with all of us together, you know?”

"Of course! I'm excited too," he said, leaning his head on top of yours. "I'm so lucky to have you, Maus. I love you so much. Thank you for allowing this."

You gave him a sleepy smile, rubbing the slumber from your eyes. "I love you too, babe."

A loud buzzing sound reverberated from König’s pocket, sending a gentle vibration through the bed. Your phone went off too, but you were happy to ignore it in favor of prolonged snuggles. He always felt so warm! But König pulled out his phone to take a look.

“Oh. Ghost just texted me. He texted both of us.”

You perked up a bit, immediately curious. “Really? What did he say?”

König turned the screen towards you so that you could read it yourself.

Ghost: I’ll be back at the barracks in half an hour. When I get there, I want both of you in my room. I want to talk.

“Ooooo. So mysterious!” You stretched and sat up in bed. “I wonder what he wants to talk about.”

König’s eyes also held a spark of anticipation as he grinned beneath his hood. “Me too.”

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

A few minutes before he arrived, Ghost had issued additional instructions for both of you. He didn’t want you just milling around in his room unattended. So now, he'd added the condition that both of you sit on the floor before his desk chair until he showed up. König happily flopped down on the floor in a cross-legged pose, but you had a suspicion Ghost had quite a different posture in mind.

“I think he wants us to kneel,” you said, lowering onto your knees beside him. “I don’t know, it just feels like his thing.”

“Oh.” König giggled, repositioning to imitate your posture. “Like this?”

“Mmhmm! If you want, you can kinda bend your toes under you for support. But having the tops of your feet resting on the floor is fine too. I like having my knees together, but you can spread them too if it feels better.”

He cocked his head to the side in thought before adjusting a bit. After an experimental wiggle, he nodded with approval. “Okay, that feels nice. Thanks, Maus.”

“Of course!”

Just then, the door finally opened and all conversation ground to a halt ceased. You instinctively lowered your eyes to the floor and, when he saw you do so, König quickly followed suit. It was kinda cute that he looked to you for guidance. As a brand new sub, he had much to learn that you were excited to teach. But you were sure Ghost had plenty of ways planned to train him up, too.

Ghost’s footsteps thudded across the room towards the desk. The heavy silence hung in the air like fog as he settled into his chair, sizing up his captive audience. Though he reclined against the backrest, he still managed to make an otherwise lazy pose seem domineering and commanding. He towered over you, his shadow stretching out as if to swallow you whole. The toe of his combat boot tapped a steady rhythm against the floor as he plotted how he would proceed with his two new playthings. The movement filled your vision, mesmerizing you like a pendulum. Neither of you dared look any higher than his thighs, which were spread wide on the edge of the seat. The entire picture was reminiscent of a wolf baring its teeth and preparing to lunge. It was a threat display of sorts. And it was effective.

“First order of business,” Ghost's voice was low and blunt. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right. So, if there’s anything you don’t want me to do, now’s the time to speak up.”

After a pause, König tentatively raised his hand. And after receiving a nod from Ghost, he spoke in a small voice.

“I am willing to do this. And I can handle teasing. But please… do not make fun of my height. Or my shyness. That is all.”

Ghost grunted in acknowledgement. “Noted. Princess?”

You met his eyes, peeking up at him through your lashes. Seeing him staring down at you like that made you feel so small in all the best ways.

“Well, I’m open to a lot of things. But while I like the implications of stuff like knife play, I don’t actually want to be cut. So no permanent scars or marks, please?”

Ghost nodded. “Of course. I may be forceful or rough with you two. But my mission isn’t to harm you. It's to make you feel good in my own special way. Remember that. Anything else?”

When he was met with a prolonged stretch of uninterrupted silence, he was happy to take the floor himself.

“Good. I have a few ground rules myself. König, your girl already knows a bit about how I do things,” Ghost addressed König first, an audible smirk in his voice. “But just in case you get any ideas, let’s get you briefed too.

“When I ask you a question, you will answer me appropriately and with respect. Understood?” His torso shifted as he turned towards you. “Princess?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, voice barely a whisper.

“...Yes, sir,” König echoed, already beginning to blush furiously.

