#i am nothing if not a supporter of women’s wrongs

[fruit-bat-gran]

T’Nia Miller the woman that you are

[musical-chick-13]

The problem is. When I go, "Oh, this system is bullshit" and try to live outside it. My choices are still defined by that system. And that makes me feel really weird.

[dirty-bosmer]

Me talking about Lucien Lachance: Sick little freak (derogatory) Die

Me talking about Arquen who has 5 lines of dialogue and is canonically rumored to have feasted on his remains: My quirky girlfriend who deserves love and respect. They hate to see you winning, queen. ily girl.

[smalltownfae]

Why are so many adult wlw contemporary romances involving a kid in some way? It's great that it shows that moms can get involved in queer relationships and all, but where are the ones not like that???

I am trying to find good ones to add to my list and it's the 5th one today that is like "and there is her kid"... damn it. That is not what I'm looking for. And people wonder why some stuck to mlm romances instead?

Anyway, I found 2 potentially interesting wlw ones so far. If there is a surprise kid not mentioned in the synopsis I swear I will not pick another one again.

[antiqua-lugar]

the confrontation at the altar and benedick's proof of his love being the fact that he stays behind and believes the women

[magdaclaire]

fuck it i like becky i think she's cute

[quitesins]

Deku’s Type!

Masterlist

Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is implied to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!

The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…

“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.

Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”

Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.

Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”

“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs, “you have such a type!”

Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.

“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.

Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”

Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.

“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.

“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”

Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.

“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”

“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts, “they’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”

“Yeah so he can fucking fix them,” Katsuki snorts.

“It’s your saviour complex,” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.

Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”

“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”

“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”

Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.

“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”

Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.

It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—

“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.

“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”

“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more that familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”

This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.

Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.

Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.

Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.

My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…

Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Is it really right to just carry on as before and pretend that nothing has happened?

Hiya. No.

I think everyone needs to think whether they are capable of separating the fandom and Neil Gaiman.

I could tell you to consider that Good Omens is also Terry Pratchett, David Tennant, Michael Sheen, all the people from cast and crew and people connected with various other editions.

But the thing is, that fandom are fans. It is all those wonderful people making fanart, fanfics, videos and all kinds of impossibly brilliant fanworks. It is people meeting each other whether in person or virtually and admiring each other cosplays, telling each other that they see Good Omens references in real life everywhere and being supportive of each other.

The first Ineffable Con was in 2019 in UK and I wasn't able to visit and in the following years it was (because of covid and to be internationally accessible) only online - this year being the first one it its hybrid form. I was there in person and met dozens of absolutely wonderful people. And that helped me with decision to stay in the fandom.

So no, don't pretend nothing has happened, but it doesn't mean that you have to leave the fandom - a place that you may consider your safe space - either.❤

-

If you don't know what I am talking about or are still in shock... I've been in shock for weeks, trying to hope that for some reason the Neil Gaiman allegations of sexual assaults are a bad dream, a misunderstanding, a conspiracy or me just being kidnapped by aliens and returned to a wrong kind of reality. So it took me a month before I was able to gather myself to scourge the internet for info. Unfortunately all points to that yes, Neil Gaiman is a sexual predator. Using his fame to lure in young women or groom them, manipulate, use and hurt them and using is money and connections to avoid any consequences. It all points to that his bumbling funny persona is actually a front and he is actually a very smart man, using his charisma and eloquence to persuade people of all kinds of things, posing as a feminist and ally so it would be harder to speak against him. Yes, it fucking sucks.

Anyway, this is a good page to catch up on the things.

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | ONE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.

That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”

“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.

Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.

A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.

“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”

He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.

“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.

“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”

“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.

“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.

“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”

You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”

“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”

“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”

When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.

From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.

He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.

  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]

When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.

You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.

“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.

He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.

“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”

Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.

Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”

Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely,” you puff out.

“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.

