#but for positive things I have to do it at the start

[redpulsive]

SYLUS ⋆｡✩ eating you out

18+ MINORS DNI

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧

Heyyyy everyone, I noticed my yappathon about Sylus grinding/dryhumping is getting quite a lot of notes! If you somehow haven’t seen it before reading this one, here it is! Anyways, I’m super happy about the attention that post got, so I decided that I’m going to do another one about my personal favorite aspects about Sylus, which is the fact that THIS MAN EATS!!! Practically confirmed atp thanks to his Affinity Level 145 Secret Times: Midnight Feast.

I’m just going to babble in bullet points again regarding my ideas/opinions about the matter

Let me say this right off the bat, no wild bushes or periods will EVER deter this man from eating it. He does not care about your pubic hair or your period blood getting in his business. As long as you’re comfortable with being hairy or being bloody while he’s eating it, that’s all he cares about, your comfort means everything to him.

He can cum just from eating you out. Just the sole act of servicing you in that type of way gets him UNDONNEEE.

He WILL encourage you to use him if you want to, it’s insanely sexy to him. Just the idea of you bucking your cunt against his tongue and getting your slick all over his lips makes him HARD.

Because of this ^ he especially loves it when you sit on his face. he’d have your ass in his hands like putty while you’re using his beautiful, scrumptious nose as your personal seat. And believe me, no matter how much you weigh this man is STRONG and he WILL let you sit on his face.

He has to be in a position where he can see your face. Eating it from behind isn’t as rewarding to him imo! What’s he supposed to look at if your pretty face isn’t in his view? He wants to see just how good he’s making you feel. His one exception to this is if the two of you are in a 69 position, which he’d never make you do unless if you were willing.

He uses his tongue all over you, swiping it inbetween your folds, dipping it into your entrance, licking your clit, the whole thing is a delicacy and he’s RAVENOUS. That is his main course.

He can be pretty intense about it. He’d take his time at first, but at some point he’d get so into it that you’ll be SQUIRMING trying to kick him off of you. He does NOT PLAY about this shit!

He will be moaning and groaning into it, the taste and smell of your slick arousal is just SO intoxicating to him. He cannot help himself.

Eating you out is his man’s stress relief. You’ll never see another man drop to his knees in front of you faster than Sylus after a tiring and annoyingly long day of work. Once he goes to work on your cunt he’s in a trance, 10/10 distraction method for him AND it’s a win-win for the both of you.

If you’re in a position where your legs can be on his shoulders or wrapped around your head, they’re going to be on his shoulders or wrapped around his head. He likes to be LOCKED IN!

He’s always gripping your thighs or your ass during the deed. He’ll constantly run his hands up and down your legs, especially you’re standing while he’s on his knees.

He loves, loves, LOVES when you hold his head in place and run your fingers through his hair! Please god, play with it while his tongue is working on you, it’s like a personal reward to him.

90% of the time his eyes are locked onto you with a soft and attentive gaze, but during that other 10% his eyes are closed and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed. How cute.

Depending on his mood he’s either down bad and worshipping you OR he’s being very playful and naughty with you. When he’s worshiping you he’s giving you all sorts of kisses, bites and hickeys all down your body while murmuring sweet nothings to you, starting from your head all the way down to your thighs before getting right to action. When he’s being naughty he’s being such a tease, he likes to rile you up physically and verbally to encourage you to take some sort of initiative.

Once you orgasm he is cleaning the mess with his tongue. He will not let you shower or wipe yourself down with a towel until he’s had his fill.

Do not underestimate Mr. Coochiesucker9000 over here.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧

[bugdoppio]

HEADCANON DROP HI HELLO (ignore how i accidentally switched pete and josh's position i drew this in school without my phone okay. forgive me)

BILL !!

hes the level of white that his face gets actually red when hes rlly angry

worst acne out of all of the club plus probably has a bald spot on his head from how stressed out he is all the time

surprisingly his hair is the cleanest out of all of them because his mom forces him to take baths frequently (hates her for it) -> weirdly that does not stop him from smelling like shit so

has VERY bad myopia (short sighted)

absolutely awful posture. pack it up hunchback of notre dame

has very bad lactose intolerance but does NOT stop him

i like to think maybe it was his dad who introduced him to comics and nerdy stuff and they really bonded over that so he resents his mother a lot for "taking his dad away from him" when they had the divorce

NOT a reader at all, only reads books that dont have pictures on them if its for school, otherwise he does NOT touch that shit

has a surprisingly good singing voice but the talents wasted because he doesnt like music at all

very very VERY closeted bisexual would rather die than admit he feels a little something when looking at pretty men

has a habit of biting himself when he's frustrated

has arachnophobia so bad to the point it's actually funny. if u tell him theres a spider on his shoulder he will scream so loudly and freak out and not speak to u for a week when he realizes u were lying

his bones are really easy to break for some reason? shove him the tiniest bit hard he will break something when he falls on the ground

i feel like he'd have a peanut allergy. no i will not elaborate

judges really hard whenever someone gets a very complicated coffee order but cannot handle a singular sip of black coffee. spits it out immediately

brags about being the oldest of all of them when its like. him and josh are less than a month apart

very very low pain tolerance will be so dramatic over every tiny papercut

umm umm something something npd and ocd because oomf said so

last one of the club to grow facial hair

hates HATES pda but is so clingy in private its insane

chews on every pen or pencil he owns. beaver ass

has really really dry lips to the point his doctor told him to regularly put on chapstick but he never does it because he "feels gay" doing it, lips get cracked and bloody every time the weather gets a little dryer than usual

always wears long sleeved shirts or jackets over t-shirts because he hates how his arms look (theyre very skinny. bro cannot throw a hard hitting punch or lift a mildly heavy object for his life)

cannot peel any fruit. ever.

never got his drivers license. even in epilogue he has to take cabs everywhere

also epilogue i feel like he'd have a little bit of a drinking problem maybe

JOSH !!

very very greasy curly hair that has so much frizz. CANNOT be brushed dry ever or itll puff up ljke a pomeranian

probably started growing a neckbeard before any real facial hair but he gets self conscious about it so shaves it -> gives up shaving it in epilogue and his real beard started to grow

his weight isnt that much his fault its more of a genetic thing tbh -> tried working out to see if he lost weight once but when his fat didnt immediately turn into muscle in like. a week. he gave up

his mom probably got him to do piano or violin classes and when the club went to a recital to make fun of him they were like. a little impressed cuz he was not bad at all tbh -> probably tried to audition to school band or somethibg? but immediately shouted FUCK the second he got a note wrong and got kicked out

has some form of jaw misalignment? but never told his mom because he would rather die than be seen with braces

gamer headphone dent 💔

immediately asks any girl wearing a band shirt "name five songs" even if he doesnt know the band at all

owns a concerning amount of body pillows

secretly has a thing for mean assertive women

bpd maybe?

has VERY bad hyperopia (long-sightedness)

used to own hamsters and got so sad when they died he missed club meetings for like a week -> club genuinely thought it was a grandma or something not yoda 1 and yoda 2 (he'd name them that because he forgot which one was which and just named them the same thing)

has so many cousins and extended family its insane. he swears that if he hears "youve grown so much, last time i saw you you were a little baby!" he will LOSE IT

has freakishly good aim for some reason? like, the club wouldve gone to paintball or laser tag or something and bill would throw a tantrum over always getting shot by josh immediately

hates overly sweet things

PETE !!

very very hairy everywhere except on his head 😭 bro has a receding hairline at 17 someone save him (literally the only reason he wears the baseball cap all ghe time)

probably the first one to grow facial hair out of the club, brags about it so hard

tried piercing his ears by himself once but it got infected so he had to give up

rlly dark eyes and has the most beautiful luscious dark lashes youve ever seen (guido mista coded)

nose is very curved and downturned

MOLES MOLES SO MANY MOLES

kinda crooked teeth but his parents cant afford braces for him so

owns a bunch of exotic pets and used to prank the club with them until bill accidentally stepped on his pet spider and killed it or something

yk when u smell sweaty and bad and try putting deodorant on top to fix it but just ends up smelling like a mix of sweat and deodorant and its lowkey worse? yeah thats what pete smells like. all the time. and axe body spray

tried smoking one (1) time to look cool and regretted it so much. never again

probably unironically got scurvy once due to not brushing his teeth or eating any fruit and thought his gums bleeding meant he was turning into a zombie -> tried biting josh once to be funny and "turn him into a zombie too" but he bit too hard and it got infected (he felt SO bad)

really strong immune system from eating dirt as a kid? almost never gets sick -> when he does its really bad and the club lowkey thinks hes gonna die when it happens

if not working at sick mofo in epilogue i like to think he could've ended up working as a horror sfx artist

also could probably have been good at sports if he tried but he never did (plus hates jocks so)

surprisingly really knowledgeable about food and spices and stuff (maybe his mom taught him) but he HATES cooking so never does anything abiut it

watches gore and shit but would throw up immediately if he saw a major injury like that in real life

has freakishly good reflexes from his older brothers picking on him all the time

JERRY !!