“Good. The only term I want to hear out of your mouths in reference to me is ‘sir’. ‘Master’ or ‘daddy’ are also acceptable, if they are more to your liking.” Ghost turned towards König with the last title he listed, taking note of the tiny whimper he’d made upon hearing it. “ ‘Ghost’ or ‘Simon’ are above your pay grade and will land you in trouble if you let them slip. Got it?”

You replied with your habitual answer. But before König could do the same, Ghost prodded him with a pointed taunt.

“Answer me, boy. Let daddy hear you.”

König visibly shivered at his words, responding in a breathy gasp. “Y-yes,... daddy.”

“Good boy,” Ghost purred, confirming his suspicion before continuing.

“Lastly. When you're with me like this, you are not in control. I am. You do not make demands and you do not give me orders. If there is something you desire, then you will ask. But you belong to me. Both of you. Every inch of your body, every corner of your soul? Mine to use as I see fit. With that said, you only touch yourself if I say you can. You only touch each other if I permit it. And no one gets off until I say so. Are we clear?”

Both of you replied in your appropriately chosen ways, fully submitted and surrendered. For a moment, Ghost just sat there reveling in the power he held over you. But shortly afterwards, he reached into the desk drawer and produced a small wooden box.

“Now that we all know our places, I have a little reminder for you. No matter the occasion or the context, you will not remove these without my direct permission.”

With a crook of his finger, he beckoned you over first. You inched forward on your knees, keeping your eyes on the floor. A firm hand landed on your shoulder to stop you once you knelt between his legs. When he grabbed your chin to slowly lift your gaze, he produced a small object from the box. It was a collar. It was minimalist and simple, easily passable as a mere fashion choice. Just a thin strip of thick, black leather. Each end bore a small golden loop. And dangling from one of them was a small, heart-shaped lock.

"I'm giving you this token of my own free will. And with it, I promise to care for, protect, and love you. I will do everything in my power to make you feel supported, nurtured, and owned. And by receiving it, you're promising me your love, obedience, and submission. Princess," Ghost hummed, momentarily breaking character to cup your cheek in his hand. "Do you willingly accept this collar and all that it represents?"

"Yes, sir," you whispered.

Ghost held your gaze, his eyes a mixture of possessiveness and adoration. This moment, this bond. It was everything to him. And looking into his eyes, you could see his steadfast commitment stronger than words could describe. Your breath quickened as he drew the strip of leather around your neck. The metal loops felt cold as he tugged it snug against your skin. He then produced a small key and fastened the two ends into place within the lock with a faint click. Just the sight of him shoving the key into his pocket afterwards made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You were his now. It was official.

In one fluid motion, Ghost lifted the bottom of his mask and pulled you into a searing kiss. He tugged you against him, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he claimed your lips with heated passion. And with what felt like great effort, he pulled away and left you a swirling flurry of emotions. When you snapped out of your daze, you saw that Ghost was silently pointing back across the room. And after you obediently retreated and resumed your submissive pose, it was König’s turn to approach.

He crept forward hesitantly, being careful not to put even one foot out of place under Ghost’s watchful eye. Seeing such a large man practically cowering before another was a rare sight. But König kept his head bowed, patiently awaiting Ghost’s permission to move any further.

Ghost tilted his chin upward and presented him with a collar of his own. His was markedly different from yours though. It was also black. But instead of leather, it was a thick, metal chain.

"I'm giving you this token of my own free will. With it, I promise to care for, protect, and love you. I will do everything in my power to make you feel supported, nurtured, and owned. And by receiving it, you're also promising me your love, obedience, and submission." Ghost toyed with the hem of his sniper's veil, letting his fingers brush against the bare skin beneath it. "You have much to learn, but I will enjoy training you. König? Do you willingly accept this collar and all that it represents?"

König bit his lip, nodding eagerly. "Yes, sir. I do."

He lifted the hem of his hood, giving Ghost full access to his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation. There was a brief flash of hunger in Ghost's eyes as he slipped the metal chain around his throat. The ends of his collar connected at the nape of his neck with a plain, silver loop. And it was much more prominent than your own, but still small enough to evade suspicion. The glossy links of the chain looked durable and strong. Resilient enough to handle a firm yank if required.

As if reading your mind, Ghost slipped his fingers beneath the corded chain and pulled experimentally. König jolted, whimpering loudly as the tension yanked him up onto his knees and tugged his face closer to Ghost’s.

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Don’t think I’ll be going easy on you because we're mates either. You gonna be a good boy for me?”