“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.

Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.

“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.

“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.

Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.

“I was just asking, Jesus.”

Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”

“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.

“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”

“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”

Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”

San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.

You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.

“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.

Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.

His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”

“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”

Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.

“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.

With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”

“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”

Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.

“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”

You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.

“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”

He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.

After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”

“Of course!”

When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.

On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.

“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.

“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”

“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.

“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”

The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–

“_____?”

You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.

“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.

Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.

“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”

“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”

Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”

You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”

“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.

“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”

Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  

Not tonight.

You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.

“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”

While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.

When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.

“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.

“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”

That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.

“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”

“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.

  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  

Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.

But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”

That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”

To which he never declines, naturally.

Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.

“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”

A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”

He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.

“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”

He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in crimson as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.

“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.

“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.

You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.

“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.

“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.

“You don’t even know the price of it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”

“Yunho…”

“Don’t even give me that, ____.”

The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.

When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.

As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.

“I can get you an Uber if—”

“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”

That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.

Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.

Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.

“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.

While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.

“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.

He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”

“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”

Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.

Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.

Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—

He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.

Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.

“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”

Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.

He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”

“You’re fine, no worries.”

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”

You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”

There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.

“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”

Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.

“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”

Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…

After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.

But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.

“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”

When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.

“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.

“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”

“Neither am I.”

At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.

“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.

“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.

“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”

Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”

In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.

“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”

Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.

You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”

Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.

“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.

You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.

“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”

Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.

It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.

It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.

It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.

“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.

“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.

The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.

“Take yours off too?”

Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.

“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.

Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.

His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.

“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.

“You know what I mean.”

Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”

Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.

“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.

He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.

“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”

Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.

He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.

“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”

Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.

The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  

“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”

When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.

“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.

“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”

“So fucking good.”

Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.

He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”

“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”

You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.

“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”

You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.

Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.

Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.

He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.

Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?

Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?

Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?

All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.

He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.

He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.

  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]

Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.

Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.

  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]

To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.

  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]

He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.

  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]

Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.

Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.

At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.

You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.

On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.

“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.

To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.

“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.

“Don’t.”

“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”

You employ a small pout to boot.

“And you think I believe that?”

“I think you should believe it.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!

“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.

You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.

Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.

“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”

He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”

You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”

“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”

Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?

“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”

“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.

“A mistake?”

“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”

You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”

“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.

“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”

When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.

Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.

“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.

“Boo, why can I never know anything–”

“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”

“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.

A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.

“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”

“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”

“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”

“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”

Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”

You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.

“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.

You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.

“That was quick,” you giggle.

“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.

  Fuck.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”

“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.

You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”

“Just give me five minutes, please.”

You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.

“Spit it out already, Yunho.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.

Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”

“Thought it was a mistake–”

“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”

“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”

There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.

“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”

You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:

“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”

“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”

“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”

“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”

You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.

♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr

[sterredem]

The Tortured Poets Department

F1 grid x Driver/singer!reader

Face claim Olivia Rodrigo

Summary She’s the first female driver in a long time. But that isn’t the only thing she can do.

Warning hate, sexism, not proofread, spelling mistakes

A/N I love this. This was supposed to be apart of the four series but I will not be making that so now it is a one shot. I will not be making another part with this character, I will make a few more gifs like this type.

Also the dates and spelling in the video and the fic is also wrong because I made this a few months ago. So don’t mind that and ignore it.

Don’t forget to repost and comments. And feedback is appreciated❤️🫶

Instagram

liked by Prorsche_F1 and 675.309 others

Yourusername P1 BABYYY!!! And for that lovely podium here you get a bit of a photo dump🫶🫶 thank you for all the support!🫶❤️

View all 1.957 comments

Conangray P1 baby!! Ur such a cutie

Yourusername Ur a cutie!

User1 Always knew you could do it!

User2 I just know you will be World Champion!

Porsche_f1 So proud of u!