THICK EYEBROWS !!!!!!!! KINDA HAS SIDEBURNS TOO !!!!!!!!!! im not normal

thin lips ..and eyebags …. plus kinda defined cheekbones make him look rlly tired all the time

hes really myopic but doesnt have glasses -> his eyes look closed all the time cuz hes always squinting trying to see 3 feet in front of him (plus his eyebrows furrow together when he does so thats why sometimes he looks like he has a unibrow) -> probably starts wearing contacts in epilogue

also literally only failed his driving test becayse of myopia SOMEONE GET THIS POOR BOY SOME GLASSES

had a tooth gap when he was younger (think that one flashback where theyre all kids) and had to wear braces for a while to fix it -> was relentlessly made fun of because of that by the club until bill got braces too and threatened to punch whoever made fun of braces again

weirdly good at finding out info about people …. stalker ass .!!!! has doxxed people he dislikes on forums occasionally -> stops doing that in epilogue but maybe finds himself accidentally stalking someones profile when on the internet and feels bad

waaayy taller than the rest of the club but has a shitty posture so he looks kinda on par with the others -> like 180cm but looks 175cm

best jawline out of all of them lowkey 😭

maybe a little unaware on physical boundaries and stuff … physical touchy guy

FRECKLES + hes probably the one wity tge least acne out of all of them cuz he would probably start picking at his pimples the minute they show up (does NOT wash his face though) -> acne scars in epilogue

greasy hair, probably washes it every 2 weeks (has rlly nice smelling shampoo when he does wash it though) -> washes his hair more frequently in epilogue (REALLY soft)

very blunt when he has strong opinions about something but otherwise has ZERO backbone. will immediately change his mind on something if he wants to impress someone

a sagittarius because he looks like he'd have a birthday in december plus weird al yankovic song your horoscope for today (listen to it right now.)

very clammy sweaty hands and HATES it, sensory nightmare, always fidgeting with the hem of his sweater to dry them out

autistic .!!! plus has rlly bad anxiety probably

and fomo. oh lord he has so much fomo -> probably one of the biggest reasons he still hangs out with the club tbh -> plus has really bad codependency and abandonment issues maybe? cannot do something by himself he has to have someone with him

gets his ears pierced in the epilogue and LOVES it, too scared to get more though because it was really painful

is a pretty good artist, could've become a professional easily but was more preoccupied with other stuff probably

owns a huge ginger main coone cat that bullies him around

low blood pressure

very skilled at calligraphy… most legible handwriting out of all of them

umm urrmm thats it i thinks .... i hope my vision is not too out of character .......,,,, Guh

[blues-stories]

I haven’t really worked up to smut but I’d do have an interesting head cannon for the boys when they’re doing the ✨Devils Tango✨.

Imaging The LADS men loosing control of their Evol during sex:

Xavier:

Picture this- the room is starting to heat up as you and Xavier are frankly going at it like bunnies. You’re Exhausted, Over Stimulated, and quite frankly SORE from the positions he’s manage to bend you into. (Who knew you were so flexible? You sure didn’t) And right as he’s pistoning into you for the umpteenth time, you start to notice a….Subtle difference…At first.

One second he’s panting and sweating as he hovers over you, your back flush to his chest, and the next he’s become a Mother fuckin glow stick.

It only gets brighter as he keeps going, chasing his high until eventually- once he does cum- You’re literally getting flash-banged from the bright flash of light that emits from him. Alarm clock? Needs to be reset. Lights? Three bulbs busted from the surge of power. Xavier? He’s finally dimmed down as he collapses onto of you, mumbling about replacing everything tomorrow.

Rafayel:

Once again the scene is nothing new. This time you’re on top of him as he sits on one of the blush sofa like chairs in his studio, Hands digging into your hips as he guides your movements. What started as you taking control quickly turned into him guiding your body like a puppet on strings….Not that you particularly cared though.

He’s got you bouncing and grinding faster- HARDER even as he tries to pull you and himself over to that metaphorical finish line- and my god would you both be finishing. His face is getting flush- his skin scalding hot to the touch, so much so that you’re starting to get more and worried..

Poor Rafayel is so lost in the moment that he doesn’t notice the fireplace starting to roar to life, nor does he notice the steam rising from his body…It’s mere moments until he locks you on top of him as you both reach your high, his finger tips feeling as if they’ve scaled you in the process….Unfortunately the burned cloth of your Hunters uniform and the very mild Hand prints on your hips do nothing to help his case.

He makes whispered promises to you to buy a new uniform and soothe the marks on your hips with some aloe… (I imagine them as sunburn marks instead of actual burns)

Zayne:

Ironically his and Caleb’s are the one that started this rant.

THIS time you’re not at home like the others- you’re actually at his office (Very original I know) And the scene is shocking to anyone that knows Zayne.

You’re laid back against the desk as Zayne stands between your legs, a hand on each thigh as he keeps you nice and spread so you can really take all of him…Now zaynes Evol acting up isn’t exactly a new thing, but what you’re starting to see now is DEFINITELY different.

Soft grunts can be heard from him with each thrust he gives you, his once warm hands have now gone cold- bone chilling so as that feeling seems to spread throughout his body…Up his arms and onto his chest, down his stomach and- oh god it’s like you’re being fucked by a icicle…To make matters even more complicated, Ice and frost start to spread toward the ground- coating the floors and crawling up the walls with how intense things are getting…

And the moment- the second he does finish deep inside you? The door to his office has frozen shut, and a big fat glob of snow seems to come raining down onto you…Zayne tries his best to hold it together as you sit up with snow flakes on your lashes, a slightly red and runny nose, and a big dollop of snow on your head…

He assures you it was an accident as he oh so kindly starts to dust the flakes from your hair, already planning your care plan for when you inevitably catch a cold from him…Of course that can wait till AFTER he’s done with you though…Now that the door is frozen shut, why waist this opportunity of alone time?..

Sylus:

Sylus has you under him with his hands pinning yours over your head, his fingers intertwining with yours as he ruts and grinds into you. That luxury mattress and bed frame he brags about? Absolutely rocking with each thrust of his hips, the post probably putting dents- if not HOLES- into the wall.

Now Sylus’s Evol is unpredictable- more so in the sense that it possibly can do just about ANYTHING- so if he were to ever loose control, who knows what’ll happen…But you know who’s about to know? You. At first it’s minor really- that familiar red and black mist oozing off of him as it slowly surrounds both you and Him- spreading like vines across the bed in a slow and meticulous manner…

Too lost in the sauce- Sylus keeps thrusting and thrusting with his eyes pinched tight and his teeth bared, a low growl leaving him as he buried himself to the hilt inside you and blows his load…You soon follow after… However instead of the usual blissed glow on you face, he finds your brows knit and mouth forming a thin line on your face. The reason? In the midst of his high, all those stuffed animals that had littered your shared bed had gotten wrapped up into the mist, squeezed so tight until they simply burst into energy…

His mumbled apologies do little to sooth your anger- Especially as he mumbles about replacing your limited edition stuffy you oh so proudly had displayed…Sure you had won the war against being single, but my god had it come at a cost…

Caleb:

This fucker right here-

Unsurprisingly, you were sprawled out on the soft sheets of your bed, hands fisting the pillow you lay on as Caleb’s head is tucked happily between your thighs..He’s been at it for hours- and despite your pleas and protests, he hasn’t stopped yet.

Caleb’s favorite place is between your thighs, making you squirm and fall aprat all from his tongue alone…He loves it so much actually- that he’s lost count of the amount of times he’s gotten off just from watching you writher in pain and pleasure…Just like now as he feasts on you, ignoring your words along with the rest of his surroundings while he feeds…

Unfortunately, despite that coil in both your bellies growing tighter and tighter, you can’t help but watch as the stuff on your bedside starts to shake…It’s small at first, a few pens on your night stand, then your dresser- then all the furniture in the room starts moving as if there’s a earthquake….But Caleb’s eyes are on you as he eagerly and hungrily awaits you to reach your peak…

Just as you do, the bed as well with the rest of the furniture are lifting off the ground, the entire room looking like something out of the exorcist movie…Your climax crashes over both of you with a wave as you arch your back- Caleb spilling his own release on to the bed in the process…And just as quickly as it happened, everything in the air seemingly drops back to the floor with a loud thud, your own body sitting up from the sudden falling sensation, and the sound of something very fragile shattering…

Not even Caleb’s cooking will be enough to calm the rage that comes with shattering your entire collection of little baby figures you’d worked on these past few years…But hey- at least you both came right?…

[risskia]

can you write how each of the lads men would react when you tell them you want children? (or it could be any of them) (your fics are nice btw)

Reply: Yes that is so cute!! ────────────────────

✦ You tell the LADS men that you want children ✦

PAIRINGS: Xavier x reader, Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader TAGS: slight suggestive content, mostly wholesome cute fluff, short blurbs

────────────────────

“Xavier, I want to have kids.” You announce.

You two are currently in Jeremiah’s greenhouse, helping him tend to his flowers. Xavier’s hands still on a potted plant as he looks to you, his eyes wide.

 “Right here?”

“W-what?” Your face turns red. “No! Of course not! I meant, when we get back h–”

But Xavier is already pushing you up against the cool glass of the greenhouse, his chest against your back and fingers dipping below your waistband.

“Too late,” he hums, pressing soft kisses to your sensitive neck. “ You’re absolutely right – I want children too. Right now.”

You two are at Sylus’s favourite restaurant when you casually bring up that you want children.

Sylus’s hand stills, as he looks up at you from his steak with an indiscernible expression. You peer at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. Does he want children too? Is he okay with the idea of raising them?

“Anyways – that was just a thought – let’s talk about something else.” you quickly say.

The next day ── .✦

“Sylus!” You call out as you push open the door to Sylus’s apartment. You kick something by accident – a gold pacifier? You look down at it, beyond perplexed.

As you step into his apartment, you’re met with the sight of piles upon piles of various baby clothes and toys, stacked neatly across the living room and dining hall. You’re speechless. 

Sylus walks out into the living room in nothing but his red silk pajamas. He mimics your aloof expression when he sees you.

“What? You said you wanted children.”

“Sylus – it was just an idea!”

You notice something : ever since you’ve casually mentioned wanting children (you don’t think Caleb would even notice), Caleb has been seeming really fatigued, sometimes even dozing off in the middle of the day just to wake up with a start.

You don’t question why and just go about your day as usual.

Until one night, you wake up from a bad dream. You sit up groggily, yawning and rubbing your eyes tiredly, just to find Caleb missing from bed.

Instead, a dim glow radiates from the study desk. Caleb sits at it, carefully jotting down notes on a notepad that you’ve never seen before. You sneak over, and tackle him by surprise. Caleb lets out a yelp of surprise as you jump onto his lap.

“Pips! What are you doing, being awake right now?” he asks hoarsely. You huff. 

“I should be asking you the same thing.” You turn to look at his notes – and that's when you realise that they’re all about pregnancy and taking care of newborns. You giggle as you flick through his notes, and Caleb just looks at you with resignation.

“This is what you’ve been losing sleep over? You’re adorable.” you tell him, twisting over in his lap to squeeze him affectionately by his cheek. “10 health recipes for pregnancy? How to take care of newborns… side effects of pregnancy and how to manage them…damn, you’re thorough.”

“I need to come prepared, okay?” Caleb nips at your fingers. “I’ll make sure to take care of you when you’re bearing our child. I’ll make sure you have everything and anything you need. All for my wife.”