“Yes, daddy,” König was panting, his voice strained under the constriction of the collar.

“Who do you belong to? I want to hear you say it loud and clear.”

“I’m yours,” König gasped, moaning needily at his own admission. “I’m yours.”

Satisfied with the response, Ghost smirked. "Would you like a kiss too? Use your words."

"Yes, sir," he whimpered. "I would like that very much."

Ghost wasted no time giving his collar another tug and bringing his lips against his own. Their mouths clashed, tongues quickly dancing in a ravenous fight for dominance. But it was clear Ghost was winning. His hand dropped to König's hip, tugging him against his body before wandering to the crotch of his pants. Once there, he palmed König's groin, giving his growing excitement a gentle squeeze. The action earned a muffled moan of pleasure from König as he lost himself in the sensations. He hissed as Ghost grabbed his lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging at it before finally letting him go. König squirmed, desperate for the contact to continue.

“So excited for me already? Such a good boy," Ghost chuckled, licking his lips and eyeing König with increased interest. "I'll take care of that for you later tonight. But for now, back to your spot.”

König quickly shrank back, flushed and breathless as he knelt beside you again. You weren’t any better yourself. The brazen display was intensely erotic. You didn’t know how you would feel seeing König manhandled right before your eyes. But God, seeing Ghost make him whimper like that was an addiction you could see yourself getting used to very quickly.

“Now that everything is settled, you’re free to go,” Ghost said, standing and heading for the door. “I’ve taken the liberties of selecting your outfits for tonight's outing. You’ll find everything you require laid out on your beds. You will wear what you find there, nothing more and nothing less. As for how you will conduct yourselves, you may call me 'Ghost' tonight. But don’t take this as an opportunity to misbehave either. I’ll be watching you both. Step out of line and I’ll punish you accordingly the minute we're alone.”

After a synchronized response from the two of you, he walked across the room. As he went, you ventured a peek at him. His eyes slowly raked up and down your body before giving König the same heated attention. Evident hunger simmered beneath his gaze. A burning desire stoked hotter by the second. But he continued past you to the door.

"Oh," Ghost added, grabbing the knob. "And when we return, you're to meet me back here. I'm not done with either of you yet."

[corralinesage]

Child of September (4/?)

Here's some comforting fluff to start the weekend. I hope you're having a good day, and if not, maybe this will make you feel slightly better<3

18+ contains nudity and sexual undertones

Chapter 4: Malyshka

w/c: 4,2k

You were angry beyond measure, hot flashes of rage going through you as you stared at the canvas before you. The unfinished piece seemed to be mocking you as the poorly painted portrait of a man stared back at you. It wasn’t your style. It wasn’t what you wanted to paint, what you knew how to paint, but you had no say in your assignment. You needed to finish it no matter what, but all you could think about was how much you loathed the piece. You observed the paint, feeling like every stroke on the canvas was wrong. No shade of paint was accurate, no shape or texture was correct. You could barely handle the rage inside you, your hands itching to grab the canvas and tear it apart, to shred it into a million strips that could never reveal the awful image to anyone who might have come across the remnants of the frame. You were beyond stressed, your fingertips clawing over your skin in an attempt to control the feeling, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t control the feeling and all you could do was leave the room. So, without another glance at your easel you stomped out of your bedroom and into your small kitchen in the hopes of finding a non-art-related distraction.

It was a stormy morning, wind whipping leaves against your window, the gloomy light outside providing you at least a hint of comfort. The beginning of the storm made you feel more at ease, like you were being hugged by Mother Nature during your difficult time with university assignments. You got yourself a warm drink, a big, fat hot chocolate that you topped with a mountain of whipped cream that you were going to shamelessly eat with a spoon before it would even get the chance to touch the hot liquid below. You needed to do something, do something useless and pointless. Something that didn’t require your brain in the slightest, but most chores around the apartment had been completed the day before. You had food in the fridge, your laundry was done, you had recently vacuumed and mopped the floors. Your room was spotless because you had cleaned it beforehand with the intention of making time for your painting, that very cursed painting you were trying your very best to avoid. You sipped on your hot chocolate, squeezing the mug with unnecessary force until you decided that it was all way too much for you.

