#Thank you to my friends for helping me with this

[sloaneispunk]

“too sweet for me”

frontman!in-ho x you

when in-ho developed feelings for you in the games, he realised how much older he was compared to you. but age is just a number…right?

๑⋅⋯ ──── ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ──── ⋯⋅๑

after the first games, reality set in. you sat on your bed, trying to scrub the blood off your hands and face. you were practically clawing at your arms, but the blood wouldn’t come off. then, you were approached by a man. ‘player 001’ it said on the jacket.

“you’re hurting yourself like that.” the man said to you, kneeling down by your bed.

“i’m fine.” you gave him a weak smile as you stopped.

“come, let me help.” he took your hand, taking the sleeve of his jacket, gently rubbing the dry blood off of your arm as you watched.

“thank you.” you whispered.

“you’re welcome.” he looked up and smiled. “you have some here…” in-ho licked his thumb, hesitating as if he was asking for permission, when you nodded, he cleaned your cheek.

when he was done, you thanked him once more.

“what’s your name? you look awfully young.” he commented.

“y/n…” you said shyly, making his heart swell.

“i’m young-il, it was nice to meet you.” he said before he got up, but you grabbed his arm.

“wait, i uh, c-can you stay?”

in-ho looked down at you, why would you want him to stay?

“i shouldn’t, i-” then, he heard a group of rowdy boys on the other side of the room, the leader with purple hair picking on a weaker girl. “on second thought, i think i should.”

in-ho stayed with you until lights out, keeping an eye out for thanos’ group and making sure that you were safe from them.

how old were you? definitely much younger than he was, but you were so sweet, so innocent. he loved it.

the next day, in-ho hadn’t slept. he had been too caught up watching you sleep, admiring as every hair fell in place, your chest heaving with every breath you took. he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t approached you with a motive. he knew it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from going to the bathroom when everyone was asleep to jerk himself off to the thought of you.

“y/n, come, have mine. you need to eat more.” in-ho said sternly, passing you his packet of milk as he ate his breakfast with you.

“why? you should have it.” you rejected him, tossing it back to him.

“you need it more than me.”

“i’m not a kid, young-il.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him causing him to chuckle.

you weren’t. so why did he have the urge to protect you?

then, he heard the voice of gi-hun, he turned around. there his real target was. in-ho brought you along as he made his way to the group, approaching them with a friendly smile.

easily, they welcomed you both with open arms, just like how in-ho knew they would.

“so why did you pick ‘o’?” jung-bae asked, mouth stuffed full.

“oh, i just need more money to pay off my debt…” in-ho started. “… i had a wife and kid but i lost them because of my gambling habits.”

the whole atmosphere of the group fell, everyone didn’t know what to say.

you somehow felt guilty. this man was old enough to be your dad, why were you attracted to him? besides he already has a family outside this place. your heart sank, making you look down at your food as the others continued to talk.

“what about you?” you heared in-ho ask, making your head shoot up. “i’m sure your parents must be worried, why do you want to keep playing?” he pointed to the ‘o’ on your jacket.

“it’s just me.” you replied solemnly, “i don’t really have anyone waiting for me.”

you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, staring into your soul as you immediately regretted revealing that part of yourself. you mentally slapped yourself, you were being too vulnerable too quickly.

“hey, it’s okay. when we get out of here, we’ll all continue being friends!” jung-bae nudged your arm, making you smile.

“yeah! we’ll all go eat a feast when we get out!” dae-ho agreed.

in-ho didn’t like that idea, and his face didn’t even try to hide it. he didn’t like that you would hang out with anyone other than him.

‘players please proceed to the next game’

you were terrified. after knowing the stakes at hand, you knew it was suicide continuing, but you didn’t have any other choice. in-ho noticed you stiffen, he gave your arm a squeeze, letting you know that he was still there.

when you reached the second game, you learnt that it was going to be played in groups of five. luckily for everyone, your team already had five members.

you took your seats in a line on the floor, awaiting instructions. in-ho sat in front of you, still ensuring that you were sat close to him as the game commenced.

the first two teams took their places at the start line, both eager to win the games. but it was harder than anyone had thought. eventually, neither was able to complete all stations in time. you watched as they were being taken out by the guards, shot down with no remorse.

you instinctively grabbed onto in-ho as you gasped at the gnarly sight in front of you. if you didn’t get your head in the game, that would be you soon enough.

“what are you thinking about?” in-ho questioned when you had failed to answer him, lost deep in your thoughts.

“i’m scared, young-il.”

“nothing will happen to you, i promise.” he replied, ruffling your hair. “stay strong for me.”

you nodded.

when it was your turn, you could feel your legs shaking with every step you took. in-ho was the first to link your arms with his, giving you a subtle smile to calm your nerves.

as the game started, the team made their way to the first station. dae-ho picked up the ddakji, throwing it once, hard onto the ground. by some miracle, the blue envelope had flipped and everyone cheered.

at the second game, jung-bae took the stone from the guard. you shifted closer to in-ho, giving him space to aim. in-ho took the opportunity, pulling you close against him, you were everything at that moment. he could feel the warmth radiating off you, your smell filling his nostrils, making his head dizzy. he barely noticed when everyone cheered once more ehen the stone had been easily knocked down.

then, it was your turn.

“breathe.” in-ho whispered in your ear when he noticed how shaky your hands were.

to his surprise, you had managed to pass within a single try. he cheered you on louder than anyone in the team, moving on the the next game.

even as he spun the spinning top, your arm never left his. maybe it was a good luck charm, because he too was able to spin it on his first try. part of his was relieved because he didn’t embarrass himself in front of you but another was disappointed. in-ho had planned this moment out for so long, he would fail multiple times to keep gi-hun on edge. it was funny how just by having you there he had screwed up his whole plan, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it.

naturally, gi-hun had also made it without having any redo’s. everyone was estatic as they were being led out of the game room, but in-ho was off.

then, he felt a small hand on his shoulder causing him to turn around only to be met with your face.

“are you okay?” you asked as you caught up with him. “we did it, why do you look so down?”

“just surprised i guess.” he said, trying to brush it off.

walking back into the room, you were approached by thanos and his team.

“you goons made it back, huh?” thanos jeered, arms crossed as he looked you up and down.

that didn’t go unnoticed by in-ho. he slapped the boy across the face, shocking him as he gasped dramatically.

“look at me when you’re talking to me.” in-ho spat.

“who are you? is this your boyfriend, girl? isn’t he a bit too old?” thanos laughed. but in-ho didn’t take it lightly, punching him, causing him to fall to the ground as his nose started to bleed.

“young-il, that’s enough.” you stopped him before he could take it further.

with one last look of disgust, in-ho walked off, leaving the boy on the floor.

in-ho might not have realised it but that comment took a toll on him. it made him realise how true his words really were. he was in his 50s and you were so much younger than him, it wasn’t right for him to feel how he felt towards you.

“young-il, what happened-”

“go away, y/n. i don’t even know why you care so much.” he raised his voice, pulling his arm away before you could touch him.

you were dumbfounded, taking a step back as your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

did that come out too harsh? he hadn’t mean to snap at you, he was just so caught up in everything.

you simply nodded, heading back to the team as he stood there alone, regret overwhelming him as he cursed under his breath.

that night, he couldn’t sleep. how could he? he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to erase your pitiful face from his mind. eventually, he got up, walking towards your bed, but you were gone.

he started to panick, rushing towards the guards, pushing pass them to leave the room. as he practically ran pass the bathroom, he heard soft cries. shit.

he barged in, “y/n? are you here?” you didn’t reply.

he went to the only closed stall and gently knocked, making sure that he didn’t scare you. “y/n, open the door. it’s me.”

“go away.” he heard your muffled voice.

he really did mess up.

“honey, open the door, let me in.” he pleaded.

after a few moments, he heard a click. then, he saw you, sitting on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, your eyes and lips puffy from crying.

“oh, darling.” he cooed, kneeling down, just like how he did when you had first met. “why are you crying?”

you didn’t reply, only gazing up at him with sadness in your eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him what was wrong, he knew.

he sat down, pulling you close to him, letting you cry into his chest as he held you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it.” he murmured into your hair. “please don’t cry.”

his heart broke all over again with every tear that fell. he had hurt the only person that didn’t deserve any pain in this place.

what was he going to do? he had never felt this kind of weakness before, he almost felt vulnerable with you. you needed him and he needed you too.

[hyammsh]

Happiness pervades all over Gaza and I have good news for you 🌹I am Hiam Shehab and my husband Mohammed Shehab the owners of the Zain and Yahya campaign and they are our children🌹

My friends, thank you for supporting me throughout the war between Gaza and Israel.

I want to tell you something, one of them is good, the other is not good, the good news for you, they have reached a ceasefire, and I hope that the calm in Gaza will continue, or is the bad news that we still cannot get out of Gaza?

Because of the lack of sufficient funds to move my family out of Gaza, the donations were slow and I hope that you will support our campaign with your donations, dear friends, as soon as possible, so that I can leave Gaza with my family

Tagging some people to help by donating and/or sharing:🙏🙏🙏 @godspersonalclown @murenaaaaa @blue-glasses-dork @tomathomatommy @whimsical-musingss @ctechnoblade @nerdytextileartist @helloemptyset @rhythm-of-the-wardrums @paper-mario-wiki @punkitt-is-here @peri-requiem @antixabound @antixabound @shadowinthetrees@charrednewt @apocalyptic-dancehall @nevert-the-guy @x-critter2022 @bigboobshaunt @maxknightley @jesterraconteuse @ikeepforgettimypassword @averagenotnormal @jenqatower@kingofthebookcase @funhousefreakwrites @redacted-metallum @quartzyposts @6yin6yang6 @mazm-imagines @ur-local-anxiety-gremlin @sminny-wew @ocherednoe-dno @wolf-tail@stabbedwitharustyynail @keysmandude @hamsterlover38 @phoibos-querella @arachnidtub@mansikka-wizard @welcometogrouchland @willowthighpillow @ssenza @shikse @gh4ul @sundung @fandom-master-mind @aconstantallegory @proffittproductions @romdocitizen @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @peachyleechy @loonarmuunar @soft-sunbird @cockworkangels @dannyketch @cramenjoyer @oreobunny2@soopertiddies @inthecornerofyourbedroom @aurorae-return @spindly-counting @depressedthembo @moronicprincess @the-mold-under-your-bed123 @nyenyel @linz-creations @we-eat-our-young @koscheiy @cyclopsboxhead

[yugsly]

Do you have any advice for artists who so desperately want to create something- anything- but nothing they do feels or comes out right? To the point where it feels like a herculean task to even draft ideas out. I wouldn’t describe it as an art block because it’s been years now, in my case.

I know it’s a bit of a heavy question and the same advice won’t work for every body. I suppose I’m just curious if you’ve ever dealt with similar emotions. Your art plucks my heartstrings and makes me think in ways few other artists have, thank you for making such wonderful creations and thank you for providing the opportunity to engage like this.

It sounds like you need to find your voice. Or, find your Voice again. I have dealt with similar things. I was in a similar slump the past couple of months. ... Uh, like six months. It was Really Bad. Nothing felt right. I forgot why I did art and why I liked it, for a beat, and I felt very lost. Was incredibly hard to draw and think.

What finally took me out of it (I guess I'm still digging myself out, but) was revisiting things that lit my fire to begin with, reminded me what I was fighting for with my visions in the first place. Music, comics, movies! Talking with my friends about those things. Go to the library for a day and dig around. It sounds silly maybe but Trust.