When you tell him that you want children, Zayne pauses for a second, looking at you carefully.

“Are you sure?” He looks at you with a gentle expression, reaching a hand out to hold yours. “I need you to be completely certain. This is a huge decision, after all.”

“Positive,” you reply eagerly. “Zayne, I’ve been thinking this over for months.”

“Okay. Give me a second.” Zayne pulls out his phone and clicks onto a contact, holding it to his ear.

“Greyson?” He pauses. “I’ll be taking a one week leave.”

Your jaw drops. Zayne? Taking a whole week off his job? That is unheard of. Zayne continues to dish out a couple of instructions to his assistant over call before he quickly hangs up. With his full attention back to you now, he leans forward and kisses you softly on the cheek.

“Zayne,” you say slowly. “What…why…”

“You want children, right?” A playful smile tugs at his lips. “We’ll have to work on that all week. That way, it can be guaranteed that you get what you want.”

Your face heats up at the implications of his words. Zayne leans forward once more, this time pressing his warm lips to yours.

“Let’s start now.”

“...so that’s why I want children.”

Rafayel gets flashbacks to those birth-giving videos he has the misfortune to chance upon.

“But, darling,” Rafayel says, sounding pained. “Giving birth looks excruciating. What a miserable process. I don’t want you to see you in pain, ever.”

You laugh at his words, squeezing his cheek. “Rafayel, it’s going to be OK.”

“Are you sure?” he frets. “I wish there was a way you don’t have to go through the suffering, ever. I wish I could be the one giving birth.”

When he kisses you, he is extra gentle in the way he holds and touches you. His hands snake down to your thighs as he pulls back to look at you with wide, adoring eyes.

──────────────────── .✦

[aroacephotographer]

Hoo boy, the last one really speaks to me. Especially with all this drawing I’ve started doing over on @aro-ace-artist.

I could have easily said that I should’ve started twenty years ago (weird how that’s an actually accurate number) when I was in high school. Or even earlier.

I’ve been focusing on how I’m now breaking my perfectionism and finally able to move forward with things like my art. And talking to mine self in such a positive manner has done wonders.

tozozozo

[t1red-twilight]

the void

content/warnings: gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, ptsd, dissociation, self hatred

wc: 1.1k

masterlist r. r. masterlist

“bob?” you called out. the room you stepped into looked to be a repurposed attic of sorts. it seemed there were toys in the room, this was definitely a childhood memory of some kind.

the void had made you remember things you did not want to, things you had pushed down so deep you couldn’t recall the exact details. throughout it all, you could only think of one thing: where was bob? was he alright? what was happening in new york was definitely not him, that was for sure.

there he was, sitting with crossed legs fiddling with something in his hands. “bob?” you said, quieter this time. his eyes flicked over to you and then back to whatever was in his hands. when he didn’t say anything, you sat beside him. “is-is everything okay?”

he looked forward at the wall in front of him, a far-away look in his eyes. if you looked back down at his hands, you could see them shaking. you weren’t sure if physical contact would help him or not, so you kept your distance. “bob?” you repeated.

bob inhaled, and then you heard it. yelling was coming from beneath you. if you maneuvered yourself you could see between the floorboards, and there he was. a little boy, with the same watery eyes and distant expression as the man in front of you.

when you looked back up at him, you could see his lips moving just so. his lips matched with the shouts from below. “just wait a second,” bob mumbled. “it’ll be over in a second.” his eyelashes fluttered as he relived the moment.

bob’s eyes became glassy for a few moments, but he blinked a few times and then it was gone. he turned to look at you, but he didn’t say anything. you sat in silence, just waiting until the air felt a little less dense.

you looked him over, his shoulders were hunched over, his jaw tense. you tried to meet his gaze, but to no avail. he began to fiddle with his fingers. the more the silence prolonged, the more bob curled in on himself.

“bob?” you repeated once again. your voice was hushed, you were scared of alarming him or making the situation worse. you set your hand palm-up, on the top of your leg. you wiggled your fingers ever so slightly.

tentatively, bob set his hand in your own. his hands were shaking almost violently. you laced your fingers together with his, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. “you don’t have to feel bad,” he started, his voice wavering. “this is-it’s, uh-“ he stammered.

bob straightened his spine and a faux smile grew on his face, one that didn’t reach his eyes. that faraway look was still there, almost as if his consciousness had retreated back into his body.

you stroked your thumb against the back of his hand and squeezed it another time. the small point of contact grounded you in the moment; all you could focus on was him.

bob looked up at you, his brow pinched and bottom lip quivering. “i’m sorry, i-“ he gulped. “you don’t want to see this, i-“

you raised your other hand and placed it on his cheek, effectively cutting him off “hey,” you swiped at his cheekbone. “no, don’t apologize. i’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”

bob clenched his eyes shut as a tear crawled its way out of his eye. his teeth bit down in his bottom lip rather harshly and his breathing became ragged. your thumb wiped the tear away and you scooted closer to him. “cry, if you want. this is a no-judgement zone.” bob opened his eyes and a sob wracked through his body.

he leaned into your touch. his shoulders shook as he cried. in this moment you saw a side of him that you hadn’t seen much of previously; right now he just looked like a scared child who hadn’t been provided safety.

“do you want a hug?” you said quietly. “if you don’t, that’s fine too.” you attempted a comforting smile but you were unsure if that was the effect it was giving.

bob nodded against your palm. you moved your position as to make it more comfortable for yourself, and you let go of his hand and his face. the loss of contact wasn’t for long, because as soon as you were apart, he was diving back into you.

his head tucked into your shoulder and his arms encircled you as much as they could. he pulled himself closer to you, and you could feel his shoulders beginning to shake again.

one of your hands trailed up to his neck and ran though the hair there, and the other sat on his mid-back. you set your cheek against the top of his head. every couple of seconds he would cry a little harder and pull you a little closer, but you didn’t dare let go. you couldn’t find it in yourself to want to let go, even if you could.

“i thought that this would make me better, but it just made me worse.” his voice shook and broke as he spoke. “you should’ve left me behind. you should’ve just left, if i wasn’t here, then-“

you pulled away slightly, just so you could look at him. “what? no. why would we have ever left you? despite everything you think about, you still deserve a shot. that’s not you out there. why would you say that?” bob didn’t respond. your hand on his neck began carding through his hair again.

he opened his mouth to speak and closed it. his shoulders went up in a shrugging motion and he shook his head. “bob, you can’t deal with this on your own. you don’t have to if you don’t want to, i’m here if you want me to be.” bob had closed his eyes tightly again, his face screwing up in a painful expression.

“i hate remembering everything. i forget so much, but i never can seem to forget this. i can never forget the bad things.” he topped his head forward and one of his palms rubbed against his eye socket.

“and then it feels like you’re neck-deep in all the bad. like you’re drowning and don’t know how to swim,” you weren’t good at this, at comforting people. you just hoped that you didn’t sound condescending or anything like that. but, you did have some experience with what he was talking about. “brains have a funny way of reminding us about everything that sucks, huh?”

a small smile found its way to his lips. bob inhaled for a few seconds and exhaled for a few. when he opened his eyes, this time it looked like he was actually in front of you for the first time. “thank you for not leaving me,” he whispered hoarsely.

you nodded before you spoke. “of course. i don’t leave important people behind.”

[footygirl114]

R is friends with Alexia's trainer, Alexia can't take her eyes off R, R does not feel in shape enough to be there at a class run by their friend with some famous clients present, and couldn't possibly believe Alexia is enthralled by them- while working out.

No pressure! Good luck with the writing! Have fun!

The last thing you wanted to be doing on a Saturday morning was heading in to a workout class, you much preferred to get your exercise in by hiking or exploring new cities, but when your childhood best friend was opening a new fitness study in a trendy Barcelona neighbourhood you had to show up. 

Your friend had worked her ass off, she maintained a very exclusive client list including celebrities and professional athletes and everything in between. You were proud of her to watch her grow her dream into a reality and now that she has a her pwn studio you were always going to show up and be her biggest supporter. 

As you walk into the new studio you are impressed at how it looks full of life and people, as you had only seen it empty, and you smile watching her greet every person with a big smile and hug. When you get a chance to see her you cant help but to laugh and pull her into a hug. 

“Congratulations, I am so proud of you” you whispered into her ear as you squeeze her tight. 

“thank you for coming Y/N, i know this isn’t your normal scene” she says as she pulls back. 

You smile and say “I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

You don’t get a chance to say anything else as she is pulled away with a smile and you move away to get ready to start this class. You take a moment to stand off against a wall and let your eyes roam the crowd. You recognise more than a few famous faces, and you feel way out of your league when you spot the professional athlete. 

As your scanning the room, you catch the eye of a tall blonde athlete, who you are positive is Alexia Putellas. She smiles at you and you can feel the blush rush to your cheeks and when she winks you know the blush is noticeable on your face. Before you can do anything else embarrassing there is announcement to start the class. 

You make sure to put yourself to the back of the class as you were not up to embarrassing yourself in front of a room like this. 

By the end of the 45 minute session you can barley breathe and you know your shirt is covered in sweat. You don’t even want to look in the mirror as you are sure your sweaty hair is every where. You lean back agains the back wall half watching as the other participants start to gather you things and leave, most of then looking like they are barley out of breath. 

You feel her before you hear her but someone comes and stands beside you, her arm brushing yours. 

“hola” she says to you, and when you turn and see Alexia Putellas smiling at you. 

You gape at her for a moment, and squeak out a “hi” feeling the red burn of a blush on your cheeks, but you know it is covered up by the red of your cheeks from working out. 

She chuckles and says “I was hoping to catch you before you left.” 

“You were?” you immediately blurt out to her.

Nodding she says “Yes, when I see something I like I don’t like to let it pass me by.” 

“Me?” you stutter out a response, not quite believing that she would notice.

She smiles and leans in closer and whispers “Si, I noticed you right away and would like to take you out for a post workout smoothie?” 

You have a hard time responding as you can feel the whisper of her breath on your ear. 

When you do not respond she takes a step back and smiles lightly and says “No pressure, I will leave you be though.”