Natasha came to your apartment thirty minutes later, returning from a meeting at the Avengers tower, her ears immediately noting the loud banging coming from the kitchen. It was aggressive and enough to make the counters shake, which was rather alarming in her opinion. She exchanged her boots for a pair of fluffy slippers before entering the kitchen, a confused frown on her face.

“Baby, what the hell are you doing in here?” She looked almost wary, her eyes studying your rigid form as you kept banging the counter for some reason, something small, like crumbs, flying to the side and onto the floor. You hadn’t heard her come in, Natasha soon recognizing the odd substance to be cookie crumbs, her eyes spotting the empty wrapping paper soon after. “Y/N?” You whipped around at the sound of her voice, your eyes glinting harshly but no tears had fallen yet. The mere sight of her was enough to change that, large droplets sliding down your cheeks immediately after registering her arrival, yet you went back to abusing the cookies. Natasha approached you slowly, her hands touching your elbows gently to tell you to slow down before sliding her touch down your forearms.

“Let it out”, she whispered gently in your ear, aware that you were mere seconds away from a breakdown. She pressed herself against your back despite the fact that you gave the cookies a few more rather loaded bangs before you whimpered in defeat. You were so utterly disappointed in yourself that you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t handle the pain it caused you, a few restricted sobs falling from your lips as you leaned into Natasha’s embrace. “Shh, it’s alright”, she assured you, holding you tighter until you moved in a way that let her know you wanted to turn around. She kissed your cheek before bringing you into a proper hug, her arms pulling you tightly into her as you let out a few more quiet sobs. Her hands rubbed your back in long strokes, doing their best to soothe you, but you were still practically trembling from anger.

“Come on, malyshka (baby girl), let’s go somewhere where you can take your anger out on something a little less delicate.” She pulled away from you, tugging you toward the bedroom to find a place where you could calm down and maybe take a few breaths, but you took it as an opportunity for something else, your lips pressing down on hers in a feverish kiss. You knew something that was a little less delicate, or rather someone who was a little less delicate. Natasha let out a small grunt of surprise but welcomed you regardless, the touch of her hands turning from gentle to greedy in a split second. You both fell on the bed, bodies heating up with urgency, quickly tuning to the change of circumstances your capricious mind had initiated. You straddled Natasha’s lap, pushing her down on the bed, your lips never leaving hers as she tugged up your shirt, your mouths parting for only a second, so she could discard your comfortable sweater to the side. Her hands found your bra next, unhooking it in a practiced manner. You were forced to pull away to get some air, Natasha taking advantage of the small gap between you to slide the bra off your arms, but as you looked down at Natasha, her softened eyes and small smile, your chest heaving in a manner that you honestly couldn’t differentiate from an emotional breakdown, you felt your anger quickly dissipate.

She had stripped the rage off you alongside your clothes, making you realize that you had no reason to be angry. You were simply disappointed in yourself and your abilities. It didn’t make you angry, it made you sad and hopeless, your body craving for something gentler than rage-blinded sex. You craved to be held by Natasha instead as you let the emotional turmoil pass you by. You looked at her, unable to push aside the tears that welled up in your eyes, her head cocking to the side in a sympathetic gesture as her hands pulled you into her embrace, followed by a small hum of understanding from her. You sank into her arms, your tears falling silently as you settled down, nuzzling into her neck for comfort. You took deep breaths, refusing to actually lose your mind over a pathetic painting.

“I’ve got you, malyshka (baby girl)”, she whispered, her hands stroking your bare back, gently rubbing away the stress that your work had instilled in you. There was nothing you could have done, your body simply freezing into position as you grew numb to everything, the emotion seeming to intensify the longer you lay there. You allowed yourself a moment to just be, to forget about the stress, forget about the intense emotions that rampaged inside you, focusing on Natasha’s warmth instead. She was soft and unyielding beneath you, her firm touch reminding you that she was there to carry you for a moment, your mind growing fuzzy from how pleasant and relieving it was, how effortless and easy. The silence between you and Natasha stretched and stretched until she became too curious about your predicament to stay quiet. She could practically hear how hard you were thinking.

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha hummed quietly, glancing down at you as you lay on her chest, cheek pressed against her breasts. You sighed quietly, not sure if you even possessed the energy to talk, but then her hand found your hair and her lips pressed down on your forehead in a kiss, and you caved. You weren’t going to mention your painting. You had no desire to even think about it, a spark of anger still fighting to stay alight somewhere deep within you. But there was something else on your mind that you could bring up instead, something that had crept to the forefront of your mind as you had become more aware of the placement of your head. It was something that you had been thinking about for a while but had never quite dared to ask for.