And starting small. Don't start something thinking it has to be Your Big Thing. Something consumable. You gotta do it for yourself. Make something you want to see. Make comics on napkins. Doodle with crayons. You gotta let loose. It sounds silly but you gotta start with, "it ain't that serious." You're just you. Playing dolls. Draw what you WANT to play with. Share it with others if you want to, if that motivates you, but don't let others become the only reason you create.

I don't know if this helps.

Thank you, by the way!

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[chaoticwriting]

Streamer Danny

Everyone has a hobby or something they like to do. For Cass, that is watching Danny's stream. She doesn't know why but Danny's voices are very soothing and pleasant to hear. And it's not even just her that thought that. Every single one of Danny's fans say the same thing.

It is also a plus that Danny always talks using simple English. It makes it easier for her to learn how to speak and even read. Her favorite streams are the streams where Danny just sits and chats with the viewers. Not to say she doesn't like the other contents but there is just something nice to hear him answer her questions about himself.

No. She totally doesn't have a crush on that guy Steph. He doesn't even know her. How can she have a crush on someone that she never met before.

One thing she takes notes is the concerning things Danny sometimes says online. Like how he is half dead. Or something about a creepy godfather or something. Cass tries to look into him more with Tim's help (No Tim. She doesn't have a crush on this guy. And it's not creepy at all to stalk his personal information like this.) but finds practically nothing online about him except for his streaming channel and his hometown being somewhere in Illinois.

Danny also sometimes brings in guests to either interview or play video games with. There is Tucker, tech geek. He apparently is the one that sets up Danny's devices so that he can stream easily. Then there is Sam. His ex-girlfriend best friend. They talk about a lot of things mostly plants and ecosystems. There are also his sisters. Ellie is also a recurring guest. She often comes on stream and shares her travel experience and tips when traveling. Then there is Jazz who works as a psychiatrist at Arkham. And also is apparently working part-time for Red Hood.

Cass almost goes crazy when she hears that. She contemplates going to Jason to blackmail ask Jason to introduce Danny to her. Cass barely hesitates and the next thing anyone knows, Cass is inside Jason's apartment sitting on his couch nibbling on the freshly baked cookies Jason has on his counter.

Jason: *Walks out from his bedroom* Wtf! Where the hell did you come from?

Cass: *Stares*

Jason: Uggh. What the hell do you want?

Cass: Do you know Jazz?

Jason: *Tense* Why do you want to know?

Cass: Introduce me to her brother.

Jason: Danny? Why the hell do you wanna meet her?

Cass: A fan.

Jason: A fan? A fan of what? Wait. Danny did do the live streaming shit. Are you talking about that?

Cass: *Nods*

Jason: Whatever. Just don't fucking enter my house like that next time. I will call you to tell you when he is free.

Cass: *Smiles* Thank you.

Jason: Yeah yeah.

-Other place-

Danny: And that's it for today's stream people. I think I can stream again tomorrow but let's see if plans can keep up with change.

Chat: We want you to sing!

Danny: I will think about it in the next stream. Anyway see you later guys.

Chat: Bye!

Turning off the stream, Danny tiredly releases a sigh. Danny doesn't know why everyone wants him to sing. As far as Danny remembers, his voice has always been okay at best. He remembers getting mocked by Dash and his group when they participated in a choir when they were 10. Since then, Danny swears that he will never sing again.

What Danny likes though is dancing. Especially, ballet. He always likes the way the dancer expresses their emotions through body movements. The way they express anger, sadness, happiness and even love. When he becomes a ghost, he gets even better at reading those using ghost speak. Danny dreams of one day being able to dance in front of an audience of hundreds.

Opening a video platform website, Danny searches for a specific ballet group that he encounters. The group has a specific dancer that is amazing at expressing her emotions through dance.

Danny watches longingly hoping he could one day dance like that, or even dance with her. Suddenly a knock comes from his door.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Can we talk?

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[hyammsh]

My friends, time is tight and I still need your support for my family🙏🫂

My friends, we have reached the crucial time, a ceasefire agreement has been reached between Gaza and Israel, and you must support us in fundraising so that we can leave Gaza as quickly as possible.

currently we have reached only €6613 We only need €387 to reach €7000 . Thank you my friends for helping me. Please continue to donate so I can reach my goal

🛑 Time is not in my family's favor, hurry up to donate and participate, it's our only chance to get out of Gaza🚨

Tagging some people to help by donating and/or sharing:🙏🙏🙏 @godspersonalclown @murenaaaaa @blue-glasses-dork @tomathomatommy @whimsical-musingss @ctechnoblade @nerdytextileartist @helloemptyset @rhythm-of-the-wardrums @paper-mario-wiki @punkitt-is-here @peri-requiem @antixabound @antixabound @shadowinthetrees@charrednewt @apocalyptic-dancehall @nevert-the-guy @x-critter2022 @bigboobshaunt @maxknightley @jesterraconteuse @ikeepforgettimypassword @averagenotnormal @jenqatower@kingofthebookcase @funhousefreakwrites @redacted-metallum @quartzyposts @6yin6yang6 @mazm-imagines @ur-local-anxiety-gremlin @sminny-wew @ocherednoe-dno @wolf-tail@stabbedwitharustyynail @keysmandude @hamsterlover38 @phoibos-querella @arachnidtub@mansikka-wizard @welcometogrouchland @willowthighpillow @ssenza @shikse @gh4ul @sundung @fandom-master-mind @aconstantallegory @proffittproductions @romdocitizen @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @peachyleechy @loonarmuunar @soft-sunbird @cockworkangels @dannyketch @cramenjoyer @oreobunny2@soopertiddies @inthecornerofyourbedroom @aurorae-return @spindly-counting @depressedthembo @moronicprincess @the-mold-under-your-bed123 @nyenyel @linz-creations @we-eat-our-young @koscheiy @cyclopsboxhead

Help Hyam Shehab save her family

@hyamshehabfamile and her family are once again facing an unforgiving winter in the midst of ongoing oppression, disease, a lack of food and clean water, and inhumane conditions.

Their main goal is €60,000 to reach safety, but they are setting a temporary goal of €10,000 by the end of the week to cover the costs of warm clothes, food, and other immediate needs for 6 people.

As of December 2, 2024, this campaign has raised €3,443 / €10,000

Please donate if you can and share! This is a time sensitive short-term goal

This campaign is line 127 on the Gaza Vetters list

tagging for reach

@anamiques @vague-humanoid @andromachos @wutheringheightsfilm @solroja @lesboevils @evilbisexualonline @lovetren @xenomorphique @bedcorpse @keithers @mossymagpie @in-need-of-another-name @thetragiclown @soggy-paradise @same-png @ispyspookymansion @dickmaster @geometric-orcas @angelsaxis @vamprisms @heritageposts @colorisbyshe @mpregbts @dlxxv-vetted-donations @chilewithcarnage @2spirit-0spoons @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @femmefitz

[megamindsecretlair]

hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband. 

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper. 

“Hey babe,” you said. 

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat. 

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would. 

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride. 

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?  

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you. 

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain. 

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy. 

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said. 

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said. 

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further. 

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way. 

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married. 

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors. 

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him. 

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet. 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet. 

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth. 

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around. 

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing. 

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said. 

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said. 

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms. 

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension. 

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax. 

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked. 

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7. 

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind. 

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air. 

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right. 

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face. 

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself. 

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip. 

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare. 

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room. 

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties. 

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink. 

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle. 

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness. 

“T-Terry,” you sighed. 

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable. 

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it. 

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs. 

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions. 

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface. 

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear. 

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him. 

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss. 

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours. 

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough. 

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base. 

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in. 

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it. 

“You feelin’ me?” He asked. 

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you. 

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked. 

“Terry,” you sniffled. 

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family. 

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised. 

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being. 

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted. 

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said. 

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling. 

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper. 

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek. 

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will. 

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls. 

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you. 

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him. 

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action. 

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said. 

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you. 

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body. 

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations. 

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands. 

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect. 

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time. 

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them. 

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. 

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased. 

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence. 

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded. 

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said. 

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said. 

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him. 

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face. 

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out. 

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily. 

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper. 

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed. 

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force. 

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly. 

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him. 

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love. 

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[ebodebo]

—thinking about jason todd being a smug bastard... MDNI

Wayne Manor was swarmed with people. 

Once again, your parents had insisted on attending one of Bruce's charity galas, dragging you along.

You couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this world of opulence and pretense.

It was fun to dress up with thousand-dollar dresses and jewels, but, Christ, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sound of clinking glasses, making it stuffy even in the corner of the room where you stood.

They were nothing more than a group of pretentious assholes parading around and gloating about their wealth.

The very sight of them filled you with a profound sense of disdain for the whole event, a feeling that seemed to grow with each passing moment. 

You just thanked God Bruce always provided good booze.

"Cute dress," a deep voice sounded next to you.

You know immediately who it is.

"Was gonna wear red, but I didn't want you to get all jealous, Jason," you jest, your tone oozing with sarcasm.

"Is that right?" He smirked, handing you a glass of champagne. 

"Yeah. So I settled for blue," you shrugged, grasping the champagne.

"I think red suits you better," he hummed, sipping the alcohol. 

"I bet you do, Toddy," you chirp, eyes leering over the glass as you sip.

"You think you're so funny," he mutters, referring to the silly nickname you call him to his dismay. 

"I think I'm pretty hilarious," you smile, clearly amused with yourself.

"I can tell," he jibbed, taking another swig of the alcohol, eye peering over the rim to lock with yours.

You open your mouth to speak but are interrupted by a refined, high-pitched tone dripping with an air of superiority calling out for Jason in the dimly lit, crowded room. 

"Jay," a blonde girl quipped, making no effort to greet you, only batting her lashes at him. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Well, you know..." He trails off before mustering a fake smile. "Duty calls."

She lets out a horrendous giggle that has you laughing at the sheer absurdity before her eyes lock on you.

"And...you are?" Her tone is almost revolted, adding to the tension in the air. 

Just take the high road, you think to yourself. 

"I'm a friend," you plaster a ricus smile.

She purses her lips, her eyes betraying a mix of jealousy and curiosity as they dart between you and Jason.

You'll play nice tonight, sure. 

"Don't worry. I have a date of my own," you lightly smile, internally cringing, torn between maintaining your composure and the urge to flee.

"You do?" Jason asks with utter perplexity.

No.

"Yeah," you breathe out.

His eyes squint, you gulp.

"Well...where's the lucky guy?" Blondie poses, her arms crossing over her chest, her condescension palpable in her tone. 

Your eyes quickly scan the room before you hear a familiar voice walking behind you.

"There you are!" You beam, turning around, reaching for poor Dick's wrist, and pulling him next to you. 

"Dick?" She questions, her curiosity piqued.

"Dick?" Jason questions, his tone dripping with disgust.

"Not happy to see me?" Dick teases as you casually thread your arm through his.

You don't miss the way Jason's whole body tenses. 

"How...charming," Blondie quips hesitantly before she threads her arm through Jason's.

Jason doesn't miss how your whole body tenses, issuing a smug smirk at your bewilderment. 

Oh? He wanted to play dirty.

Well, two can play that game. 

"Isn't he just a charmer?" You chirp, your tone laced with unnoticed faulty admiration. "Dick's just so sweet. He just...swept me off my feet," you say, fighting back a cringe, but the sight of Blondie's scowl and Jason's stiff posture makes it all worth it. 

Dick shifts his eyes down to yours; you give him a quick wink, and he nods lightly, pulling you closer to his side.

He would do just about anything to get under Jason's skin. 

"She flatters me," Dick beams. "She's the real charmer."

You smile brightly, your eyes moving between Blondie's perplexed eyes and Jason's narrowed ones.

"Didn't think you two talked," Jason grumbled, his tone simultaneously skeptical and sour, his eyes never leaving Dick's face. 