“Wait!” you yell out and place your hand on her forearm to keep her in place. You also notice multiple people looking at you including your friend who is smiling at winks at you. When you turn back to Alexia she is looking at you with a smirk and you smile and say “yes, I would like a smoothie with you”

She smiles brighter and says “should we jog over there together?” 

You gape at her trying to come up with a retort and before you can she bursts out laughing at your expression and says “you’re cute, but I’ll save my running for chasing after you.”

[flaresemily]

ᏴᎪͲ ҒᎪᎷᏆᏞᎽ Х ΝᎬᏀᏞᎬᏟᎬᎠ ᎡᎬᎪᎠᎬᎡ.

★ αll Եհís թαíղ í բҽҽl. ís Եհís lօѵҽ? օɾ... ղҽցlҽcԵ?

⚠warning⚠ mention of : torture. Stitches. Burn mark. Neglecting. Please proceed with caution. If you are uncomfortable with this kind of thing please ignored this story. Unless you can take the risk

Masterlist : Part 1

It started small…so small. You were Bruce and Selina's daughter. (Yes you are and today you are not some random woman child)

They all love you. Yes, yes they did. Dick takes you to the park sometimes to Bludhaven. Jason, despite being revived again, is cautious with you. Tim being the smarty pants he is actually teaches you how to do math! Damian? Oh Damian, he loves you.

But that all happened one night. At the age of 6 you notice your eyes color is different from both your parents. Bruce didn't notice yet, not even Selina did.

You know who did? Alfred did. How? Simple. He was preparing you to have a family dinner with the others. Of course you are excited. I mean…who wouldn't?

You were so excited you didn't notice the stairs. You trip down the stairs and say bye bye to your head.

As soon as you wake up, Alfred is there taking care of you while your parents and siblings fall asleep on the floor or couch.

That's when he noticed. His eyes widened. “Miss…your eyes? It's pink?”

You just stare at him wondering. When Bruce wakes up he notices your bright pink eyes. That's when it all went downhill.

Bruce and Selina fight all the time. With Bruce accusing her of cheating and her trying to defend your right. And then the next thing you knew.

Divorce paper was signed and Selina has moved out, returning to her work as Catwoman. You just stand there awkwardly. You guys are probably wondering how the family starts to neglect you.

It's because Bruce started it first. Everytime he looks at you. His eyes fill with betrayal. He started to drink and neglect his work as Batman. When he did become Batman oh boy. He doesn't have mercy on any of the villian.

The boys started to blame you little by little because everytime Bruce made eye contact with you. He felt despair. Those bright pink eyes. He looked back through your old picture and noticed something in your eyes. Each picture where you are. You have dark red eyes. From far it looks like black eyes but it turns out to be dark red. Crimson red like blood.

He never noticed your eye color but he clearly remembers that when you were born you had his hair and eye color so…what changed?

Then, one day after finishing your lunch alone. You hear your mother's voice. You quickly run to where the voice is. And there she is talking with Bruce and Alfred with all the boys assembled there. Then she presents a girl the same age as you. 6 years old. But with blue eyes. Bruce's eyes. You stared at them from afar.

Selina handed Bruce something and he looked shocked. He quickly kneels down and hugs the girl. After he finishes hugging her. He stood up and looked at the boys while smiling. You miss his smile.

“This here is your real sister. Y/n.” He announced. Dick takes the paper and scans the DNA test and damn…it is the same Bruce and Selina DNA that came out positive with the girl. (Something like that idk how to describe it but the DNA is positive about the girl being their daughter.)

You can feel your stomach twist. That's when you run to them. “Papa!” You called out to Bruce. All eyes turn to look at you. Even the girl did. You don't know why but you feel…scared as if you did something wrong. “Papa…” Selina just stares at you.

“Papa? Who is she?” Ask the girl. Jason looks at the little one and replies. “It's nothing she's the new maid Alfred hired to be your playmate. Alfred looks shocked too.

“But master? She–” Bruce raises his hand to signal Alfred to stop talking. “Just like Jason says. Since I can't really throw you out considering the outside is Gotham. Then I have no choice but to take you in. From now on you are no longer Y/n Wayne. I do not have a daughter with pink eyes. You may pick out another name for yourself.” just like that your little heart shattered.

Bruce turns to the other daughter. He picked her up. “But you my dear shall be Y/n Wayne the real Y/n Wayne” he smiled gently at her and Carried her to the living room. You just stared blankly at the place they once stood.

Alfred looks at you and leads you somewhere. “Mis– I mean uhm dear. I'll buy your outfit later, alright?” you just stare at him with betrayal in your eyes. You don't understand why Alfred treats you like this.

Everyday is like hell to you. Not only Bruce and the others openly spoil her. They seem to be abusing you mentally. Apparently this…daughter has some fear. Especially in the dark. Dick will always sleep with her. Sometimes she sleeps with Bruce and sometimes Damian reads her bedtime stories. While you?

You are trained to be the perfect maid for her. Your new name? Well it's [name] now.

(Pls use different name for Y/n and different name for [name])

Years passed by. You don't even remember how many scars you have on your back. One from when Damian was angry with the joker for trying to ‘almost’ kill his precious sister. He was training and you tried to earn his trust. Big mistake. He was so angry that he slash everything on his way. You were 7

While training with his katana he uses a blindfold. He didn't notice it was you and he ‘accidentally’ slash you from In front. Luckily Alfred was there to save you from bleeding too much. Damian never apologized.

Second scar was a burn mark.

You are tasked to bring some tea to Jason as he's tired. In the garage he was fixing his motorcycle. You once again try to earn his trust. Accidentally pick up a crowbar and drag it across the floor. He who heard it immediately went to his ‘survival’ mode.

He literally choke you and hold the teapot close to your left eyes and pour it down. Making you scream in pain. Luckily again Dick was on his way to the garage when he saw this. He quickly pushes Jason away and brings you to the hospital. Sadly the scar is permanent. Jason never apologized. You were 8

The third scar hurts you more. Apparently ‘y/n’ went missing and the family went crazy looking for her. At the same time you went missing too. Coincidence huh.

The kidnapper posted a video where they cut and stitched ‘y/n’ back up again to the batfamily. They all went crazy raiding that place looking for her. When they did. Bruce carries her still bleeding body to the manor. How many stitches does she have?

Let's count!

Both arms - 4 = 2 at each arms

Both legs - 2 = 1 each legs

Stomach - 3 = they cut and stitched back up

Back - 5 = same thing they did to the stomach.

Left chest - 1 = they cut open to see the ‘heart’ in a hurry they didn't stitch it properly.

Bruce was apologizing again and again to her. Key word = her.

Then Tim noticed someone standing at the front door. It's Selina and…y/n!!

Then he looked at the unconscious girl in Bruce's arms and he took off the blindfold and was shocked. It isn't their precious y/n it's you!! Bruce almost let you go but he kept a tight grip. His tears already stop and he takes you inside the manor. The rest of your recovery is tended by Alfred.

That's when Selina tells them she forgets to inform Bruce she's taking y/n for a mother- daughter outing.

You who are barely conscious could only let a tear fall down.

Present time

You are 15 now. Same age as y/n. You [name] l/n. You are forced to abandon your name to some wannabe you. Like it or not hey it's life.

“[name] go hang the laundry please I need to pick up the miss at school.

Your age : 15

Wannabe you : 15

Damian : 17

Tim : 19

Jason : 23

Dick : 26

Bruce : 46 (let's all just pretend okay?)

Selina : 46 (PRETEND OKAY!)

“Yes Alfred.” Being a maid wasn't on your bucket list when you were little but now…you can't complain cause Bruce truly treats you like a maid meaning…

Maid + salary + Wayne manor = a lot of money

So a win-win situation.

After Alfred picks her up from school. You were cooking lunch for them. Before suddenly you feel dizzy. So you quickly cook lunch and lay on the bed in the maid room.

That's when you feel the urge. The urge to bite into something. Your body feels warmer than usual. The next thing you knew you were biting your arm. Which is currently bleeding right now.

‘It hurts! It hurts but it's delicious!’ you think. Through your dizzy state. You didn't realize someone was knocking on your door. Alfred opens your door since you aren't answering.

It was dark. With the curtain closed. And you are not opening the light. He decided to open it. Once he did he saw how messy your room was. “[name] didn't I tell you to clean it up?” He looked around for you cause he clearly heard your voice. Before he could turn around something or someone pounced on him.

🦇🦇🦇

From : Flares Emily

🦇🦇🦇

How was it the ‘part 1’ do you all batfamily x neglected reader lovers want more? COMMENT THEN!! (not me forgetting how taglist work😞)

Part 2

[fangirl-overload13]

I mean of course it works on children and animals.

Positive reinforcement is a much better teaching tool than aggression regardless of who or what you are trying to teach.

People just think about training dogs because of the commands and obedience rather than word association or manners.

If someone is only just learning to speak or do things for the first time, they don't know the rules of what's allowed so if all they get is aggression in return they only have a negative connection to it but no corrections to fix it.

Saying no, then immediately following it by a change in attitude plus some kind of reward either compliment or treat is a better way to connect good and bad.

Animals don't speak but can be taught words or phrases in much the same way children are learning about the world for the first time.

A dog isn't going to be practicing phonics through sesame street but they will understand let's go for a walk. Don't bark. Time to eat. Lay down.

A child may not understand everything you tell them especially about what they are doing being good or bad unless you teach them what good or bad means. If all you do is yell or growl at them they are only learning that you are angry at them not what they are doing.

When I babysat for this young family for a few years the little guy was just learning to walk and talk when I started with them, over and over if he did something bad they would say "No means No" which is a great lesson like no hitting, no screaming or throwing things, no running out the front door by yourself. But they're just words with no connection. When he'd do something that requires being told no I'd follow it with an action that matched. He learned no means stop. No throwing toys, toys get put away. No more tv it's nap time, tv turns off. One time we were staying with the mom's sister and her family and the little guy had been hitting his cousin and no matter how many times the other adults said no hitting he wouldn't listen but as soon as I told him the same thing he listened. They asked me how I did it and the only thing I could say was "He knows I mean it." I would never hurt him or anything but he would receive a punishment if he was bad and a reward if he was good. He loved when I played music and we'd dance together or I'd make him a snack and bring him treats. At one point his mom started telling him "Amanda says no" and he'd stop misbehaving immediately, again because he knows when I say no I mean stop. I wasn't even around but still my word held impact.