“I’d wanna try something, but I feel weird about it”, you stated, tilting your head up to see her, Natasha’s eyes roaming over your face to note that your tears had dried a while ago. She tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“What is it?” She was clearly intrigued.

“It’s weird. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” You could already feel your cheeks heat, unsure of how to word your wishes, moving your eyes back down to avoid her gaze.

“I might like it”, she reasoned, earning a huff of disbelief from you.

“Yeah, but you also might not, and if you don’t, it’ll be too awkward.” It really was nothing serious, or it had the potential to be, perhaps, possibly. Natasha chuckled softly at your whiny tone, smoothing her hands down your back to press you closer to her body.

“Try me”, she whispered. “I won’t make fun of you, dorogaya (darling).” You thought about her words for a moment, gathering the courage to say what you wanted to say.

“Umh, fine.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and preparing yourself for the possibility of embarrassment, despite knowing it was more than unlikely since you knew that you could trust Natasha. “Here goes nothing”, you groaned, hiding your face into her chest. “It’s not exactly sexual. I just- it’s a comfort thing”, you mumbled, feeling her stroke her hand over the back of your head.

“Krasotka (pretty girl), I’m sure it’s perfectly normal, whatever it is”, she mused encouragingly, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. You sighed heavily, pushing your nerves aside.

“I’d wanna suck your boobs…” you said hesitantly. “While you just hold me.” Your voice turned meek and quiet, an even heat overtaking your cheeks.

“Baby, you do that all the time”, she murmured into your hair, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Yeah, but that’s more like aftercare, but would it be okay if I did it now?” Your fingers were playing with the blanket that sat beside you to ease the nerves you felt.

“It would be more than okay”, she whispered, a small smile on her lips. She found it slightly amusing how timid you were being, although she understood the fear of rejection.

“And you don’t think it’s weird?”

“No, milaya (honey), I don’t. I like it.” Her voice was reassuring, her hands sliding you off her body to be able to undress her top half. “It’s my favorite part of your aftercare routine”, she whispered almost secretively, coaxing a soft smile from you. You felt your abdomen flutter weakly at her words, watching how she pulled off her long sleeve shirt to reveal one of her favorite black bras, her fingers unhooking it at the back to let her heavy breasts free of the lingerie. She settled down onto her side, her head propped up onto her elbow as she pulled you down on the bed with her. You looked up at her a bit hesitantly, her hand coming to the side of your face to brush aside some of your hair.

“It’s okay, detka (baby).” She spoke in a quiet, soothing tone, her hand moving to the back of your head to guide you closer to her as if to simply hug you, your face pressing into the crook of her neck. The warm smell of her perfume was intense there, a wave of comfort washing over you immediately, prompting you to take an even deeper breath of her delicious scent. You allowed your body to relax against her, the smell, the warmth, the intimacy coaxing you to open your mouth to feel more of her against you, your lips pressing open-mouthed kisses over her smooth skin.

You descended a little lower, kissing over the more solid area of her collarbones before finding the pliable flesh of her chest. You opened your mouth, licking over the silky skin of her breast before gently wrapping your lips around her nipple just like you always did, although the lack of sex beforehand made you feel even more vulnerable for what you were doing. Natasha hummed quietly as her hand started to move in your hair, petting you affectionately, scratching her nails over your scalp. Your cheeks grew hot, the wave of heat descending into the rest of your body. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you relaxed further into the bed and into her hold, softly suckling her, your mouth barely moving at all. You both adjusted your positions on the bed, cuddling to get more comfortable to allow you both to ease into the sensation, a blanket of comfort wrapping around you both. Natasha’s hand moved up and down your back in long strokes, her lips occasionally pressing into your hair. She had her eyes closed, her body relaxed under the touch of your warm mouth. She loved it. She loved how casual and gentle it was, how intimate, finding herself to be at peace beside you, yet she still opened her eyes to see you, wanting to remember the moment down to the smallest of details.

“That’s it”, she whispered, leaning to kiss your hairline, feeling so connected to you when your mouth was on her. “You’re such a good girl”, she mumbled, your cheeks heating right back up at her comment, followed by a little grin that found your lips. You pulled back to see her face, Natasha offering a knowing smirk to you.