"Yeah, I can't believe we haven't talked sooner." You smiled, your gaze shifting from Dick's bright eyes to Jason, noticing his knuckles turning white around his champagne glass. 

Got him.

"I can't believe I let you keep her to yourself, Jason. She's a great conversationalist," Dick chimes with a slight smirk at Jason's irritation.

Oh. Dick is having way too much fun. 

"I'm aware," Jason continently says, taking a sip of his alcohol. 

"Even better baker—what is it you made me the other day?" Dick questions, turning slightly to face you. 

Your eyes widen in surprise at his improvisation skills, your brain slightly scrambling before you find the words. 

Hell, if the whole superhero thing didn't work out, he could make a killing as an actor.

"Brownies," you spout after a moment.

"You made this idiot brownies?" Jasom suspires, clearly vexed. 

"I did," you smile, inwardly enjoying his apparent displeasure. 

Jason moves to speak but is quickly interrupted by Blondie.

"I'll have to have some shortbread cookies made for you, Jason," she says, smugness oozing as she pulls him closer to her side. 

Right like he would ever eat—

"I love shortbread," Jason says with a wide grin.

"You hate shortbread. You've always hated shortbread," you sputter out without much forethought. 

"Maybe I like them now," Jason shrugs, a sly smirk growing.

Your eyes narrow slightly before they widen a little in remembrance. "Oh, Dick," you tug on his arm to catch his attention. "I almost forgot you left your jacket at my apartment the other day," you prompt.

"Why was he at your apartment?" Jason instantly says, eyes staring daggers into Dick's.

"Just hanging out," Dick answers plainly, his lips quipping only slightly.

"Well, you two sure seem...close," Bondie quips, sipping champagne. 

"Yeah," Jason mutters through gritted teeth. "They do."

As you sip, your eyes leer over Jason's face over your glass of champagne.

His jaw is slightly clenched, and his eyes are narrowed.

Jason Todd, jealous?

What a sight.

"Speaking of apartments," Blondie breaks the silence, turning her head towards Jason. "Daddy just bought me a new one in SoHo. You should stop by," she says before she follows with a wink.

"Oh?" Jason hums lowly, clearly still a little irritated.

You let out a low scoff. "SoHo's kind of a detour, no?"

"It's not too far from here," Blondie says, somewhat defensively. "Plus, I wouldn't mind a long car ride with you," she brings her manicured finger up to run seductively across the pocket of Jason's tailored suit.

You tasted a slight coppery taste, only then realizing you had bit down so hard on your cheek you had drawn blood.

"If you two wanted to head out now, we wouldn't blame you," Dick remarks.

You whip your head around to face his, mouth agape in surprise.

"Would give us a chance to leave, too," Dick finishes, sending a wink your way.

"Together?" Jason poses, tilting his head to the side. 

"Of course," Dick says cooly. 

As you look back at Jason, a tiny flicker of amusement glints in your eyes. 

You can see the gears in his brain turning.

"That's a great idea, Dick," Blondie chimes. "Let's get a head start."

You breathed a shallow breath before swallowing hard, looking Jason straight in the eye.

"Jason," you murmur, voice almost pleading.

"Yeah," he simply says, barreling his way over to you and grabbing your forearm.

"Where are you two going?" Dick asks, a shit-eating grin growing on his face.

"Move, Dick," you say with much more venom than intended.

"Move it, Grayson," Jason spits simultaneously, pushing past his brother.

His arm is tight around your forearm, guiding you out of the room. 

Dick throws his arms up in defeat. "What the hell did I do?"

"Where are they going?" Blondie asks, noticeably irked. 

Dick turns to look at her, pursing his lips slightly, and sighs. 

"Just—do you wanna dance?" He begrudgingly extends his hand.

Blondie perks up almost immediately, grasping his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor.

"She's so gonna owe me," Dick mutters, referring to you, as he is being dragged to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Jason had led you down a hallway into a nearby broom closet and locked the door behind him. 

"You know, my parents don't think you're a good influence," you say casually as Jason's lips graze your neck. 

"Is that so?" He murmurs against your skin while your fingers thread through his slicked-back hair, holding him in place.

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding along. 

The feeling of his hot mouth on such a sensitive area feels tantalizing. 

"They think you're a very bad boy, Jason," you tease before whining as his hand wanders to fondle your ass over your dress. 

You feel him laugh against your skin as his hand skims up your back to grasp for your zipper, pulling it down. 

"What do they think I'm gonna do?" He asks, slipping the front of your dress down as you reach for his tie, pulling him to your lips.

"Make me a bad girl," you murmur against his skin. 

His lips quip in amusement before he pulls back and quickly slips his tie off. "You already are a bad girl, Baby."

You let out a small laugh as you reach out to pull his suit jacket off, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his white collared shirt underneath, before bringing your hand to rest over your heart dramatically. "Me? No. Never!"

He lets out a low laugh that has your stomach in knots as he slips off the collared shirt. 

"Don't think I didn't notice that little game you were playing," he mutters, slipping your dress down to the pool around your ankles.

"You're a little shit starter."

"I was simply evening my odds," you simply say, stepping over your dress and using your foot to push it to the side as Jason unzips his slacks. 

You tilt your head. "She your little girlfriend or something?"

He tilts his head up, mouth opening in amusement. "Come on. You take me for a cheater?" He simply asks, slipping his slacks off. 

"I take you for a lot of things," you begin, pulling him closer by his wrist to press your lips to his. "But a cheater isn't one of them."

He tips his head in appreciation before hungrily engulfing your lips with his. 

"Don't tell me your parents think Dickie would be better for you?" He murmurs in between breaths. 

Your fingers entangled in his hair yet again, pulling him impossibly closer. "Actually, yeah," you suspire. "Or Roy."

He pulls back slightly. "Harper?" Disgust is apparent in his tone.

"Hell, he's worse than me."

You let out a breathy laugh before it contorts to a breathy moan as Jason's pointer and middle fingers skim over your clothed cunt. 

"Besides, neither of them could tame this greedy pussy," he rumbles, fingers delicately moving, pressing up against your clit. "No one could."

You let out a whimper as his fingers move his ease in and out of you, your underwear adding another layer of stimulation. 

"Well, no one....except me," he dips his head to hover over your ear, lips barely brushing the skin. "Yeah?"

You don't respond.

You were too focused on his fingers moving in you and his warm breath fanning your ear. 

"Say it, Baby," he coos as his pointer and middle fingers tweak your clit. 

"Say I'm the only one who can tame this greedy pussy."

You grip his shoulders tight, shamelessly rocking yourself against his fingers to gain more friction.

Your breathy moans shoot directly into his ear as he quickens his movements. 

"Say it," he commands, low and gravelly. "Or I won't make you come."

"Okay—shit," you stutter, trying so hard to get the words out in between pants. "You're the only—one," you begin through gritted teeth. "Who can, can—tame this," his movements pick up at your cooperation. "Greedy pussy," you whine out, grinding your body down on his fingers. 

"What a good girl you are," he praises before, to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out entirely. Your eyes widen in anger, mouth contorting to reprimand him before he moves to slip his slacks and boxers off entirely, revealing his painfully hard erection.

"I'm gonna make you come, Baby. Don't worry," he assures, voice breathy. "But you're gonna come around me."

You release a shallow breath at his words.

Sure, your orgasm had dissipated when he pulled his fingers out, but, fuck, was it back now. 

He leans his head down to press a deep kiss to your lips before his hands move to grip the back of your thighs, easing you up and pushing you against a side wall. 

Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist as his fingers slip into your panties, pulling them to the side to make room for his cock. 

His eyes flick to yours, raising slightly—you sure?

You give him a quick nod before he slips himself into your slit, which was already so slick—ready for him. 

His head goes back at the contact, gripping your hips tighter to keep you in place.

You rock your hips, muttering a curse as he moves against your aching clit. 

"Was he really your date?" Jason props unexpectantly, moving his hands down to grip your ass as he plows into you much deeper. 

"Wha—Dick?" You exasperate, unsure of why his brother was now a topic. 

"Well, yeah," he breathes. "Unless you have some—some other date I don't know about," he pants through labored breaths. 

"I—why are we talking about this when you're inside me?" Your voice is already hoarse as you scramble to grip his neck tighter.

"Fuck. I like that," he groans before returning to the topic. "Just—tell me. Please," he pleads.

"No, Jason." You're surprised you found enough breath to speak. "I don't even talk to him like that," you say honestly.

A slight grin grows on his lips at the admission as his pace quickens.

"And Blondie?" You spit out.

"Blondie?" A cheeky smirk grows on his lips at the nickname before his face turns serious. "Hardly know her."

You give him a slight nod, clearly satisfied with his answer.

He leans his head down to lay in the crook of your neck, groaning and curling into your skin as he drills into you.

"Shit," you curse, starting to feel the build-up of tension in your lower stomach.

"I know, Baby. I know," He croaks into your neck. "Me too."

It only takes him a couple more thrusts for him to groan and spew curses, and you whine and moan as you both simultaneously come. 

After you both recuperate, he eases himself out of you, hissing, as he places you down gently, even helping you slip your dress back up and zipping it up, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder blade in the process.

He slips his boxers and slacks back on as you grab his collared shirt and slip it on him, delicately clasping each button. 

You snicker when you ease the zipper to his slacks up as he groans at your touch. 

"You are a bad girl," he jests, slipping his jacket and tie back on.

You let out a breathy laugh as his hands find your waist, pulling you toward him. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple. 

"Also," he begins his voice a low murmur against your skin. "I hate shortbread."  

You smile and rise onto your tiptoes, hovering near his ear. "I know," you whisper before pulling back, your eyes locked onto his.  

"I've always known."

a/n: lmaoo poor dick

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 2

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make nothing into something for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). lando is abusive, full stop but like many survivors of abuse, it takes reader a bit to claw herself out of this. as a survivor of abuse myself, I am doing my best to give this story line the most respect and care that i can. please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. my sincerest apologies for not putting this in the warnings at first. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. sorry bubs. swearing. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 4k

Chapter 1 Master List

“You didn’t have to walk me home, you know. It’s only a few blocks.” You tell Max as you press into his side, shivering against the cold breeze of the Monaco night. It had been warm when you left the apartment earlier that evening but now the air held a chill that had you wishing you had taken Carles up on his offer to drive you back home. 

Around you, the city buzzes, a hive of activity on a Friday night but the extent of your world consists of only you and Max. 

“Of course I did. It’s late and cold and there was no way you were walking home alone.” 

“Max, we live in Monaco, I’m perfectly safe.” You joke but secretly, you’re glad Max had offered to walk you home. 

You’d never admit it but you liked being around him, his demeanor had always been calming to you and tonight, your nerves were frayed more than usual. It was probably thanks to the whispers you had heard at the gallery, asking not so quietly where Lando was as you walked around and spoke to the guests. He had never showed up and while you were disappointed he hadn’t showed, you weren’t quite surprised either. There had been something in his tone when you left that evening that had anxiety curling your gut before you even stepped out of the apartment. You hated to even think it, but you somewhat suspected he had never planned on showing up to the show at all that night but you wouldn’t ever put a voice to those thoughts.   

“Fine then.” Max huffs, but there’s no venom in his voice. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some extra time with you, okay? I feel like we never see each other anymore.” Max lets the unsaid end of that sentence hang in the air: ‘Because you’re with Lando now.’  