Meanwhile when my sister got a puppy she was very out of control and wouldn't listen to much because no one had the time to train her. I managed to get her to understand that she can't jump up and grab food or knock it out of your hand, she has to sit and wait. I would hold the food just out of reach until she'd settle down and wait for it to be placed down. Now after a few years all I have to do is say "what do you do?" When holding food or treats and she will sit and wait politely until the food is either in her dish or handed to her.

When the dogs are misbehaving my mom just yells, nothing else, so at this point the dogs just figured this is how she talks. Loud. There's no positive or negative impact because there's nothing to associate it with.

Kids learn things in a simmer way based on tone and actions so if all you ever do is yell or throw a fit without addressing what the issue is they are just going to associate aggression with you and not the specific situation.

Positive reinforcement is the best way to help them correct behavior and learn that not everything will lead to an aggressive reaction.

But again because people associate obedience with animal training they might get the wrong idea if they don't understand that it's just a teaching method.

I want to apologize to my friends and family who have children for low key treating their kids like dogs but the standard methods for training dogs are even more effective of them because they actually understand language and are better at reasoning.

Positive reinforcement is amazingly effective, like I saw my nephew poking their cat so I sternly told him no, he stopped and I immediately changed my demeanor and cheerfully told him thank you and how happy I was that he listened to me instead of staying angry at him and he got this strange “Oh…It actually does make a difference wether I’m naughty or not” and later my sister in law asked why he’s so polite around me.

That’s literally what works best on dogs. Let them know when you don’t like what they’re doing but also let them know when you’re happy with them even if that means changing your demeanor on a dime (and even if you’re still a bit mad at them for doing it in the first place).

Oh and little treats. I skipped the aunt phase and is already turning into a grandma who has candy in her pockets for the kiddos for good behavior.

[zorange13]

—enhypen as boyfriends, argument edition

how they are during arguments?

enha hyung line x fem! poc reader (no specific descriptors, like i said i just write everything with poc's in mind so this is just my thing atp idk)

cw. arguments/conflicts in romantic relationships, verbal escalation, profanity (bc when do i not curse), emotional vulnerability, brief mentioning of tears.

wc. 2.2k, lightly proofread

lee heeseung 

— what he does

whether it’s you or him that’s in the wrong, it always starts with somebody sassing the other person unnecessarily or for no good reason. please don’t misunderstand, you guys are not toxic by any means. but i still stand on what i said about him being prideful. so with that, i feel that you two would go at it until you make a good point, then he just shuts down—as previously mentioned. so he would just stop talking after a while, especially when he feels like you aren’t hearing him. 

but the thing about hee is that he never calls you your actual name. it’s always ‘babe’, ‘beautiful’, or ‘baby’ and if he does call you by your name then that’s how you would know he’s livid. which isn’t that often—but nonetheless, he doesn’t talk after a while. especially if he gets so angry to the point where he just retracts. he hits you with the ‘mhm’, ‘yeah’, ‘i get it’, and everything else just so he doesn’t have to tell you that you’re right or that he was being dramatic.

— how he would make it up to you

like i said, after his fit of silence, then he would apologize whether he was wrong or not. he doesn’t like to be wrong but would not risk you over some stupid ass argument about who didn’t clean up. but like i said, he’s a very masculine guy and prides himself on being a good counterpart to your femininity. he feels that you shouldn’t have to yell, nor should you have to overexert yourself to make a point to him. especially when it’s both of you guys’ job to have healthy, safe conversations with the other. but no one’s perfect and that’s not going to happen every single time. “you were right, and i’m sorry. i don’t like to see you yell or anything because that’s not what a lady should do, and i’m sorry that i brought that out of you over something so silly. i love you and never want to put you in a position like that.”

from there, heeseung would give you space if that’s what you wanted. but he would still let you know how apologetic he is by going to get your favorite snacks and setting up a cute at-home movie date. or if you aren’t up to that, he’d cook you dinner and talk to you about how you’re feeling for as long as you need to.

he isn’t perfect and can acknowledge that, but he loves you and will do anything to make sure you know.

park jay

— what he does

jay’s very calm and likeminded, but almost annoyingly so. he doesn’t like to fight and neither do you. but regardless, fights happen but if anyone were to be loud, it would be you. you’re not above raising your voice, and a part of you feels so stupid because as weird as it sounds, you wished he’d get angry. but he just sits there, listening—of course, frustrated—but still actively listening and you would be like “does what i’m saying mean anything to you?” and he would nod quaintly, “it means everything to me, you mean everything to me and that’s why i’m just trying to figure this out.” “jay, you know you can yell back right? no, not even yell. just act like you give a shit.” “i can give a shit and still not yell, you know that right?”

he tries to hear you out but then he just finds himself getting irritated at your lack of understanding at times. but he wouldn’t back down, nor would he let you walk all over him. I feel like when you really start to push him is when he’d snap. “okay no, i’m not doing this with you if you’re just gonna speak to me like i’m a child. i’m your equal as you’re mine, be a fucking adult and stop speaking to me like i’m not a grown man.”

— how he would make it up to you

you both take some time away from the conversation and reconvene when you’re both calm. funnily enough, in the early days of your relationship, you both promised each other that during a fight you guys had to hold hands. especially when you both felt it was necessary. so as you guys hold hands, like you do every fight, you hear each other out. you apologize for the wrongdoings and neglection between the both of you. “i’m sorry for cursing at you earlier, i was frustrated but that’s not excuse. you are my woman, my love and you deserve more than the lowest words that leave someone’s mouth being spewed in your direction.” you both laugh at his cheesiness, but nonetheless you forgive him because you in fact did need that wakeup call.

he spends the rest of the day giving you space if you so choose. if not, then he just hangs out with you and does whatever you want. watching tv, playing games, just chatting, it’s simple moments like these when he remembers why he fell in love with you in the first place.

sim jaeyun

— what he does (& how it starts)

jake is such a sweet person, such a soft, kindhearted individual and i feel like it would take a lot to get him truly angry. with people like him, either they’re super sensitive or it takes a lot to really get them there. how he is with others, we don’t know. but with you, he loves you so much that he’s more than willing to be patient with you. “ok, she had a bad day. let me give her space.” “she just gave me an attitude for no reason, let me just make her something to take her mind off what’s bothering her.” and he lets you slide, he doesn’t say anything. he just shows that he cares and leaves you alone. but one day, one fateful day, when you come home and give him an attitude when he tries to ask you about your day “hi, my angel. how was your day?” “jake, not now. just leave me alone.” he just can’t hold back anymore. “ok, don’t take this the wrong way but…what the fuck is your problem these days?”

this would send fire through you because you’ve been waiting for a reason to take your anger out on someone. “why the fuck are you speaking to me like that?” and this would open the floodgates. “because you’ve been speaking to me like i did something to you. you’ve been in a weird mood these last few days and i’ve been letting you slide but now this is getting to be too much. i’m not a fucking doormat. you may be in a bad mood but i’m your man, and you’re gonna respect me.” “but i’ve just been in a mood and you keep sweating me!” “you think i give a shit about a mood? you—babe (this is where the aggravation comes in)…then you say ‘baby, i’m not in a good mood and i would like to be alone for a while.’ you don’t shut me out for 2 days and then get mad when i confront you about it.”

— how he would make it up to you

ok he did in fact eat you up just then! but still, you may be pissed but what makes sense, makes sense. “you’re right. 100%. i should’ve spoken to you about it and asked for that space. i’m sorry for the way i spoke to you, i love you. i hope you can forgive me.” it really is that simple but jake is still frustrated and at this point comes to tears because he feels hurt that you didn’t even trust him enough to come to him about what was bothering you and it even boiled over to this point. at this point, he would start having doubts about him as your boyfriend and this would eat you alive. But he would apologize himself too. “i’ll always forgive you, always. but this can’t be happening, it’s fine if you come home after a hard day and you want space. that’s more than okay, but when you start getting disrespectful for no reason is where i draw the line. we’re adults here and this is not something that we should be engaging in if this is how we’re gonna be communicating from now on. this has to be fixed. now, because that was crazy.” 

you agree, and for the rest of the day talk as long as you guys need to, you talk about what was bothering you in the first place, also setting new boundaries to ensure this doesn’t happen again!!

park sunghoon

— what he does (& how it starts)

sunghoon is a very quiet person, though he isn’t emotionless. he loves you more than you’d know and at times he doesn’t necessarily know how to show it. i’ve said this before so this isn’t news. if it’s anything outside of an ‘i love you’ then it’s just not him. but, i think there will be a day where you’re feeling extra affectionate with him and he’s just not feeling it. it starts super small though, just how clingy you’re being. but he’s literally just not reciprocating. he’ll just brush you off with a “not now, i’m not in the mood.” which is confusing, because yes, he’s allowed to not be in the mood but even when you aren’t in the mood, you still show up for him when he needs it the most. it’s just a mix of you feeling rejected, unwanted, and his own selfishness.

so when you do bring it up, he just doesn’t see much wrong. “why are you being so mean to me, sunghoon?” “i’m not being mean, i just don’t wanna be bothered.” 

he’s not trying to hurt you, but he lowkey sucks at expressing his own feelings when he’s overwhelmed or off. he probably shuts down emotionally mid-argument, giving those short, clipped answers, and might even physically distance himself like, “i need a minute.” it’s not mean, it’s just peak avoidant attachment type of behavior on his end.