“How’d you know?” You asked in astonishment, not exactly having expected her to be so aware of what you were looking for in the act. You had nearly brought it up yourself, having hoped that she would talk to you, tell you how good you were, praise you, but you had ditched the idea after feeling like you were asking for too much.

“I know what my baby needs.” There was a hint of smugness in the confident tone she spoke with, the backs of her fingers caressing your face softly. Your heart fluttered rather intensely at her words, pleasant warmth pooling in your lower abdomen. “You always treat me so well”, she mused in a slightly sensual tone. “You’re so excellent”, she continued, meaning every word, her style of speaking leaning toward something more patronizing, but in a good-natured, caring way, a small pout on her lips. “It’s only fair that I return all that love and effort.” Her fingertips ran up your jaw, eyes taking you in as if admiring every last inch of your face. All you could do was submit to the overwhelming comfort her assertive demeanor brought you, completely and utterly enraptured by her. “Why don’t you just put that pretty mouth back on me and let me take care of you?” Your blush was violent, cheeks heating in record time as you looked up at her beautiful face, heeding her command and slowly lowering your mouth back on her breast, eyes sliding shut automatically. You nuzzled closer to her, drawn in by her warmth, occasionally sucking a little harder on her nipple to hear her sharp inhales that made your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“Mmh, malyshka (baby girl)”, she hummed dreamily, placing her hand back to the nape of your neck to keep you flush against her. “Your mouth feels so good”, she crooned, smiling softly to herself. She could see it on your face, she could see how happy her words made you, how you fought the smile that threatened to disrupt the movement of your mouth. “My pretty baby”, she sighed, her lower body feeling a little too warm, mind wandering to the thought of those lips of yours trailing lower. She couldn’t say that she was unaffected by the act, but she decided to keep things casual to follow your request. You had said it was a comfort thing, and she thought it should remain that way at least for the time being. She pulled your body a bit closer to her own, sliding her leg between yours to get more comfortable. You hooked your arm over her middle, the touch of your mouth growing a bit firmer as you parted your lips wider, taking in more of her breast.

“Is my detka (baby) tired?” She asked casually, fingertips detangling your hair absentmindedly, enjoying the sound of gentle squelches against the silence of the room. You nodded your head, letting out an affirmative hum. “Oh, you poor thing”, she lamented, splaying out her hand over the expanse of your back. “Natasha’s got you now.” The third person form was intentional, probing for something that she knew to be there.

“Mommy”, you corrected her with the smallest voice you could muster. Natasha felt a jolt of pleasure go through her, her body warming up instantly.

“Mommy? You want mommy?” She asked to confirm if she had heard you right because you had never used that term seriously. It had only been used as a silly, little joke to cope with your mommy issues, but Natasha had had a feeling that there was something more there all along. You had been easing her into the thought for ages, maybe even used it as a way to get yourself more comfortable with the idea.

“Uh-huh”, you nodded, keeping your eyes shut, your body limp against her, clearly hiding from her just in case. Maybe you were even hiding from yourself.

“I’ll gladly be your mommy”, she assured you, her voice holding such tenderness that you could feel your eyes start to itch with tears. “Mommy’s got you”, she added in a whisper, her hand finding the back of your head in an affectionate caress. “You just relax.” You felt so heavy in her arms, yet your mind was light and airy, your jaw slowly growing more tired, but you didn’t stop just yet. Natasha focused on your body against hers, your teeth starting to sting as they brushed repeatedly against her delicate skin, her breast eventually becoming too sensitive to your touch.

“Mmh, malyshka (baby girl), time to switch sides”, she whispered carefully, easing you off her breast, your eyes fluttering open to see her flushed nipple that was a deep, vibrant pink. You glanced up at her shyly, Natasha offering a sweet smile to you, feeling enamored by your groggy face as she held it by the chin with her thumb and index finger. “Oh, you’re so adorable”, she chuckled, a small pout finding her lips as she leaned forward to kiss you, hearing you huff out a laugh before your mouths connected in a sweet, little peck.