Your heart aches at the truth of his words. A lot of your friendships had taken a hit over the last three years. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, but your circle had shrunk significantly since you had started dating Lando and it shocked you how you never had realized it until now. It had started small, with Lando saying he just wanted to spend the weekend only with you while he had a rare weekend off and then slowly morphed into him only wanting to spend time with his friends so if you wanted to see him you had to spend what little time you got with him with his friends as well. Slowly, your friends stopped calling and inviting you places because the answer was always the same: ‘sorry, Lando has plans this weekend and I’m going to tag along with him!’ Or just a straight up ‘no, not this time.’ 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, biting your lip as guilt creeps up your neck. “It’s been a rough year.” 

Max hates the regret that courses through him. He shouldn’t make you feel like this, shouldn’t voice his opinion of what he sees happening in front of him. He can’t help the frustration that bubbles to the surface when you talk like that though. He knows exactly where it comes from and it kills Max knowing that there is one person solely responsible for dimming that sparkle you’ve always had. 

Max stops in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a few tourists to shout in surprise when they have to dodge the Dutchman’s tall frame. A frown finds itself onto his face as he looks down at you. Your heart stutters to a stop, you’ve seen this look before and it has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. 

“I hate when you do that.” He can’t help himself, he’s kept his peace for far too long but the fact that  Lando missed tonights show has been burning a hole in his chest all night and the embers were about to flare to life. 

Panic squeezes at your chest. Around you, people are shooting glances your way as you both stand in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. You only have a few moments before someone notices it is you and Max Verstappen and start taking pictures. Pictures that will inevitably show up on some gossip instagram account and cause you more trouble than they’re worth. 

“Do what?” Despite your desire to not be seen arguing with Max, you can’t help the question that slips out. 

“When you apologize for things that aren’t your fault. Anyone with eyes can see who the problem is in your relationship and it’s not you, Dovie.” Max’s words come out more harsher than they intend and he knows he’s approaching a line that probably shouldn’t be crossed tonight. 

You can’t bring your eyes up to meet Max’s heated gaze but you can feel him looking at you. Those blue eyes you used to think you could get lost in when you were younger. Before everything changed. Before you met Lando and he swept you right off your feet. 

“Charles told me about the apartment.” Max confesses. Maybe if you know you have others supporting your decision to leave, it’ll make it easier. He hopes that his support would mean something to you.

Your stomach plummets to your toes, cheeks burning red with shame. “Charles should keep his big mouth shut.” You bite out, fists working themselves into a ball at your sides. 

Max’s eyes narrow at your outburst. There was the fire that you’d been missing. Something in Max heaves a sigh of relief, you’re still in there. You’re on the cusp of getting that fire back and Max can almost see you reach for it deep in the pit of your belly. You’re so close to the edge and Max knows you well enough to know when to back off.  

“I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I won’t press. I just wanted you to know that I miss you.” 

Max momentarily wonders if he’s gone too far when he sees tears well up in your eyes. His heart squeezes at the thought of being the one to make you cry. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” You sob, no longer caring who sees you or what could possibly make it back to Lando. “I know you’re friends with him and I shouldn’t put you in the middle of our mess.” 

Max’s brows knit together in confusion. The fact that you would question his loyalty to you over Lando simply baffles him. “I’ve been in your life longer than I’ve known Lando and you’ll be in my life long after he’s gone.” Max lets that last sentence hang in the air, the prophecy of his words clinging to your skin. 

“Max.” You whisper, floored by the fierceness of his tone and the sincerity of his words. 

Panic claws at him. He’s gone too far, revealed too much. He can’t do that with you now, not when you’re already so fragile. You don’t need that from him and he knows it. Back off, something in him orders and alarm bells clang to life. 

“All I’m saying is,” Max keeps his tone deliberately light. “If you need a friend to talk to, I’m here. Always.” 

You nod, appreciating how he backed off when he saw you panicking. 

Max takes your elbow before turning you around, pointing you in the direction of your apartment. “Come on, let’s get you home, okay?” 

As Max walks you the rest of the way home, Lando is still set up in his gaming room playing Tarkov with Max on his stream. As they begin another raid, Lando notices Max’s stream start to pick up at a much faster pace than it’s been running all evening. He’s been streaming for hours now, since before you left the apartment and while he knows the opening should be wrapping up right about now, he has a hard time caring. Those things are always so boring and he never understands the art, even if it is nice to be photographed out with you and your brothers. 

“What is this link everyone’s spamming chat? You all know if you start spamming, we’re going to mute you.” Max asks, frustration evident in his voice. 

Lando glances over at the chat screen on his second monitor and sees his name flying by along with what looks like an instagram link. He knows he shouldn’t click on dodgy links but curiosity gets the best of him because at the same time the chat starts to explode, so do his notifications from Instagram. “The fuck?” He mumbles, ignoring Max who is reading the chat as they come in. 

“First Verstappen steals your championship, now he’s stealing your girl? Chat, what the fuck are you all on about?” 

Lando can feel the heat rising in his face and he’s instantly thankful that he’s got his video off. He mutes himself quickly too before texting Max, who is desperately trying to regain control of the chat. The link finally opens and Lando nearly drops his phone. He’s been tagged in a series of photos that show you and Max walking out of the gallery together, then you two stopped in the middle of the sidewalk embracing with you clearly looking upset, and then a final one showing you two walking away together. 

Anger flares bright and sharp in his chest as he looks at the photos. You’re making him look like a fool, galavanting around town with the likes of Max Verstappen late at night, especially after all he went thorough with Max last season. What the fuck were you thinking?

“Alright, chat I think that’s going to be the end of the stream tonight. This is why we can’t have nice things!” 

Max ends the stream without a second thought, knowing that Lando is going to be incandescent with rage after seeing those photos and reading all the comments. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source First he steals the championship, now it looks like Max Verstappen is making a play for @/lando's girl. Uh ooooooh... user9928 I mean, she looked pretty upset in the other pictures I saw leaving the gallery. Lando didn't show to support her so... user298 paddock bunnies gonna bunny >>>user223 she's literally known Max almost her entire life??? user110 this isn't a thing...her and Max have been friends for YEARS. Leave the poor girl alone user1008 lando's loss, she's amazing. user918 idk but if my girl got caught getting a kiss from another guy, I'd go scorched earth >>>user028 SERIOUSLY I am floored by the people defending her??? Like??? >>>user928 maybe if Lando showed up for his girlfriend, Max wouldn't have had to step in and comfort her...?

As Lando struggles to come to grips with what he just saw, you and Max are standing in the lobby of your apartment as you desperately search for your keys. “Fuck, I think I forgot my keys upstairs.” 

“Just give Lando a call, I’m sure he’s still up.” 

You shrug, cheeks heating. “He sometimes gets tunnel vision when he’s streaming and forgets to check his phone.” You admit, not wanting to go more into detail because you know how bad it’ll sound if you have to tell Max that sometimes Lando will completely ignore you while he’s streaming. What you also don’t tell him is that this has happened to you before and all three times, you’d had to spend the night at either Jade or Charles’ house because he had been on stream so late you had nearly fallen asleep in the hallway. 

Max levels a glare at you, unable to believe what you’re saying. “Well, lets both go up then and maybe we can get his attention by knocking.” 

Anxiety ripples through you as Max starts off towards the elevators, giving you no other choice but to follow him. It’s a quiet ride up to your floor as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, unable to even attempt to make small talk with Max. You know the facade of your entire relationship is about to be lifted right in front of one of your oldest friends and you don’t quite know how to make it stop. 

When you raise your hand to knock, your heart hammers in your chest so wildly you momentarily worry Max is going to be concerned for your health. Much to your surprise, it only takes a few short moments for the door to swing open so fast you nearly stumble back. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Lando spits when his eyes land on Max. The venom in his voice is so shocking you need to take a step away, unintentionally stepping closer to Max, which seems to set Lando off even more. Rage flares in his eyes at your proximity to his on-track rival. 

“That’s a wild way to say ‘hey man, thanks for walking my girlfriend home in the dark because I couldn’t be bothered to show up to her art show’ but you’re welcome.” Max grits out, taking one step closer to you as if he might need to get between you and Lando. 

Tension hangs thick between the three of you as Lando seethes where he stands in the door. 

“Max, it’s okay.” You whisper, shame lighting a painful spark of fire deep in your chest. This was going to get out of control so quickly. 

“No, it’s not and you know it.” Max turns back to Lando now, eyes blazing with a level of anger that is miles more intense than the look Lando is giving you. “And why the fuck are you coming at her so hot? All I did was walk her home.” 

Lando scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Because this was just posted by almost a dozen gossip accounts and was being spammed all over Fewtrell’s chat while we were streaming.” 

You take the phone Lando is brandishing in your face and go pale. The carousel of photos in the new post are pretty damning, you have to admit but you would have thought that your boyfriend of all people would know better than to blindly believe a series of grainy photos above trusting his own girlfriend. 

“Lando…” You sooth, arm reaching out to touch his elbow. You wince when he pulls away from you. “You of all people should know how those things are twisted. Max was just walking me home and we were talking, that’s it.” 

“But why was he hugging you?” He shows you the third picture of Max hugging you after you had started crying out on the street. You had to admit you were kind of impressed with how fast those photos got out, but it was Monaco after all and you hand’t exactly been discreet when you were upset with Max. 

“Because she was upset you didn’t show up for her. Again!” Max shouts and you flinch.

 The words slice a fresh wound across your heart. The fact that Max knew that this wasn’t the first time upsets you more than you think it should. You’re not entirely sure why Max’s opinion of you matters so much but you’re not quite willing to examine those feelings yet. 

Lando’s glare swings away from you and back onto Max. “Because I’ve been to a million of them and they’re all the same. Same pretentious people pretending they have taste. Once you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all.” 

The words that come out of your boyfriend’s mouth have you audibly gasping, hand flying to your throat. “Lando.” You whisper, pain and shock coursing through your voice. 

You swear you feel a brush of fingertips on the small of your back but the touch is so light and so quick you think you’ve imagined it. 

Something flickers behind your boyfriend’s eyes then and it’s almost like he realizes he’s gone a step too far. His shoulders sag and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry baby.” Lando reaches for you and before you can step away, he pulls you into his chest. He doesn’t miss the way you stiffen in his embrace though and neither does Max. “Please come inside and we can talk about it alone, okay?” He whispers, glaring at Max, clearly dismissing him. 

The way his arms used to feel around you was comforting, you’d seek his affection when you were anxious or upset and he would always take care of you but somewhere along the line, the affection you craved stopped being handed out so easily. Now, you craved it but only because if he was touching you it meant he wasn’t mad at you and maybe this time it would be different. Every time he showed you this kind of affection you hoped that this would be the time he would change. 

It never was. 

“Thank you for walking me home, Max. I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” 

Worry lines crease the spot between his brows as he frowns. Everything in his body is screaming to put up a fight and not let you go inside with Lando. He knows if Charles were here and had just witnessed what he had, there was no way Lando would be leaving this building in anything other than a body bag but he wasn’t Charles and he didn’t have any entitlement to you. He wanted to fight but you weren’t his to fight for. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay Dovie?” 

Lando’s arms tighten around you at the nickname. He hates it and Max knows it. “She won’t need to, I’ve got her.” 

“You sure about that, mate?” Max asks, one brow tipping up in question. 

Without waiting for a reply, Max turns on his heel and walks towards the elevator. In his pocket, his fingers curl around his phone because the moment he gets out of the building he knows exactly who he’s going to be calling: Charles. 

As soon as Max leaves and your behind closed doors, the mask slips again. 

“What the fuck were you thinking, walking home with Max fucking Verstappen? And hugging him?” Lando is pacing the floor of your living room as you stand there, helpless to say anything against his raging. 

It’s usually like this when he gets angry with you and you’ve gotten good at being quiet while he rages. You have to let him work out all the anger and eventually you know he’ll calm down and apologizes for losing his temper. You’ve seen this before and you know exactly what to do, how to humor the angry beast that has surfaced once again. 