— how he would make it up to you

once he has time to sit with his feelings, guilt hits hard. he hates knowing he made you feel unwanted, especially when you were just trying to be close. he’s so bad at verbal apologies at first, but you’d definitely wake up to him being extra sweet—like bringing you coffee. but because he’s so uncomfortable with verbal affection, he’d write you a little letter to truly let you know how apologetic he is. as he’s giving you this letter, he debates reading it to you, or handing it to you then scrambling out of the room. but scrambling out is the exact reason he’s here in the first place. so he goes with the former:

“dear my star, 

i have absolutely no sort of emotional wherewithal and this is just my way of telling you that i love you. i love you so much it makes me feel like love isn’t even the right word to use in the context of you. i don’t ever in my life want to make you feel like you cannot talk to me, like you’re an impudence when you are really the best part of my day. nothing makes me feel better than when i come home after a long day then to see your face. even hugging you close, smelling your perfume while i stink from the sweat and you shouldn’t even be hugging me because you just showered. but you don’t care, you just want me. i’m sorry for making you feel like you’re not the best fucking thing to happen to me. i’m sorry for not giving you what you need at moments when i feel like i’m not up to it. when there are days you’re clearly not up to it and still give me every last inch of you. i promise that i will adhere to your love languages, even though that’s something i should’ve been doing already. i love you, my star. and please, whenever i slip or anything, remind me of this promise. the promise we both made to love each other through the speedbumps and hiccups to the mountains and heart attacks. but i am promising that i will work to become the best partner for you until the day my maker calls me home. i’m nothing if not a man of my word.

love always,

your moon, sunghoon”

he’d be smiling while you're nearly in tears and he’s just laughing at his little rhyming scheme. “get it? moon? sunghoon?” and you’d just call him a fucking loser and give him the tightest hug and sloppiest kiss he’s ever gotten in his life.

but he’s made very good on his promise. telling you he loves you and fully indulging in anything that you want to do and he finds that he quite likes being affectionate because it makes him feel so good to see you feel like you’re well taken care of. because as long as you’re with him, you are.

Copyright: © zorange13. 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, copy, or distribute without permission.

[russilton]

George has opened up a bit more about his dad in a new article for the daily main (without paywall below) and it's a genuinely gut wrenching read. If you want to go in knowing while George doesn't acknowledge it as such, his descriptions of his dad's behaviour are very clearly abusive.

It’s poolside at the Ritz-Carlton, South Beach, Miami, and a sun from central casting beams down. Just beyond the adjacent cream sands the day before a shark was spotted amid the white caps of the Atlantic.

Some observers gawped. Many recorded the scene on their phones, quelle surprise, while those in the water rushed to dry land with almost comic alarm, the terrified tripping as they waded to safety.

Now all is quiet, and staff bring over watermelon juice as George Russell sits down to talk. Aged 27, the Norfolk-born driver has contended with the sharp-toothed critters of Formula One to emerge as the outstanding British performer of today.

His consistently accomplished drives for Mercedes this season, and the end of last, underline his rightful status as successor as team leader to no less than Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time world champion he acknowledges as the GOAT.

Russell’s route to Formula One was not travelled on a red carpet. He picks up the story of a hard taskmaster father, Steve, and his protective mother, Alison, of their parental rows over his treatment, and the £1.5million they scrimped and saved to fund his career – and tells for the first time how he has now repaid them every penny of their investment.

‘It was hard,’ he says of his father’s tough love. ‘From the age of seven to 16 you are not mature enough to recognise what your parents are doing for you.

‘My father was working every day from seven in the morning to nine at night to earn his money to take me racing at the weekend. As a kid you question, “Where’s dad?” Oh, he’s at work. “Why’s he at work?”

‘And then we go racing and he is quite stressed from his job. And if I was making silly mistakes, he’d be dead angry with me. In those eight years, there were happy times, but there are lots of sad memories from my parents fighting because of how hard my father was being on me. My mum was trying to hold it all together.

‘It was, “You’re not winning.” The expectation was to be on pole and win every race, at least always be on the podium. Even times when I did win, it wasn’t sunshine and glory on the way home. It was, “But you could have done this better, done that better.”

‘He has moulded me into the guy I am today. He would always want the glass full. He would see where I could have improved while never seeing the positives. I continue the mentality of looking at where I could have done better, while ensuring I see the positives. Otherwise, it can be a very slippery slope.

‘I can now see it with my brother: his kids are starting go-karting and he is working his a*** off to give them the chance. Life isn’t simple, with the stress of work and the rest. And I will forever be grateful for what my dad did.’

‘I just accepted the way he dealt with me. I accepted that if I didn’t win, he wouldn’t be happy with me. And that the journey home would be a long one, and most likely end in tears.’

Did young George get the silent treatment?

‘No, I’d be b******ed,’ he recalls. ‘I see it now that kids who are born with a silver spoon in their mouths don’t have the same work ethic as those who had massive discipline over them from a young age.

‘My father was working every day from seven in the morning to nine at night to earn his money to take me racing at the weekend.'

‘If I could turn back the clock knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t change a single thing’

‘So, from my father’s perspective, would he wish that for those six, seven, eight years that he had a closer relationship with his son? Maybe. But those years set me up for life.

‘If I could turn back the clock knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t change a single thing.’

How is Russell’s relationship with your father now, I wonder. Closer?

‘Hmm, yeah,’ he says. ‘What was amazing with my father is that when I was signed by Mercedes (on their Young Driver Programme eight years ago) he opened the cage door and let me fly.

'It went from being a super-controlling, super-emotional, b******ing every time I didn’t do well, to suddenly feeling he could pass me on to the next chapter.

‘Now he supports me from afar every single session. He is taking care of grandkids.’

Steve Russell was involved in agriculture, a seed and wheat merchant – his factory a first port of call after harvesting prior to distribution. ‘He sold the business to fund my racing,’ adds Russell. ‘In 2012.’ Russell was just 14 then.

‘For where we lived, my father was an exceptionally successful man. But in that industry success was making a profit. Now we are in a world of unrealistic wealth with billionaires around us.

The Norfolk-born 27-year-old has now made 133 grand prix starts, with three race wins

Mercedes boss Toto Wolff’s ardour for world champion Max Verstappen seems to have waned, just as Russell’s results increasingly make their own argument

He is out of contract this year but remains confident of re-signing. His results should make that a slam dunk

Russell's new Mercedes AMG One, which has a top speed of 219mph and accelerates from 0-186mph in 15.6sec

‘We could have lived a very happy life had he not done that. I have paid everything back that he spent on me. I made it clear that as soon as I made money, I wanted to pay everything off. It was about £1.5m.’

The dividend can be measured, among other achievements, in the car Russell has just bought – the AMG One supercar. A limited edition of 275, the coupe was initially listed at $2.7m (£2m). It has a top speed of 219mph and accelerates from 0-186mph in 15.6sec.

It is the first car Russell has ever bought, having started on the road in a white Polo bought by his parents – 60bhp, top speed of 100mph with a following wind. And there was no reduction for Mercedes’ top driver for his new car. He chose a navy blue that glistens in the sun. His racing number – 63 – is inscribed at his request.

He intends keeping the car forever (despite receiving an offer worth double what he gave for it), to go with his company G Wagon and the vintage 300 SL he hopes to add to his portfolio.

Three cars – that’s ‘all’ he wants in his garage at home in Monaco; no huge collection. All are Mercedes, we note, a telling symbol of his commitment to the Silver Arrows.

He is out of contract this year but remains confident of re-signing. His results should make that a slam dunk. Both he and boss Toto Wolff are talking optimistically of a successful conclusion, probably this month or next.

Helpfully, Wolff’s ardour for world champion Max Verstappen seems to have waned, just as Russell’s results increasingly make their own argument.

With Russell in Miami, as she is at most of his races, is his Spanish girlfriend Carmen Montero Mundt, 26. She did not know he was a racing driver when he stood in for a friend who was due to go on a date with her. That was in London in 2020. She is upstairs on the terrace as George and I talk. He pays her this tribute as his rock in a volatile world.

With Russell in Miami, as she is at most of his races, is his Spanish girlfriend Carmen Montero Mundt, 26

The Mercedes driver has paid tribute to his girlfriend, labelling her his rock in a volatile world

She did not know he was a racing driver when he stood in for a friend who was due to go on a date with her back in 2020 in London

‘As for Carmen I feel lucky having her around. She is my emotional support in the world of instability I live in.'

‘I left school at 13 and have very few friends to be honest,’ he says. ‘It can be a lonely life. You are in different hotels, different countries, different time zones, different climates.

‘Mondays are emotional hangover days after a race. A slap in the face if you are on a high after a good result, and a slap in the face after a bad one if you dwell on it. I play padel to get my mind off things, rather than sit inside scrolling through social media.

‘As for Carmen I feel lucky having her around. She is my emotional support in the world of instability I live in. I wouldn’t change anything in my life now or what went before.’

Now he is off for a run – a peaceful 7km, next to the ocean where the sharks prowl.

[nerdygirlramblings]

This story, like all things, must come to an end. Thank you for joining me and for the love and support you’ve shown this little idea that would not let me go. (It's a long one.)

Through the afternoon, Jon and the others keep you company, following in your wake as you continue your daily routine. But it is hard to focus with Jon's words ringing in your ears. They are here to claim you. To somehow take you to Fjall Gothar. To be Queen of the gods.

The day passes in a blur. When you have unguarded moments, one of your gods whispers how they will take you from your people, how they will worship you in more than just your dreams.

You do not fully understand their plan and are distracted throughout the feast. The Elders, even those who don't fully believe, speak of the work of the gods and the blessings your people have received. It is clear from the conversations around you other villages have started worshiping the ancient gods and are experiencing similar blessings. You cannot keep your eyes from your gods as you hear a woman talk about the dream one of the farmers in her village had that helped end a strange crop blight. Or how in another, members of a scouting party deemed dead finally made their weary way home several moons later, hurt and hungry but all alive.

Once the meal is over and the hall is cleared and set with beds for the visitors, you return to your home to find Jon, Tav, Gaz and Si already there. They are smiling at you tenderly, a look of pure devotion on each man's face. Si comes to you as you close your door, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace that lasts for long moments. When he steps back it is only to position himself better to kiss you. It is the first time any of them have been so intimate outside of your dreams. You moan a little and melt into the kiss. Tav tugs your arm, pulling you to his side before crashing his lips down on yours. He tastes like sunshine as he slips his tongue into your mouth. When he lifts his head and lets you gulp a lungful of air, Gaz slips in behind you and whirls you around. You don't register it happening before all you smell and taste is him. Lush and filling, like the abundance he can rain down if he chooses, kissing Gaz feels like it's everything you'll ever need. Until a firm set of hands land on your hips and removes you from Gaz's hold. "My queen," Jon whispers, lust and love weaving themselves through his voice before he pulls you flush against him and claims you with a kiss so scorching it burns away the thought of anyone but them.