You pulled back enough to allow Natasha to roll more onto her back so you could better reach her left breast that had been pressed into the mattress. You still felt slight embarrassment for the entire predicament, but you pushed it aside as you allowed Natasha to cradle you against her chest again, your mouth finding her breast on its own. You sank into her embrace, falling asleep soon after you had shut your eyes. She held you there, your lips wrapped gently around her nipple, unmoving. She was so in love with the quiet moment as well as the new discovery she had made about you after a full year of being in a relationship with you. She found it endearing that there were still things you might not have known about each other, finding herself feeling relieved that you had finally found the courage to ask for what you needed, the silence allowing her to ponder the idea a bit further. She liked taking care of you, she had always been more than prone to it and the moniker of your choice somehow only seemed to amplify that feeling because it was more than just a girlfriend. You wanted her to be more.

Natasha couldn’t lie. She had thought about it many times, sometimes even felt the urge to refer to herself as mommy in a more serious manner just to add a layer of excitement to your intimate moments together. It was thrilling for no reason, something exciting and fun, a way to let loose, kind of like how you were currently letting go of the burden on your shoulders. She wanted to provide you whatever you might have craved in a relationship, especially if she craved that very same thing herself. She played with your hair, twirling the locks between her fingers as she allowed you to recharge yourself in her arms. It brought her an indescribable kind of high to think that she could mean so much to you, that she could be someone so important to another person. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a slight smile, her eyelids fluttering shut to revel in the warmth and intimacy between your, her mind growing fuzzy, longing to submit to the ubiquitous sense of relaxation that wrapped around her like a shield of protection from the world. Her head lolled to the side, her nose pressing into your messy head of hair to breathe in your comforting scent as her mind slipped away from her.

You woke up some time later, unable to tell how much time had passed, your blurry eyes taking in the splatter of rain against your bedroom window. The storm had finally broken out, wind throwing droplets of water against the glass, the steady rumble of thunder reaching your ear. You had moved slightly in your sleep, or maybe Natasha’s had moved you, your head resting fully on her chest as she lay on her back. Your warm cheek was pressed up tightly against her soft breast, your skin almost glued to her from the warmth of your bodies, the rest of your naked upper body attached to her in the same manner. The sensation was slightly sticky, which only told you that you had probably just had the best nap of your life. It made you smile. You felt almost rejuvenated from all of it. The intensity of the coziness you felt both physically and emotionally was on another level. You nuzzled your warm face into Natasha’s breast, smiling against the soft skin as you moved your body just enough to allow it to start waking up a bit.

You saw a flicker of light flash across your room, your eyes only barely catching the white flash of lighting that was shortly followed by the deep rumble of thunder. You closed your eyes, your heart seeming to buzz in your chest from joy as you hugged Natasha a little tighter feeling her stir beneath you, a soft, groggy moan sounding from her. The noise was followed by a small whine as she arched her back, your head nearly sliding off her chest at the disturbance, but her hand came up to the side of it to keep you in place. You couldn’t help but to let out a gentle hum as you kissed her skin, her arms tightening around you. Natasha tilted her head down enough to be able to see you, the action causing you to lift your head up to meet her gaze. Her face was groggy and relaxed, perfectly gorgeous, just like always. You smiled at each other, Natasha moving her head forward enough to kiss your forehead, her hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Neither of you really felt the need to speak, Natasha’s mouth pressing on your lips next, the quiet squelch of your mouths followed by a low rumble of her stomach. You couldn’t help but to giggle quietly.

“You were baking something, milaya (honey)?” Her words made you laugh a little louder, the rasp of her voice stirring something else within you.

“I was.” You nodded your head, Natasha’s gaze dropping to your lips again and then coming back up.

“You up for a snack?”

“Half the cracker crumbs are on the floor but sure”, you chuckled, leaning down to kiss her again. She laughed with you, her fingertips trailing down your spine so delicately that it almost tickled. You got up from the bed, getting fully dressed before lighting a few candles in the living room to bring some warmth and atmosphere to the middle of the storm outside while you whipped up some cake filling, not really bothering to assemble your cheesecake when you and Natasha were too impatient to wait for it to firm up in the fridge, so you grabbed the bowl and some toppings, enjoying the dessert together, cuddled up on the couch as the storm wrapped you into a bubble of your own.