“Lando, it wasn’t like that and you know it.” You fight to keep the exasperation out of your voice, knowing that would just set him off even more. “I was alone, my brothers were going in the opposite direction, and Max offered. That’s it! It was completely innocent.” Despite yourself, you try to reason with him.

“You should have just gone home with your brothers then instead of putting yourself in that position.” He snaps and you glare at him. 

“You would have rather me not slept here at home tonight than take an offer from a friend to walk me home? All because you didn’t follow through with what you said you’d do?” 

You know you’re pushing him and Lando doesn’t like to be pushed. Your conversation with Charles two weeks ago flickers through your mind. How you deserve better and it strikes you then that everyone but you can see it. Everyone around you, everyone that loves you can see how bad he is for you, how poorly he treats you and how much you’ve changed since you started dating him. 

You supposed that if you had changed for the better, maybe everyone who loved you wouldn’t have anything to say. Don’t people change for the people they love all the time? You were sure they did but you weren’t sure you liked the change you saw in yourself anymore. You couldn’t fight it, this change that felt like you were wearing shoes that were three sizes too small for your feet. Like you had outgrown yourself in a way that wasn’t okay and you somehow needed to find your way back to who you were before Lando. Before he broke you. 

“And avoid you causing social media chaos that I’m going to be dealing with for weeks now?” Lando sneers, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down his nose at you. “Yeah, absolutely.” 

You laugh, cold and bitter, as you shake your head. “Thats real nice Lan, real nice.” 

“I’m just saying. Now the rumor mills are going to start up again. Whenever you’re at a race, people will be watching to see if you’re with Max again. Or maybe next time it’ll be Lewis. Or maybe you want to go a bit younger? Get a ‘friendly escort home’ from one of the rookies? I’m sure Franco would love to try his hand with you. My girlfriend, the paddock bunny being passed around.” 

The ache in your chest grows as he chooses his words carefully, barbed and sharp as glass, so they hit their intending target, cutting through you like butter and causing mortal damage.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” You whisper. “I’m sorry that the pictures hurt your feelings and were taken out of context but you don’t have to be so mean.” 

Tears threaten to spill and you will them to stop, knowing that will only fuel Lando’s fire. He loves when he upsets you like this, when he gets to tell you what a drama queen you are. Just like your brother, he would say, always whining and crying on the radio about how Carlos wasn’t being a team player and letting him win when he didn’t deserve it. 

“If I’m not the one to give you a reality check, then who will? Your entire family has coddled you for your entire life and you think you deserve some level of respect that you haven’t earned. If you deserved that kind of respect, you would have gone home with your brothers or walked home alone. People who deserve respect don’t put their relationships in jeopardy because they’re afraid to be alone at night.” 

“Put our relationship in jeopardy?” You laugh again, rolling your eyes at the audacity of what Lando is saying. “Lan, you really are being a bit over dramatic here, don’t you think? I’m sure the PR department at McLaren will take care of this by the next race, no big deal.” 

Lando laughs, dark and bitter as he takes a step towards you. You have to fight the urge not to flinch when he gets closer to you. Deep down, you know he’d never raise a hand to you but it’s hard to remember that when he gets in your face like this. “Now you expect McLaren to clean up your mess?” He hisses. “God, you really are a spoiled little girl, aren’t you?” 

“I’m just trying to find a solution to the problem that I seem to have caused.” You snap back, courage flaring in your chest as you stand up a little straighter. Max’s words from earlier play back in your head: ‘anyone with eyes can see who the problem is in your relationship’. “What if I come to the next race? If the two of us turn up in the paddock together, that will help quiet the rumors, don’t you think?” 

Lando narrows his eyes, “So you can get more attention from Max? Absolutely not. I’ll have McLaren handle this, okay? Just forget about it.” 

You want to scream at his solution because it was the same exact thing you had literally just suggested and been laughed at. But that was the way Lando was. If it wasn’t his idea, it was the worst thing you could have suggested. As long as it was his idea though, it was brilliant and the perfect solution to everything that was wrong. You should have anticipated this coming but you knew it was useless to fight with him.��

All at once, your body is overcome with this total wash of exhaustion. Total mental and physical exhaustion grips at your throat and you sway on your feet. “I’m going to go to bed.” You choke you. “In the guest room.” You tack on before turning on your heel and walking away from the fight like you do every time. Lando always gets the last word and as he stands there alone in the living room he feels like he’s won this one. He’ll have to call Sophie in the morning to get her to start working on damage control but for now? For now, he’s sure you realize your mistakes and you won’t put a toe out of line like that for a long time. 

Little does he know that all he’d done tonight was push you past your breaking point. 

(Quick note!!! If you want to be added to the tag list, I absolutely will but when you request that, can you pleeeeease let me know if you want to be on my general tag list or just the specific fic you're commenting on. ❤️)

Tag list: @shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164 @ilove-tswizzle

[tuttle-did-it]

I am not going to stone you for this and I accept your position. This is not my position.

I do not and have never used TikTok. I have been off all social media for ten years for the exception of reactivating my old tumblr account a couple of years ago. Mainly for M*A*S*H.

I have no idea whether it is dangerous or safe— because ALL social media has a severe danger of misinformation, and I think that’s going to get far far worse with instagram, Facebook and twitter all getting rid of fact checking. There is no critical thinking in FB and the opposite of critical thinking in twitter.

We’ve already seen how they can impact elections— 45 would have never been elected without the ability to spread this much hate across these platforms. Now they are removing fact checking and the ability to report hate speech against queers. It’s going to get so, so much worse with the propaganda.

I think they are all POISON. Especially with Musk and Zuckerberg being so tightly aligned with 45, I think this is very dangerous. I don’t think the misinformation really moves that much faster on TT than on twitter, instagram or Facebook. In the end, the result is the same— we still got Brexit because of social media, you still got 45 because of social media - and I think twitter and Facebook are MORE dangerous being run by psychopaths like Zuckerberg and Musk than TT is being run by the Chinese.

I think TT is something that is being blamed for something that is happened across all platforms— though I would argue it is happening the very least here in tumblr cos mostly we’re are all talking about Spirk and J/7 and M*A*S*H and Interview with the Vampire. At least, that’s my corner.

I care about two things for TT—

1) the way 45 it’s using it to control the younger audiences. 45 saying he’s going to re-instate TT, or ‘just ignore that law,’ I want to make sure people remember that he was one of the ones demanding it was shut down. So if he does somehow get it back up, all these people who are going to cheer that he ‘saved’ their favourite app, just know he wanted it banned in the first place. He’s only going back on it now because he’s seen how many young people use it and how angry they are, and thinks he can lock in their support if he reinstates it. So if you really want TT back, just know you’re being played by this idiot to garner further support with the younger audiences. If someone takes away all the food in your house and then puts it back you don't thank them. If someone steals your phone or laptop and then hands it back you don't thank them. this isn't that hard.

2) multiple friends who are academics have worked specifically in the impact social media can have on people, or worked in the area of war— specifically in the Middle East— have told me that TT was the best place where real people in Palestine were able to show what was really going on there in real time. That TT is being shut down so that people no longer have access to show what is going on to the very people whose governments are giving BILLIONS to the people who are committing this genocide against Palestinians. I do not know if this it’s true. This is what my academic friends who have used TT to keep up with what is happening in Palestine have told me. If this is true, and the real reason it was shut down, that out is to silence people who are protesting against Israel committing genocide by silencing them, I think this is horrific. Again, I don’t know if it’s true or not, I just know that I have had multiple friends who have followed everything going on in Palestine say this.

I don’t know if TT is dangerous. I do think this ban on TT is going to have an impact on the ‘free speech’ Americans claim to care so much about. I know that Facebook and twitter are very dangerous because they are aligned with 45. I KNOW that 45 having instagram, Facebook, twitter and TT in his pocket is CRITICALLY DANGEROUS. I am convinced that TT is being used in a game of tug of war to try to control audiences one way or the other— and that’s 45 has claimed to be pulling on both sides of the rope.

China does not have to use TT to destroy America. America is managing that very well on its own— with help from Zuckerberg and Musk and 45. From everything I’ve seen, these three are far more dangerous than TT or China.

Reminder for when he “saves” it. He was the one who wanted this, and now he gets to be the hero and win favour with young constituents. Don’t give him the credit for fixing his own problem.

[takes1]

Hiii, I love all ur fics sm! Ur literally so talented omgg

I wanted to request a fic where Oikawa and short/academically inclined reader are friends with benefits. I think it would be fun to see them get jealous and tiptoe around their feelings for each other since they don’t wanna ruin what they have. Can it also be nsfw and could u add some angst pls? Thank youu!

f*cking jealous!oikawa in secret

hi! thank you so much!! hope this interpretation is alright!

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / short!reader / jealous!oikawa / popular x loser trope / jock x nerd trope / tutor!reader / subby-switch!oikawa / switch!reader / oikawa with a nerd fetish / needy!oikawa towards the end / kind of hate fucking? / oikawa being mean / riding / implied oral / fluff, angst, and smut / reader with glasses / 1.8k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines

"You're sooo lucky to tutor him, (Y/n),"

Your hopeless friend sighed, scrolling through Oikawa's Instagram for the upteenth time.

"I'd give anything to spend that much time alone with him."

It was a little creepy, but you loved her. Other girls fawning over your secret fuck-buddy was something you had to -begrudgingly- get used to. It pained you more when it was somebody so close, but nothing was worth coming clean about it.

The last thing you needed during senior year was a target on your back.

"Oh, he's such a prick!" You wave her off and grab your drink from the café counter with a smaller, pleasant, 'Thank you.'

The table was more of a C-curved booth that your group had to shimmy into. The shape made it hard to get in and out of, rather serving as an ultra-cozy prison to focus on your studies, your caffeine, and your snacks.

As a way of not letting you off the hook so easily- your friends cracked open their notes, laptops, textbooks, while entertaining the 'absurd' idea that any of you could actually date Johsai's least eligible bachelor.

A bunch of star-students with decorated academic achievements was the only impressive thing about the patrons at your favorite, quiet, coffee house. With- maybe-- the exception of money in eyeglass prescriptions, or luxurious stationery that decorated the table.

Your voice stood as the most displeased, the most troubled, of the discussion. You flipped through the chapters, halfway forgetting what page you needed to be on, because you got caught up in his shortcomings.

"He doesn't listen- he takes my hours away from people who might actually need it- he's, obviously, got the biggest ego I've ever seen--, Oh- hold up."

It was a struggle to flip to your page and rummage around your pocket for your buzzing phone.

"Well, I'm glad somebody's got some common sense-," Was the only guy in your group, disgruntled at all the Oikawa-talk.

Oikawa's name flashed across your screen. Your body seized and you hugged it to your chest.

"Woah!"

"You good?"

"I'm just--gonna take this outside," You cleared your throat and sank all the way to the floor, crawling over shoes and bags from under the table to get far away from your friends.

It was on the second-to-last ring by the time you hurried outside. You hated him for many things, but the wind picked up, spraying a chilly mist all over your clothes, and you couldn't help but associate him with the feeling. Your hoodie was still inside, forgotten in your haste.

"What? I'm busy right now." You spat, shivering already.

"Don't fog your glasses up, princess."

His easy, light tone particularly bothered you. You groaned.

"Get to the point, pretty boy, I'm busy--,"

"I know. I just called to say you should stop talking about me. Reads as a bit... obsessive, don't you think?"

The breath you took to poke a hole in his 'obsessive' argument gave way to nothing- except a silent realization.

"You're- where are you?"

You squinted at the dark window, but it was one-way.

Oikawa watched you turn to the parking lot, smirking, from inside the cafe.