"There is no moon tonight, my queen. We will leave when the village is sleeping, and we shall leave no trace. Tomorrow, your home will look as it does now, but you will be gone," Jon states.

You rear back. "But what about my people?" you ask, afraid. "How will they know how to worship you without me?"

"Even now, when we are about to reward you with everything you deserve, you think of others," Gaz sighs, placing light kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. "You are truly a queen, love."

"You have shared what you learned," Si says quietly. "Each morning you work, you invite others to join you. Thone, Unnr, Astridr, Vigi, Bui," he lists several of those who have been touched by their blessings, "you've taught them all what to do. And they will teach others."

"Your people will miss you," Tav admits, "but you have given them what they need to continue the work without you."

You look around at your gods, these men whom you saved and who thus saved your people. Yes, you are afraid, but not moreso than the night you made your sacrifice. And now, like your people, you are being rewarded for all you've done. "I am ready," you say with more conviction than you feel.

Jon kisses you one more time before sweeping you out the door.

The trip to Fjall Gothar happens in a blink. One moment you're viewing the night sky from the front of your house, and the next you are above the stars, looking out into the vast darkness. Jon leads you through the palace, Gaz, Tav, and Si trailing quietly behind you. Though you'd seen it in your dreams, hearing your steps echo in the halls is altogether different. When you reach the throne room, you're surprised when Jon steers you onto the large, ornate throne you had seen all those weeks ago. "My queen," he says reverently. "Your heart saved us all, and it is a privilege to have you here, in this place of honor."

It is strange, adapting to life in the palace. As a goddess, an idea which sits uneasily on your shoulders, you no longer have need of food or rest, though both can exist if you wish them. You are often in consultation with the gods about life in not only your village but in more places than you knew existed. Unlike the others, you have no defined sphere of influence, instead leading with the heart that first sought out these ancient gods for help. Your days are filled with the same care and consideration for others you've always had, applied to humanity far and wide. At night, you're entangled with one or more of your lovers.

And lovers they truly are now. Your bed never lacks for company.

No one is surprised when you bear a set of twins - one boy and one girl - who look like Gaz. Next is a daughter whose eyes could rival Jon or Tav, followed by a son whose build is purely Si. And you are not the only one to fill the palace with the sound of children. Las and Wel build themselves a girl child of clay and a boy child of cloud, breathing life into each in turn. Fra and Lex have several children too. As they grow, the children become gods and goddesses, claiming various facets of life to protect.

Generations pass and still you sit in your place of honor, ever focused on protecting others. With your children and their children and their children's children, you urge them to find ways to watch over things in a way that will allow them to continue living and not be forgotten as so many of the original ancient gods had been.

One morning you are gripped by a desire so strong, you cannot ignore it. You dress in clothes you've seen others wear before leaving the palace for the mortal realm. Though Jon, Gaz, Tav, and Si all offered to accompany you, they did not attempt to force their company on you. It warms you after all this time to know they care deeply for you and trust your judgement.

You find yourself on the road to your old village, walking a path you used to know by heart but which has changed in the years since you left. There are more people now, more homes, more spaces to gather. Many people look up and wave as you enter the village, and you are greeted by a pleasant-looking man who introduces himself as Lars. "I am one of the leaders of this village, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to it," he says, nodding his head. "Have you come to see the shrine?"

"Shrine?" you ask, remembering the small altars you'd built on the border between the village and the fields all those years ago.

"Yes," Lars replies. "It is our pride and joy, and many come to see it and pray to the gods."

You remember the pilgrims who were with your gods the night you left the village. You aren't sure how to respond, so you simply nod your head and say, "Yes."

Lars leads you past buildings whose inhabitants and purposes you knew a lifetime ago to what had been the main meeting hall. You remembered seeing your gods there over dinner, the first time they'd come to your village in human form. Little about the outside of the building has changed, but as Lars opens wide the doors and ushers you inside, everything is different.

The altars you'd built were tiny and modest in comparison to what you see before you. Ranging along three walls of the meeting hall are large, ornate altars. The largest ones are along the wall directly across from the door. There are nine in total, but the five in the middle are nearly as tall as you. Lars names your children, their children, and children of the other gods as he points to various altars along the long walls. The pride in his voice at how well the people tend the altars and worship the gods is unmistakable.

Finally, he stops at the far wall, pointing at the five largest altars, and you gasp. Before he says anything, you point to each and say, "There is the altar to the god of death, and that must be to Gaz, here is the one for Tav, and this is clearly Jon's. But what of the altar in the center? I do not recognize it."

It is beautifully carved with images of soft rains and fertile fields, of fish and game and wild berries, of babies and the elderly. It is obviously well taken care of. Lars quickly glances at you before focusing on the altar. There's a hitch in his voice when he finally speaks. "Legend has it our people were dying. Wars and famine gripped us. But then we were saved. One woman somehow brought a miracle to us. The gods began blessing us. Our crops grew strong and plentiful. Fighting stopped and trade with our neighbors began instead. Less than two years later, the woman disappeared." Lars turns to look at you. "We know it is but a legend, but we believe she left us to bring miracles to others, as word soon spread of how our neighbors began to flourish too. She is the reason we are still here, and so we worship her as the queen of the gods, the heart that saved us all."

series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hidden-treasures21 @lostintransist @sirbonesly @lilynotdilly

[lunamoon1239]

“I don’t like that you’re having a good time when I’m not even though you’re actually just making the best out of your shitty situation”

I mostly slept through my sick days, or puked through them. I have had hypothyroidism my whole life, went undiagnosed until age nineish. It still hasn’t completely set in how close I probably was to falling into a coma. It’s been over a decade and, on that front at least, I’m much better. Instead of being nearly every day, sick days are far and few between and less severe when I do have them. But I’m still always tired. No matter how much I sleep, and I sleep a lot, the tired never goes away. And because I was untreated for so long and the treatment took a while to really start helping and I was so young my body got all fucked up. I’m in near constant pain, often to a debilitating degree. I can barely walk 5 blocks anymore and I used to walk a mile home from school. I do nothing all day. I lay in my bed on my phone or reading or drawing. Sometimes I muster up the resolve to go out, but never alone unless it’s to the store for necessities. I can’t get a job in my area because all the jobs available would require standing/walking/carrying things which I cannot do. Many people have told me I’m lucky and they’re right I am. But not in the ways they think I am. I’m not lucky because I get to stay home all day, I’m lucky I have a home. I’m not lucky because I don’t have work, I’m lucky my mom can (barely) afford to cover the cost of both of our lives. I’m not lucky that I missed more school than I didn’t, I’m lucky that my brain was capable enough to keep me from failing. Please stop treating disabled people like the effects of their disabilities are bonuses to them. I wasn’t at school, I was in agony over a toilet or unconscious having exhaustion induced nightmares. I’m not at work, I’m changing position in bed every five fucking minutes because the parts of my body that are holding weight have reached an unignorable amount of pain. None of our “lucky” things come without outweighing downsides. We are just trying to find any joy or relief. Let us.

Kinda wild how most people generally recognize that the "too sick to go to school, too sick to watch tv/play games" mindset our parents had was bullshit but still impose essentially the exact same rules on disabled adults and scrutinize them for enjoying low-energy hobbies while being too fatigued or in pain to work a full time job (or any job at all)

[wanderingbue]

Turns out, Wilson thinks he’s gay.

He drops that bomb on a Thursday night, sitting on House’s couch, where they’re splitting a greasy pizza and a large order of onion rings. Wilson’s not nearly drunk enough for it to be a joke, is the thing. His hands and voice are steady when he explains how it’s haunted him since he was a teenager, how he ran from it and into three failed marriages, how he cheated because he liked the thrill of the chase but was always unsatisfied with the outcome. He wants to tell the important people in his life to ask them for support in this new era, and House is the first one to know.

And yeah, it could explain things. A lot of things. Like the haircare routine, the regular mani/pedis, the shoe collection. This wouldn’t surprise many people. But House isn’t sure he believes him.

Still, Wilson is his best friend, so he tries.

He doesn’t interrupt the first time he sees Wilson getting a little too close and smile-y with a male nurse. (He interrupts the second time, because he knows that nurse is a vegetarian, and House can’t have that influencing Wilson’s cooking and takeout habits.)

He doesn’t sabotage Wilson’s first date with another man. (He does steal Wilson’s phone the next morning and delete the guy’s text asking for a second date, because anyone asking so soon is desperate, and Wilson can do better.)

He tells Wilson which shirts, ties, and pants make him look gay, only this time, he means it positively. He starts TiVoing Queer as Folk for them, instead of The L Word. He offers Wilson poppers one weekend, then has to explain what they are, and how he came to find out about them in the first place (he used to rave in the 80’s, so what?).

House is being supportive, really. Even if he still doesn’t totally buy that Wilson is actually gay.

Mostly, he doesn’t think Wilson is gay because nothing changes.

Wilson still comes over most nights to watch trash TV and drink beer. He still dutifully drops his responsibilities at work, albeit briefly, to provide a diagnostics consult, or to assist in some borderline illegal scheme. They still hang out, and argue, and laugh, and bicker, and celebrate wins together, and are there for each other in the quiet aftermath of loss. They’re still the same.

Maybe Wilson is just confused because he expected to have a wife and kids, and to live in the suburbs by now. Maybe he thinks the reason for this heteronormative failure is that he’s been chasing the wrong kind of tail, instead of the fact that he spends half his time at work and the other half with House, leaving no room for anything or anyone else. And maybe House should feel guilty about that, about robbing Wilson of the life he deserves and forcing him into a fake midlife sexuality crisis, but he doesn’t.

He sort of feels bad about that part, though—the fact that he doesn’t feel bad at all.

But he’s forced to acknowledge his faults when Wilson approaches him in his office one night, trembling before he can even get the words out, I can’t hide how I feel anymore, I need to tell you the truth.

House accepts that he’s selfish because he lets Wilson kiss him breathless, knowing Wilson will never be able to kiss anyone else like this again, knowing that when he tells Wilson to take him home, he’ll never be able to leave. Now he gets it all, the early mornings and the late nights, the warm beds and the cold shoulders, the biting words and the gentle apologies, and every jagged edge left will be weathered by time.