[beeholyshit]

I'M GONNA START CRYING I'M SO ILL RN

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[fbfh]

just woke up from a baby dream and I'm a sobbing wreck :) anyway Logan Huntzberger doesn't expect much from his future besides monetary success, partying, and a lot lot lot of sex. he definitley doesn't expect to look up one day and realize he's sharing a home, a life with someone. not only that, but he's the one that instigated it. he told you in college he didn't like you being around other guys. he stopped caring about the girls that he would go between, because now he just seems to care about you. everything else falls to the sidelines. so he comes back to his big fancy house after an important business meeting on the golf course, and he sees you there. some old sitcom is marathoning on tv, and you're wrapped up in fluffy blankets, hair up and out of your face. you look so cozy, so comfortable. you keep adjusting the blankets, fussing with them as you hum softly. he walks closer, overcome with a feeling of love and swelling pride and... paternal instinct he's never felt. your son Henry, just a month or two old is bundled on your arms. you look up at Logan and smile so warmly he could cry just from the look on your face when you see him.

"hi," you breathe softly. Henry's settled down, so you don't want to rile him up too much, but he's not all the way asleep.

"hey ace," he breaths, sitting next to you. he wraps you in his arms and kisses you, meeting forgotten as you both admire you baby boy together. you rub his tummy gently, soothingly, and Logan smooths his hair. it's short and fuzzy, and a little prickly. it makes him laugh softly. Henry is wearing the white and blue onesie Honor got for him at the baby shower. he makes a mental note to take some pictures to send her of him wearing it. the soft fabric of his polo shirt and the smell of his cologne mixed with the distinct remnants of golf course air is so comforting. he watches you admire your son, trace the shape of his cute little nose, copy the faces he makes, babble little noises at him. he watches you smooth his hair and help him get comfortable in your arms, watches you place your finger in his hand so he can hold onto it with that surprisingly strong baby death grip. Henry wiggles around, getting comfortable in your arms, and you kiss his forehead again. once you're sure that he's settled, not too warm and not too cold, comfortable and lying safely, you can finally relax. you rest your head on Logan's shoulder, closing your eyes and finally letting yourself relax and rest a little. you take in a big deep breath of his masculine scent, somehow both spicy and refreshing, and sigh. you're content. you're more than content, he realizes. you're happy. Logan... made you happy. he found out what you wanted and built you a life you want, a life he wants. it hits him like a ton of bricks in one overwhelming, amazing moment, and he soaks in the feeling, watching the way your sleeping babys face and yours mirror each other.

[cozylittleartblog]

new stickers 💖 all the red on kris + their sword is holographic

[sirenemale]

everything abt the httyd remake feels like such a deep insult to the first film. Insulting animation as an artform, insulting the texture and lighting work that still holds up so so well. Insulting everything they put in to make it such a tightly written and skillful film. Like what could you improve with this scene, the amount of character you get from toothless here and seeing his thought process, fhe mix of accepting his fate, weariness and curiosity, you're just sucking the life and intention out of it for what. To see the dirt in between toothless's scales? Guess what you can already see that in the first movie. To flatten the lighting, remove all mood so you can see how good they modeled his new scales? Show you how real the mulch looks. Whatever. They do this all the time but this is personal (autism) you're being shown up by a film from 2010. She is eating you ALIVE. Even the other httyd films couldn't quite re-capture what they did with toothless in this first one, they remodeled him ever so slightly and he lost that edge of intelligent Animal, and became a Slightly more condensed version of himself now that his personality was established.

[jrueships]

anybody else have a food they're allergic to but still eat anyway

[cursed-rat-of-homosexuality]

local man reads physical comics for the first time and is irreversibly changed

no more news at 7 because he fuckin died

[sysig]

Being a villain isn’t all fun and games! Just mostly (Patreon)

[nobodybetterlookatme]

how are you feeling today? did you make it through unscathed?

Yeah I definitely didn't 😭 I've been hella congested all day and I definitely have a cough, but it's more bc my throat is bugging me than anything. I don't think I technically have a fever, my temp's just slightly elevated from where it normally is. It's fucking miserable bc I can't breathe through my nose and the damn thing fucking hurts, and I'm kinda uncomfortable and a little achy, but other than that I'm mostly just tired and a little hazy and generally just don't feel great, so I'm not dying like my partner was lmao. But yeah, all this to say that I'm fucking pissed at him and I literally feel like a goddamn plague rat 😭😭

[milo-is-rambling]

I did my make up also doby is here

[rashfordian]

daily shuffle ting 📸