He sighed, a real airy, fake one; the one he knew you loved to hear from him in bed.

His voice was lower, closer to the receiver. "I thought you said you were busy?"

The audacity to call you obsessive, mixing with the adrenaline his sudden proximity shot into your system. You pressed 'end call.'

When you re-entered the cafe, you spotted him immediately. He was walking back to his booth, one away from yours, from the restrooms. Though you both saw each other, there was hardly an indication that you knew one another at all, thanks to so much practice.

It was, still, hard to watch him slide into a seat right next to some other girl.

So, he heard you talking shit about him while on a date, then left her to go call you? You rejoined your booth, and spared a mean glance over at him, like the absolute garbage he was. He returned it with lesser intensity.

-

You'd think, with his cock in your hand, he wouldn't bring up the events of that morning. It put him in a less-than ideal position.

"Y'knoww,"

He hadn't said anything yet, but your eyes were rolling. Used to the attitude, and equipped with a firm point to make, he continued:

"You should ditch- ahh, that little loser in your little friend group."

A little roll of your hips had him wincing- spreading the slickness all across his dick, from all the work he had put in, already.

You cocked your head at him, "Oh, yeah?"

Oikawa's eyes rolled back into his skull, a groan at how hot you looked, grinding on him. You were his perfect, nerdy little secret. He specifically wanted you to keep your glasses on today. It was a thing. You didn't understand it in its entirety, but it likely had a connection to the reason why he opted for a lowkey arrangement.

"And you should ditch that shallow whore--,"

"Oh my god!" He gasped, surprised to hear such a thing uttered from your mouth, "Fuuuck you're so jealous-!"

"Me?"

It was completely unfair and utter bullshit that he acted like his jealousy was nonexistent. To him, only you could get out of your pay grade. He pretended to forget that the only reason you were fucking multiple times a week was because he 'needed' you so bad. You felt a little exploited.

"That's so hot-aughhh!"

His big, strong hands were forcing your cunt against his slippery, thick cock, since you wouldn't move quite right.

"M-mmh-! Tha-t's-," You struggled, voice breaking, hands against his muscular chest, "Not- mh, fair."

Your textbooks, his assignment due in 40 minutes, were neglected on the floor across his bedroom. Your tutoring was basically roleplay. It turned him on as soon as you got to talking about the relevant class material, telling him that the work he had already done was wrong.

It turned you on too, to an extent. You liked that you got him stiff without trying, without touching. You loved when he pretended like he wasn't, but bounced his leg right next to yours, cleared his throat before every response, got caught staring like some depraved creature.

You were exactly his type. He was the hottest guy you'd ever met. Something had to give.

"I- ah, don't wanna--," He fucked you hard, like you had a ring on your finger, "See you talk to that loser again."

He couldn't stand the threat of being second place. A guy with such a precious ego needed to feel like you wouldn't leave him. While your social structure may have harbored the suggestion that this would be the case, it wasn't an accurate representation of your feelings.

The whimper lacing his voice grew as you placed a firm hand around his throat.

"Don't- date- other girls." You threatened through gritted teeth and bitten-back moan.

It was just your luck that the most ridiculous peacock of a man would have such a great dick, give you such great head, that you couldn't live and let this fucked-up situationship die. The timer of the semester ticked away, standing as an informal end to it, so neither of you had the gall to cut things off before you needed to.

He whined under your touch, bottoming out hard, keeping himself as deep as he could get.

The lonely bastard draped his arms around you and pulled you close.

"Mmh- you know I gotta- h-ah, keep up appearances for us, princess," His quiet mutter, spilled across your shoulder, forced a shiver down your spine.

His sheets smelled just like him.

You loosened your grip and decided to play with his soft, lush locks, taking in his scent, his touch- that feeling. Like you were his, but not in some twisted, shameful way.

You wanted one of his shirts but it wasn't that simple.

For the moment, you chased the dream, while he was still gentle and peppering you in kisses.

Maybe in some perfect world, he would let go of his status, be a little less weird about your intelligence, and you could have a boyfriend instead of a glorified dildo.

He sounded close, so you fucked him back, hand back on his throat; you wondered how many girls would be disappointed to know that Oikawa Tohru didn't last very long in bed.

"You wanna cum, pretty boy?"

A wince at your rough, loaded kiss. His grip was iron, his strength speaking enough for how mute you got him.

It was so quiet, so pitiful: "Pl-ease,"

God, he looked so cute all fucked-out. He only looked at you like that. Like he never wanted you to leave, like he couldn't breathe without you around him, like you weren't just friends with benefits.

Too bad you were just some freaky nerd-fetish.

He pulled out and you sat, buzzed, on his drained cock, more than satisfied with the sight of cum all over his stomach.

When you pushed up your fallen glasses, his cock twitched accordingly and reminded you of the only reason you existed to him at all.

Kissing, cleaning up, cuddling, all of the winding down was still commonplace between you. He wanted attention, you wanted time to chill before you had to go home. He even made it difficult to get dressed and out the door.

Today, he kept his arms around your waist when you attempted to get up, after 20 minutes of cuddling.

"Pleaaase stay," He whined, unable to hold you as firm as he wanted for fear he would hurt you.

You smiled.

"I need to study more tonight."

"Study here!" He pouted.

Right. Then this would happen all over again- because as soon as he would see a pencil between your teeth, he'd try to replace it with his cock.

"Really study," You pried his fingers off and got dressed.

He watched for a time, but needed to assert himself more in order to feel like he wasn't useless, or forgettable. He joined to get dressed, too, and kept a close eye on your seemingly unbothered expression.

"I'm sorry for cursing at you."

It was so unimportant that you had no idea what he was talking about.

"It's okay," Rolled off your tongue, fast.

Oikawa got twitchy. His sly attempts at dragging out your departure slipped through his fingers like sand.

"Let me help you with that," His unprompted kiss to your forehead, along with his gentle gathering of your things, left you a bit dazed.

You fixed your hair- hesitant to look at him.

"Thank you."

He insisted, like usual, to walk you home. You sighed and posed the same argument, the way you had for the past month. People would notice if you were together in any capacity. Rumors would start.

When he was done packing your books up, he was touchier, and hung over you like a cat rubbing itself all over your ankles as you walked to the door.

You rationalized that it had to be your glasses. It gave him some sort of kick. He barely let you out of his bedroom, let alone his house.

You forgot to ask for a shirt, but... maybe next time?

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[lananiscorner]

Coldest hot take that ever took, but if people can understand the meaning of the word "nostalgia" and the sentiment of "god, remember when we were kids and our biggest worry in the world was whether we could have ice cream for dessert after dinner?", then they should be able to understand the urge to consume something that hearkens back to a time when the world seemed simpler (it never was, you just had adults taking over lots of shit for you and shielding you from the worst, ideally). A time when it was good enough for you to just exist and have fun and maybe learn about the importance of courage and friendship and kindness.

Also, I think a lot of the stigma around adults consuming media for kids is that puritanical panic around "but what if these adults are gonna corrupt/groom/abuse our kids???" to which all I can say is:

1) adults who want to do that will find a way to do it even without watching My Little Pony or Steven Universe or whatever.

2) Not every adult who consumes media for kids is a pedo. See the entire topic of this post.

3) You SHOULD want your kids to interact in spaces where there are adults around as well, because learning how to interact with people who are not the same age/ethnicity/affiliation as you is actually a really important life skill.

4) It will help them learn what healthy interactions with adult strangers look like, which will make it easier for them to notice when an interaction is not healthy (e.g. why is this one user so eager to get a picture of what I'm wearing today, none of the others have ever asked me for that).

5) By having adult strangers around that are not affiliated with their parents in any way, they will have someone to reach out to in case they are actually, in real life, being groomed or abused by someone they don't trust to report to their parents (e.g. dad's best friend, mom's sister, the teacher both their parents get along with so well, etc.)

"Fun" trivia: Many years ago, my mom and I used to be part of a massive anime forum/art posting site where the average age was something like 13 or so, and thanks to both of us commenting on art work a lot, we became "that one nice lady who always says what she likes about my art" and eventually "the one nice lady who's been nice enough for long enough that I want to DM her". And you would not believe the sheer amount of kids we ran into who lived in very troubled (and sometimes seriously dangerous) homes, who did not feel safe talking to their parents and who sometimes had no frame of reference for how stuff that RL adults did to them was wrong until they interacted with us in comments and DMs and realized what healthy interactions with adults at a respectful distance looked like.

Trying to remove adults who are not being creeps from fandoms for media for kids helps exactly no one other than the actual creeps who will simply pretend that they are 12 themselves.

I really have no patience for posts talking about "adults who only watch kids' cartoons," because, like...people accuse me of "only watching kids' cartoons," despite all evidence to the contrary. It doesn't matter how much I talk about other adult media I like, if I post too many things in a row about Steven Universe or The Dragon Prince or The Owl House, people come out of the goddamn woodwork to accuse me of "only watching kids' shows."

So I really can't take people seriously when they start talking about the supposed "problem" of "adults who only watch kids' shows." Are the "adults who only watch kids' cartoons" in the room with us right now, or are you basing your entire opinion of people solely on their fandom blog? Like, come on.

It makes me think of the couple years I spent volunteering in a school library. The librarian talked a lot about how it's hurtful to enforce "reading at grade-level" on every student with no nuance. Teachers would try to force their students to check out books "at proper grade-level," instead of letting students pick out whatever they wanted (even if it was "too easy"), and it resulted in a lot of students deciding books were boring, too hard, and only good for making them feel stupid. They started to hate reading entirely, because people constantly shut them down and told them they were stupid for not reading the right things. This was especially brutal on disabled students.

I personally apply the same philosophy to adults. You don't know what someone might struggle with, you don't know what someone's history is. You might think a piece of media is "too simple," but that's your experience and your opinion. People learn and grow and experience the world at different paces, and what seems to you like a "simplistic" piece of media may be the most complex, illuminating piece of media someone else has ever had the opportunity to experience. It doesn't make them "stupid" or "childish," and believing that it does is cruel and counterproductive. You cannot wield shame as a fucking cudgel if your goal is education, support, and helping people expand their horizons.

I don't think a culture of shame is helpful. I don't think a culture of "if you like 'childish' things, it means you're too stupid for anything else" is helpful. I don't think constantly making fun of children's media does anything other than demean people--and not just the people who enjoy it, but the people who make it, too.

[gyubakeries]

𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗰𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘀 | h.js

a/n: so!! part 2 is here! thank you rie ( @okiedokrie ) and a ( @chugging-antiseptic-dye ) for supporting my insanity. this one is for u guys, my fav joshua stans 🫂

part 1

word count: 4k contents: NSFW content , joshua x afab!reader , college au , joshua records nsfw audios as a side hustle , friends to lovers , happy ending , nsfw warnings below the cut!

nsfw warnings: mdni! 18+ , protected sex , fingering (f. receiving) , multiple reader orgasms , come eating , oral sex (m. receiving) , breast play , lots of nicknames (darling, baby, beautiful, good girl)

joshua is a fairly simple guy. he’s kind and nice to everyone. he’s always down to help people if they need it. he’s got good grades, love from all his professors, and the reputation of being the ‘campus gentleman.’ he even volunteers at an animal shelter on some weekends. it’s all simple and great.

except for one secret he swears he will take to his grave. 

it’s the black and neon pink website he logs into every other week. it’s the microphone he records his moans in front of. it’s the thousands of people who pay him hundreds of dollars, on a weekly basis, just to hear him whispering dirty words to them.

it was a side job he picked up in the first year of college, when money was tight and his shifts at the local convenience store were barely able to cover his rent and student loans.

he was desperate and grasped at any chance he could get. when he stumbled across the website while trying to look for good porn, (don’t judge him, he has needs too) he made up his mind.

so, for a few weeks, he only had cup ramen for meals and used the leftover money to buy a good quality microphone. he set up his account on www. angelaudios.com, and nervously hit record for the first time.

he never looked back after that. 

joshua built a steady following of people who were just as desperate for pleasure as he was for money. he’d post audios twice a week, maybe even go live a few times if he wasn’t too busy. it worked out well for him, considering he could actually pay rent on time and afford to buy fresh ingredients to make his meals.

for each of his recordings, joshua usually needed some time and a vivid imagination to even get hard. but then, that changed when you came along.

you in your skirts and tank tops. you with your perfectly glossed lips. you and your cherry-scented perfume that joshua could only catch traces of whenever you sat next to him in your shared lectures.

after you, joshua didn’t need much motivation. he felt guilty about it every time, but he couldn’t help the natural reaction of his body whenever he thought about how he could see the swell of your breasts in the crop tops you wore, or how your perfectly manicured nails would look wrapped around him.