He understands that he’s greedy because he drinks up all the praises and pleading, every filthy word Wilson moans into his ear and whispers into his skin. There’s a lifetime of hunger behind it, a cosmic collision of pain and joy and grief and devotion. It’s a wine aged for twenty years between them, bottled want and yearning, poured into an overflowing glass.

He recognizes that he’s possessive, because he knows he’s got him now, and it's for good. There’s no more sharing attention, or waiting his turn, or swallowing the bitter bile of jealousy. Wilson will stray from any map to follow his true north.

So, whatever, maybe Wilson is lying about being gay, but at least House is honest about being worse.

[taintedtort]

" BRAT VS GOOD GIRL! "

summary. do they prefer brats or good girls?

characters. iwaizumi, akaashi, kuroo, kenma, nishinoya, hinata, daichi, kyotani

warnings. nsfw/snut!!!, afab!reader, post!timeskip

a/n. i saw someone else do this but i forgot the user!! :(

☆ — IWAIZUMI

quiet bratty girls. he enjoys a little bit of sass and mouthing off, he thinks it’s cute. it keeps things from getting boring. he‘ll get you back for all the little comments and eye rolls you give him, don’t worry. you won’t have the brain to talk back when he’s got you bent over the bed with his cock jamming into your spot over and over.

"told you to shut that shit up— now look at you, baby."

☆ — AKAASHI

good girls. he likes a girl who will play with his hair and read with him. a girl who will stay up late when he’s at work for a few extra hours. a girl who will gladly let him devour you for as long as he wants. he likes when you get all whiny and squirmy, but of course you’d never push him away whenever he spews encouraging praises at you, gently shushing you whenever tears start to roll down your cheeks.

"so good for me… shh, calm down, love."

☆ — KUROO

semi good semi bad. he likes a girl who can have a little attitude, but will still get on her knees whenever he asks. it’s a bit cute whenever you get mouthy with him, but it never lasts for long. a simple kiss and a redirecting word, and you’re melting for him.

"why are you being so difficult, babe? cmon, i know you can be good."

☆ — KENMA

good girls. bratty girls are too much work, and he doesn’t always have the energy for it. he likes girls who will play games with him and cuddle up in bed with him all day. and a girl who will ride him without complaint when he’s feeling too sluggish to do any work.

"you’ll ride me? really? …that’s sweet."

☆ — NISHINOYA

somewhat bratty girls. he likes the chase to be honest. it’s endearing how you try to act like your little panties don’t get wet whenever he’s around. don’t worry though, he’s very determined. he‘ll have you under him eventually, taking his cock with rapid thrusts.

"think it’s funny making me wait? hm?"

☆ — HINATA

good girls. loves a girl who will cheer him on during his beach games, even when the hot sun is beating down on you. especially loves a girl who will let him fuck after a loss— or even a good win. he likes to get the rest of his adrenaline out, or let his frustrations out. whichever one he needs, you’re there waiting to bend over, offering your tight cunt.

"gonna let me fuck you, baby? yeah… as a reward for the win."

☆ — DAICHI

good girls. as a police officer, it only makes sense that he’d enjoy a nice, sweet girl that listens to him and doesn’t cause any trouble. might be okay if you were teasingly being a brat, just as long as you go back to being his perfect girl once he gets his hands on you.

"you’re cute, babe, nice try."

☆ — KYOTANI

both. he kind of needs a girl who can keep up with his attitude, he can’t handle a girl that’s too soft and sweet. a girl with a bit of feistiness to keep him in check, but also a girl who will be patient with him. he definitely prefers someone who is more pliant while getting fucked though. the way you just move into whatever position he wants, and the way you whine and cry his name is all so addicting.

"take your panties off and turn around."

[dannyriccsystem]

congrats on 1k! can i get 18 and 25 with lewis please? ;)

CRAWLIN’ BACK TO YOU.

1K SPECIAL - LH44

Comparing hand sizes + “suck on it.”

SUMMARY: What was meant to be you innocently commenting on the size of your boyfriend’s hands turned into you on your knees for him real fast.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: Blowjob, hair pulling, soft dom, size difference (if you squint)

FEATURING: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

NOTE: I SCREAMED. I LOVE LEWIS. Anyway I lied NOW I’m going to bed… Expect more tomorrow

THE DAY HAD BEEN MUNDANE in the way where nothing seemed over the top. All the shows on TV were uninteresting, all the chores were fairly simple, all your friends were busy… It was yet another lazy Sunday where you ended up at home with Lewis. At first it felt, to a limited extent, boring.

You finished up what you wanted to do around the house for the day, wiping your hands off on a towel before choosing to join your fiancé in the living room, where he idly focused on some show he had been binging lately. You didn’t understand the plot, but in your defense, he was already halfway through when you started to watch it with him.

He was sitting like he always did, arms lazily draped over the back of the couch, his position lax. Lewis had one leg crossed over the other, his ankle resting atop his knee. There was nothing off about this, but when you were bored, your mind typically wandered to the most peculiar places.

His ring-clad fingers tapped against the cushions, those eyes hyper focused on the screen. For some reason, knowing one of those pieces of jewelry tied him directly to you sent a fluttering straight to your core, and seeing him so focused didn’t help either. He usually only had that look when he was racing, and it was just as hot now as it was then.

His gaze was dragged away when you stood in front of him, effectively blocking the TV screen. He tilted his head, “Yeah?” And, fuck, his voice…

You held your hand out, palm facing upwards, like you were waiting for him to hand you something. Of course, his confusion worsened as he stared at you expectantly. Lewis waited for an explanation, but didn’t get one. With bewildered hesitance he placed his hand in your palm.

You expertly shifted your hands around, intertwining your fingers with his. His hands were much large than yours, palm easily engulfing yours. “I never noticed how big your hands were,” You muttered. The look in your eyes could only be described as hypnotized. Lewis tenderly squeezed your hand, and in your somewhat entranced state, he helped you lower yourself to the ground.

“What about it?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he stared down at you, shifting around to get more comfortable in his seat. This day was suddenly starting to look a lot more interesting for him, because he’d have a pretty little thing to keep him entertained. You finally looked up at him, your sultry eyes too sweet for him to not want to ruin. You looked like you were waiting for his every command. “You like ‘em?”

Lewis pulled his hand away from yours, which then fell to rest on his thigh. Meanwhile, he trailed his mitt up alongside your cheek, caressing your soft skin. His touch was lighthearted, like a gentle breeze kissing your warm skin.

Then he dug his digits into your hair, yanking on the messy locks. You gasped, your pupils blown out wide as you stared up at him like a goddamn deer in headlights. You were not making this easy on him— Not in the slightest.

“I do-” You finally replied. Your voice was shaky, weak, pretty. So fuckin’ pretty, just for him. Just for an ounce of his attention because that’s the kind of woman you were.

The tension in the air was thick. There he was, large hands gripping your hair whilst you both made direct eye contact. In spite of his aggressive mannerisms, his eyes held that signature kindness to them. This was all for the hell of it; he’d never truly hurt you.

“Suck on it,” He suddenly commanded. His tone held authority and power that made you drool on the spot. You opened your mouth to speak, but you were quickly silenced with a soft, “Shhh.” He leaned back, head tilted up ever so slightly. He was literally looking down at you. “Use that pretty mouth for something good.”

You obeyed, and that’s how he knew you were loving every minute of this. It didn’t matter how bold he got in bed because if Lewis did something you didn’t like you’d tell him right away. This was the man you were marrying for fuck’s sake. You knew each other better than anyone could ever understand.

With that same weak, lovedrunk expression, your small, petite hands tugged at the waistband of his grey sweatpants, which did wonders at outlining the tenting of his hardening cock. There was no secrets with those on. He lifted his hips, helping you slide them down to his ankles, leaving the man in just his boxers.

You leaned in, slowly. If you moved too fast, his hands would surely tug you back at the hair and you’d get a good scolding. His smug expression grew as you kissed his exposed thighs, your left palm teasing him through the thin piece of fabric, applying pressure to his erection.

He started to get impatient with all the waiting, and Lewis tugged the damn things off himself. His impressive length sprung free, nearly slapping you directly in the face. Through thick lashes, your eyes drifted up to look at him. Everything about him screamed power, which turned you on even more.

You started by licking along the underside, your tongue tracing a rather prominent vein until you reached the mushroom-tip. You kissed the top, feeling his entire cock twitch as a positive response. You had yet to receive verbal feedback of any sort, which meant you’d have to try harder.

You knew from experience it was impossible to fit the entire thing inside your mouth. You briefly spit on one hand, using it to stroke the base of his dick. You leaned in, tongue laying flat back against your chin as you wrapped your lips around the tip. You suckled tenderly until you heard a faint grunt. Success.

“Yeah, just like that,” He whispered, adjusting his hold on your hair. With those words of encouragement, you brought in your tongue to swirl around his evidently sensitive tip. Lewis’ hips involuntarily bucked forward, forcing himself deeper into your mouth. You were surprised, but you adapted rather quickly.

You maintained confident eye contact, searching his gaze for approval with every bob of your head. You idly traced shapes into his thighs with your freehand, and your right one continued stroking him from the bottom. He watched with darkened, lustful eyes as your cheeks hollowed, eyebrows tilted with pleasure. He didn’t even have to touch you for you to get off.

“Keep going and I just might come,” His voice was somewhat shaky, making the fruits of your labor suddenly seem a lot more obtainable. Just an arm’s length away. With another jerk of his hips, Lewis’ other hand flew down to hold your back of your head, easing you further and further down. “Come on, almost there.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, but you refused to give up here. Still maintaining that eye contact, you took him deeper. You took him faster. Finally…

He leaned his head against the back of the couch, grunting and gripping your hair. A thick, warm, salty solution spilled down your throat in spurts, his warm cock twitching and spasming from within your mouth.

When he finished, you pulled your lips off with a satisfying ‘pop!’ He eased his grip on your hair, smoothing it back and brushing a strand behind your ear. Then, he wiped some of the cum dribbling from your plush lips away. That dirty, filthy smirk had long turned into a loving smile.

“You did great,” He panted out, slightly breathless.

“Let me grab a towel.” Maybe you did all the work, but you just made the man come harder than he ever had before.

The least you could do was offer to clean him up…