ShuaTalks gained a lot of traction, and he started earning more when he started posting four audios a week in the second year of college, and he had you to thank for it.

—

“so you’re telling me joshua hong records those asmr ‘POV: i’m your boyfriend and we have phone sex’ audios?” seungkwan raises an eyebrow at you, and you let your forehead slam against the table as you slump over in frustration.

“yeah, sort of,” you reply, your voice muffled because of the way your face is pressed up against the table.

“well, are we sure that it’s him? there’s tons of other guys named joshua, right?” seungkwan tries to reason.

“i listened to one of the audios last week, seungkwan,” you sigh, not even slightly embarrassed to admit it, because your friendship with seungkwan lacks any boundaries, which shouldn’t be healthy, but it works for the both of you. still, you don’t mention how his audios are what you’ve been listening to every night, for the past week. therefore, you can say with conviction that: “it’s him. i know.”

“you are a freak,” seungkwan scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. seconds later, his head is perking up and he looks at you with an expectant gaze.

“do you think i could get the link to the playlist too?”

“no! he’s my crush! go find your own audios!”

“knew it. freak.”

—

“were you busy last night? you didn’t answer my calls.”

you nearly let out a scream when you hear the voice that has been plaguing your thoughts for the past week. after managing to compose yourself, you turn to see joshua sitting down next to you, setting his bag down on the floor.

“sorry, i fell asleep early last night,” you smile awkwardly, trying your best to avoid eye contact with joshua.

“i saw you active at 2 a.m. though? and i’ve been trying to reach out for a week, but you never responded,” joshua refutes, and you mentally kick yourself for your stupid addiction to social media. “did i do something wrong? it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but i just want to know why, and apologize for any mistakes i might have made.”

“joshua, it’s not like that,” you shake your head. “it was just-”

whatever bullshit lie you were going to give him gets cut off by the professor walking into the lecture hall. all students fall silent immediately, and the professor begins his lecture unceremoniously.

“let’s talk after class, okay?” you whisper to joshua to make sure the professor won’t hear you.

and to your devastation, joshua leans in closer to whisper into your ear: “let’s get coffee after class, yeah?”

you can only gulp and nod slowly, your head moving like a broken robot. joshua gives you a small smile and pulls away, shifting his attention back to the professor.

you, on the other hand, try your best not to make it obvious just how affected you were simply by joshua whispering into your ear.

—

after class, there’s not much scope for you to escape without joshua noticing, so you resign to your fate and follow joshua to the coffee shop on campus. although it’s just a three-minute walk, every second feels like an hour in itself, especially because you awkwardly keep your mouth shut and joshua keeps glancing at you in a way that he thinks is subtle.

it’s not.

you’re put out of your misery when the familiar glass doors of the coffee shop open up automatically in front of you. after a deep inhale, you enter the building, and joshua leads the both of you to a table in the corner.

“do you want your usual?” joshua asks, and you nod wordlessly. it’s like there’s a countdown only you are aware of, telling you how much time you have left before joshua confronts you about your strange behaviour and what you’re going to tell him.

you don’t use your time very wisely.

you can’t help but look at joshua, who is at the counter, placing the order for your drinks. you can’t help but look at how his lips move as he speaks. you can’t help but look at how his bright eyes form crescents when he smiles at the employee. you can’t help but look at how his graceful hands carry the tray of drinks back to the table.

you pinch your thigh under the table as you panic. joshua is back at the table, and you have to give him an answer. an answer that you haven’t come up with yet.

“you look like i’m here to interrogate you for murder,” joshua laughs, attempting to cut through the tension. “relax, okay? in fact, if you don’t want to talk about it, you could just leave, it’s alright.”

you bite your lip nervously, wondering what you could say to him without giving away exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.

“the link you sent me was- it wasn’t the playlist, joshua,” you blurt out, forgetting all your plans of lying to him.

“so i sent you the wrong playlist,” joshua repeats. “and you’ve been avoiding me because of that?”

“no, you didn’t send me any playlist,” you groan, and joshua still looks confused, which prompts you to take your phone out and open up your texts with joshua. you scroll past all the unanswered texts and stop at the link he sent you.

“click on the link, see where it’s taking you,” you sigh, handing the phone over to him. joshua takes the phone from you and does what he’s told. within a few seconds, his eyes are going comically wide and his face flushes red instantly as he hurries to switch the phone off.

“fuck- y/n, you weren’t supposed to see that-” joshua sputters out. he’s on the brink of hyperventilating, and the other people in the coffee shop keep shooting dirty glares at him.

“joshua, calm down, it’s alright-”

“no! it’s not! you weren’t supposed to know- no one was supposed to know about it!” joshua cuts you off with more panicked rambling, which seems to attract more attention from other people.

“god, joshua, just shut up!” you hiss, leaning across the table to place your hand over his mouth. “this isn’t the place to talk about, this situation. let’s go back to my place, okay?”

at your words, joshua finally calms down enough for you to take him by the arm and lead him out of the coffee shop, both your drinks left untouched. you take him back to your apartment as quickly as possible, offering him a seat on your couch and some water once you’re inside.

there’s a few minutes of silence as joshua drinks the water, and you use the time to blame yourself for being an idiot and telling joshua the truth and throwing the both of you in an awkward situation. your train of thought is interrupted when joshua clears his throat to speak.

“i know you’re probably disgusted by me after- after seeing that,” he starts, his voice shaky. “i’m really sorry for sending you that, it was a complete accident, i swear. i wasn’t trying to be a creep or anything. you’re free to judge me all you want, i deserve it-”

“joshua, i’m not going to judge you,” you assure him, and he looks up to face you, his eyebrows furrowing with surprise. “what you do in your private life is none of my business. even i owe you an apology for acting all strange, but i promise it’s not because i’m disgusted by you.”

“you’re not?” he asks, not quite convinced.

“i’m not,” you confirm, and some of the tension in his shoulders melts away when you shoot him a small smile.

however, his next question has you freezing in your place.

“how did you know it was me, though?” joshua questions. “i mean, you wouldn’t have known if you didn’t listen to the audios. you didn’t, right?”

it’s your turn to blush a violent shade of red and avert your eyes from joshua’s gaze. “i’m- well, i mean, i was- i didn’t know who it was so i, i may have listened to one?”

the previous panic in joshua’s eyes transform into a knowing expression and smirk. “are you sure? just one?”

“no,” you mumble, hoping joshua didn’t pick up on it, but clearly, luck isn’t on your side today.

“so you listened to more than just one?” joshua tilts his head, his voice taking on that sweet lilt you’ve become used to hearing in your earphones. “did you like them?”

your brain, unhelpful as always, decides to bring back bits and pieces from the audios you’ve been listening to all week. joshua’s groans, whispers, and that sound he makes just when he’s about to cum, replay in your ears, and you press your thighs together as arousal spikes in your gut.

“use your words, darling. i can’t read minds,” joshua nudges you, and you finally break.

“i liked them, i liked them a lot,” you admit, eyes boring holes into the floor of your living room. there’s a few beats of silence before a finger is tipping your chin up, and suddenly, joshua is kneeling in front of you, his eyes locked on yours.

then he asks, “did you touch yourself while listening to them?” you nod, and joshua makes a sound of disapproval.

“baby, i told you to use your words, didn’t i?”

“i did, i touched myself,” you confess. “i even- i even made a few donations.”

“really? that’s so sweet of you, darling,” joshua smiles sweetly, yet the hunger in his eyes is anything but sweet. “now that we’re here, you deserve a little gift for being so good, don’t you? let me show you how grateful i am to you?”

“are you- are you serious?” your voice is unsure and hesitant.

“of course i am,” joshua assures. “you’ve been on my mind for a long time, y/n. so, what do you say?”

it doesn’t take you much time to decide what you want. the second you mumble out a soft yes, joshua is leaning in close to capture your lips in a slow kiss.

you’ve spent not only the last week, but the entirety of the time you’ve known joshua wondering how his lips would feel against yours. and it exceeds anything your imagination had come up with.

the way he kisses feels as syrupy as nectar, and it keeps you wanting more, which is why you dig your fingers into the fabric of his shirt to pull him in closer, letting out a gasp when his tongue licks across your lips and moves past them.

his hands, the ones you’ve dreamed of every night, grip at your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into your warm, exposed skin, where your shirt has ridden up. he then pulls away to latch his lips onto your neck, leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he has access to.

“fuck, josh, can we- can we take it to my bedroom?” you gasp when you feel his teeth graze against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

“show me the way, beautiful.”

—

in the blink of an eye, you’re already laying down on your bed, your clothes stripped off, leaving you in your underwear. joshua is in a similar state of undress as he hovers over you, the boxers he’s wearing doing a poor job of hiding how aroused he is.

“you’re so pretty, y/n,” he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you as he litters your skin with kisses. he swirls his tongue over your nipple over the fabric of your bra, and the sensation makes you let out a sharp whine. “i’ve waited for this moment for so long, you have no idea.”

“me too, fuck, just take the damn thing off-” you grit your teeth because of how joshua keeps teasing you by mouthing at your breasts over your bra. he smirks at you, and with the flick of a wrist, the clasp of your bra is undone, and it’s pulled off your body.

smiling like a cat who has got the cream, joshua takes the liberty to mark your chest, leaving behind red traces of him so that you remember him for days to come. you arch your back, leaning into his touch and letting out whimpers as he tugs at your nipples with his teeth, leaving them red and puffy.

“joshua, i need you touch me, please,” you moan. it’s been a while since you got laid, which makes every touch feel extra sensitive, and joshua’s teasing is only making the unsettling feeling under your skin worse. 

“mm, since you’ve been such a good girl, i’ll give you what you want,” joshua mutters against your skin. you don’t have to beg again, because he’s pulling off your panties next to rub on your clit in gentle circles.

your hips buck up to gain some more friction, and joshua laughs to himself when he sees the desperate scrunch of your brows. he leans down to kiss you once again, reveling in the way you moan into his mouth when he finally slips two fingers inside you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he murmurs into your mouth. “you can’t take me if you’re this worked up, darling.”

“no! i can take you, i promise!” you whine as the scissoring movement of his fingers slow down. “i’m your good girl, i can take it all.”

“desperate for cock, aren’t you?” joshua chuckles, but the sound is mean, and it does a great job of turning you on even more. the feeling of him talking to you in the flesh the way he does in his audios is unreal, and you can’t believe you got this lucky. “i like that, baby. let me stretch you out a little more, hm? so i can fit it all in?”

you nod your head quickly, turning your face to the side to bury it in the pillow as joshua adds a third finger, his thrusts increasing in their pace. you’re trying your best to hold on till joshua finally fucks you, but his fingers are rubbing all the right spots, and before you know it, you’re screwing your eyes shut, clenching down on him and cumming with his name on your lips.

when you finally open your eyes, you feel another gush of wetness drip from your cunt as joshua licks his fingers clean of your orgasm.

“just as sweet as i expected,” he remarks casually, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“joshua, i need you to fuck me right now, or i will actually combust,” you pant, chest heaving with the intensity of your orgasm. 

“you’re being quite demanding now,” joshua raises an eyebrow at you. “but i’ll indulge you. where are the condoms?”

“first drawer, to the right,” you point at the nightstand next to your bed. joshua is quick to retrieve a condom. just as he’s about to tear open the foil packet, you stop him.

“can i do it?” you ask, and joshua’s eyes are filled with amusement.

“go ahead, baby,” he nods.

he’s kneeling on the bed, and you get on all fours in front of him. this time, there’s a smirk on your face as you lick at the bulge straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

“baby, don’t tease,” joshua says, his tone bordering on an order, so you comply and tug his boxers down. 

“darling, you’re drooling,” joshua’s voice snaps you out of the momentary daze you were in. you feel his hand hold your chin, his thumb gliding against the wetness gathered on your chin. “the sooner you get the condom on, the sooner you get the fucking you deserve.”

hearing his words, you gulp. joshua was, for a lack of better words, huge. bigger than anyone you’ve slept with, and quite frankly, it’s making you nervous. joshua seems to sense that, because he calls your name out again to catch your attention.

“hey, if you’re unsure about this, we could stop here,” joshua offers, his voice gentle now. “i don’t want to force you into anything.”

“no, it’s- i’m not unsure, i want this,” you shake your head. “it’s been a while, that’s all.”

“i’ll go slow with you, if that’s what you want,” joshua says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “i never want to hurt you.”

“i know you wouldn’t,” you look up at him to give him a small smile. his attention is on you as he smiles back, and you seize the opportunity to catch him off-guard.

“oh shit,” joshua lets out a loud groan as you wrap your lips around his tip and suck, hard. he tries his best not to thrust into your mouth, knowing that once he started, it wouldn’t take him much time to cum down your throat. 

you seem to have understood it too, because your mouth doesn’t relent. you keep suckling at the tip like it’s a lollipop, the sound obscene to even your own ears. 

and then, you hear it. the sound he makes in the back of his throat. the breathy whine he lets out just as he’s about to reach his peak. at that very moment, you pull away with a satisfied grin. you pay little attention to the frustrated sounds joshua makes as you roll the condom over his length, pressing a kiss to the head as you lay back against the pillows again, spreading your legs in anticipation.

joshua all but pounces on top of you, claiming your lips in a hungry kiss as he lines his cock up with your hole, slowly nudging it inside you. your breath hitches in your throat at the pleasurable pain of his cock stretching out your walls. joshua distracts you from the pain by kissing you through it, one hand holding your waist, and the other finding yours to intertwine your fingers together.

“you feel so good around me, baby,” joshua says, and you feel the words being spoken against the skin of your neck as joshua finally bottoms out in you.

“feel so full,” you gasp. “please move, please.”

joshua doesn’t need any more convincing. he slowly pulls out and snaps his hips forward in sharp movements. his thrusts are so deep you think you can feel him in your throat. “faster, baby, c’mon,” you beg, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders and your legs tightly wrapping around his waist.

“you want it faster? want me to fuck you till your cunt only remembers the shape of my cock?” joshua grunts, picking up his speed, making you moan even louder. he’s fucking you so good you can’t even string together a coherent sentence, only mindless babbling leaves your lips.

“‘m so close, baby. you’re close too, hm?” joshua rasps, now rubbing your clit in tandem with his thrusts. “i can feel you clenching down on me. gonna milk my cock like a good girl, yeah?”

“fuck, yes joshua, i’m gonna cum-” your moans are only getting louder, and they provoke joshua to go faster to see just how loud you can get for him.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” joshua says, and if those were the magic words, you’re cumming again. this time, joshua reaches his climax at the same time. his thrusts slow down to a deep grind of his hips as you both ride out your orgasms.

“what the fuck, i can’t feel my legs,” you wheeze, your limbs practically reduced to jelly with how satisfying your orgasm was.

“can’t say i’ve ever had a girl say that to me before,” joshua chuckles. he slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed.

“you do this with a lot of girls?” you ask, not daring to look at him.

“with a few, but i don’t have the same feelings for them as i do for you,” joshua replies without any hesitation, and it makes you turn your head to the side to look at him.

“you mean that?”

“i’ve had this hopeless crush on you for ages, y/n,” joshua confesses. “so yeah, i mean it. it’s the truth.”

“okay, good, because i really like you too,” your face breaks into a huge smile. “and i don’t want you to think that it’s only because of what just happened. i’ve liked you since the time you sat down next to me during our ‘history of music’ lecture and asked me to be your partner for the project.”

“that’s almost two years ago,” joshua’s mouth widens with surprise. “we’ve liked each other for that long?”

“god, we’re idiots,” you laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “come to think of it, if you hadn’t sent me the wrong link, how many years would we spend pining for each other?”

joshua’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as embarrassment creeps up on him. “don’t remind me of that. i’m going to be scared of sending someone the wrong link for the rest of my life now.”

“at least it had a good outcome for us,” you shrug jokingly, and joshua’s laugh sounds like music itself.

later on, long after the both of you have showered and cuddled up under your blanket, you’re struck with a ridiculous thought while admiring joshua’s features in the pale moonlight.

“so, now that i’m a special fan, do i get any added benefits from ShuaTalks?”

“darling, i just gave you a live demo of my audios. are you already that desperate for another round?”

“we’ve got to make up for lost time, don’t we?”

“maybe after my early morning class tomorrow.”

“sure, party pooper.”

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[sweetsoobie]

Which drama would you like to watch tonight? 𓏲𝄢

Choi Soobin — 20th century girl | ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟

𝓖enre • fluff, angst

When your best friend has to go abroad for heart surgery, she asks you to gather as much information as possible about her latest crush. But everything gets mixed up when you realize you've been studying the wrong guy the entire time.

Choi Yeonjun — King the Land | ꪆৎ

𝓖enre • fluff, smut

At the king hotel, where smiling is mandatory, you’re known for your irresistible smile, but for some reason, your new boss, Choi Yeonjun, can’t stand it.

Choi Beomgyu — When I Fly Towards You | ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

𝓖enre • fluff, friends to lovers

On a rainy day, you fall in love with Beomgyu at first sight, thinking you’ll never see him again. But when you transfer schools, you’re shocked to discover that he’s one of the top students there.

Kang Taehyun — Meow the Secret Boy | ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

𝓖enre • smut, hybrid au, slight angst

You never expected your cat hybrid, Taehyun, to be the jealous type, But when you get too close to an old friend, he makes it clear that he’s not willing to share.

Huening Kai — a Business Proposal | ✮⋆˙

𝓖enre • smut

Unknowingly sending your best friend to take your place for a date with her company’s CEO turned out to be one of the best things you’ve ever done—especially since you get to have his secretary instead.

Hiii!! This is my first time writing so I thought that I would start with a small series!! These fics are based off of my favorite dramas that fit each txt member. I don’t know exactly when they will release but the Taehyun fic will definitely come out first bc I’m really excited abt it!! I’m thinking like 1-2 weeks. If you want to support me, like and repost bc it really helps!! Pls look forward to the first fic bc I can say with full certainty it will NOT disappoint ‼️‼️im really excited to start the year fresh and try something new!!

© Sweetsoobie 2025 | Do not repost, translate, or take my works from this platform. Please and thank you.

[meowcats734]

There were no doors in the spective’s house, just sheets of falling liquid that parted for us like curtains. Despite how hard it made conversation, I was thankful for our helmets. I had no desire to join the people who’d been fully encased.

Ana insisted on going first every time we went through a door, and maintained physical contact with me at all times. I don’t think the crimson child took it personally; they seemed halfway convinced they were an irredeemable monster already. So while Ana took care of physical security, I tried to get through to our guide. 

“So this is a question for all of you,” I said, and when the molten red in the shape of a kid tilted their head in confusion, I elaborated: “the person who’s talking to me and the voices in your head. Do you have names?”

The spective stumbled, though there were no obstacles in the mirror-smooth pool of a floor. “I… my name is Thom. The voices, they don’t have a name. They just shout at me…”

“Is it alright if I keep addressing them as ‘the voices’, then?” I asked.

Thom paused as Ana peeked through the next curtain of liquid. “They like that. I don’t like how much they like that.”

What the poor kid needed was a dedicated therapist, not a social worker and a soldier. But my job was to make sure Thom was safe enough to even be in the same room as a therapist, and I wasn’t qualified to figure out what was going on in their head.

So I stepped past the matter and moved on to the matters I knew how to help with. “The people who were frozen upstairs—do you mind if I ask who they are?”

Thom hunched over. “I don’t know. They were just… there, when I held the moment. I think they were his parents. Or maybe his siblings.” He hesitated, then—somewhat forcefully—added, “They were going to take him away.”

“Him?” I asked.

“Tsu.” Anachel interrupted, backing out from the doorway. “This one’s closed.”

I turned her way, and she tapped the curtain of fluid with a touchstick, parting it. The other side was sealed shut, the shiny fresh wax showing the outline of a door.

I didn’t like the look of that, but this house wasn’t made for me. Thom placed one morphic hand against the doorknob, and I heard it click as the child swung it open.

It must have been a playroom, before the spective’s power had preserved it under a coating of wax. A TV still glimmered, frozen between frames, its light blurred to illegible crimson beneath its semi-transparent shell. Foam bullets and toy guns were littered across the floor, their shapes nothing more than barely visible lumps.

And in the heart of the room a figure—a child’s outline, couldn’t be older than twelve—was half-standing, turning to leave.

“He was going to go,” Thom said, his voice quavering. “Forever. Do you see? I just need—I just want a little longer with him. Can you give me that? Please?”

Thom’s form rippled, losing coherence, like the last splash in a summer pool, the droop of a flag running out of wind, and in that instant I saw into the shard of magic that a child named Thom had inadvertently made his own. His was the power of endings defied, hands held at sunset and farewells forestalled.

Ana nudged my heel with hers, and I followed her gaze. Through the uneven coating of wax that had held Thom’s friend—or more?—in this instant, I saw the fluttering of eyelids.

The people Thom had entombed were still conscious.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, to Thom, to the voices in their head, to the people who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time where a spective had been born.

“Just let me have this,” Thom begged. “You can go back and tell them I’m not hurting anyone, okay? I’m just… keeping them here. For a little. They’re still alive, see? And I’ll let them go and it’ll be like nothing happened, I just… not yet. Please. Please, don’t make me do this.”

“Tsu,” Ana said, as the walls sludged towards the sealed door and it twisted with a click. “Assay.”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what came next. “I can’t help them,” I whispered. “Get us out of here. We’ll come back with someone who can help you, Thom, I promise.”

“I don’t need help!” Thom shouted. “I’ll lock you up here forever if you ruin this!”

“Kid, you can’t win this with violence. They’ll send you to the Neverfound if we don’t return,” Ana said, and there was an exhaustion bone-deep in her voice as she looked at one more child with too much power who was in too deep to back down. 

“I know,” Thom said, and in that moment I knew we’d made a mistake. “And in the Neverfound nobody will take this moment from me.”

Blood-red wax surged inwards as Ana drew two artifacts from her belt, and I whispered one last apology to Thom.

A.N.

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I had a dream I was touring a house, and in the basement there was a little staircase that led to a door sealed with red wax. I told the lady showing the house “I don’t like that.” and she said “Then this house just isn’t for you. :)”