User3 I love the difference in the pictures! With the 1st few being racing and then being silly

User4 She doesn’t deserve it!

GracieAbrams what happens with the car in the 6th picture??

Yourusername Nothing!!!!!! I promise!!!!! I am a professional racing driver!!!!

GracieAbrams Yeah…! Sure…!

Yourusername I promise! It is nothing! It was just a little accident!

GracieAbrams Oh yeah sure! @Conangray you believe this?

Conangray Oh of course! It was just an accident!

GracieAbrams YOU WHERE WITH HER?? Why didn’t you stop her?!?!

Conangray As I said nothing happened!

User5 I love how everything is car related but very subtly

User6 How is she friends with so many singers??

User7 well it is only 2 and they know each other through being famous

User6 still! Isn’t it weird? She has also interacted with bigger singers like Taylor swift, Lana del Rey and Billie eilish

User7 it is probably just because they are all successful women! And they have all been in the paddock!

User6 yeah, probably

User8 she doesn’t deserve it! A lot of other drivers did better than her!

User9 So happy to see more females in motorsports!

User10 doesn’t she look a bit of to you? In a few of the broadcasts she looked really tired and pale.

User11 it is probably just stress from the racing. And she said that she doesn’t wear make up on race day so maybe it is that too.

User12 notice how non of the other drivers comments or like her post? It is like they are ignoring her.

User13 it’s because they didn’t want to have any cheating rumours. Some of them said that in an interview

Susie_Wolff Good job Y/n! Proud of you!

Yourusername Thank you Susie! It was good to see you again!

User14 it is so sad to see how little drivers interact with her. More people have talking with Logan then with Y/n

User15 Omgg your right! I have noticed it too. It is her 2nd year and a lot of the drivers (especially the younger ones) are avoiding her or have never talked with her!

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A few months later (the last race)

Instagram

Liked by Porsche_F1 and 1.235.632 others

Yourusername World champion! Whohooo! Thank you so much for all the support and being with me on this journey! I had an amazing season and hope that there are many more to come! And this is only my 2nd season! Again thank you everyone for all the support and the congratulations! Love you all!

View all 6.367 comments

User1 GOOD JOB Y/N!!!

User2 I WAS RIGHT!!!! Congratulations Y/!!!!

User3 Congratulations Y/n! You deserved it!

Conangray THATS MY BEST FRIEND PEOPLE!!!

Yourusername YOOHOOOO!!

User4 undeserved!

User5 You don’t deserve it! It is a man dominated sport for a reason!

User6 She only got in to F1 Because of her connections and her looks! I wouldn’t be surprised if she slept with someone for this!

User7 So happy her and her ex broke up! He didn’t deserve her!

GracieAbrams SO PROUD LOVE!!

Yourusername TKANK YOU!!!!!

User8 I understand why the drivers don’t talk to her. She is so annoying!

User9 Happy to finally see a female win in motorsports!

User10 HAHA THE 8th PICTURE IS SO FUNNY!!!!

User11 So happy to see her happy!!

User12 I am still a bit confused about why not any of the driver interact with her! They didn’t even congratulate her! Only the older drivers did!

User13 So proud of you!

Susie_Wolff Congratulations Y/n! I am so proud of you! Liked by author

User14 Such a slut!

User15 Kys! Nobody likes you!

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A week later

Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 1.846.721 others

Yourusername here’s a toast to my real friends🫶 After a busy season it is always good to return to the people that you love🫶🫶❤️

Comments are limeted

Taylorswift Always fun to hang out! We need to do it again soon!

Yourusername Always! I had a lot of fun!

Honeymoon It was great meeting you! Hope to see you again!

Yourusername Teah! Totally! It was really nice meeting you too!

KiraKosarin Lovely to see you again!

Yourusername Yeah for sure! We need to do it again! Liked by KiraKosarin

TateMcRea OMG I AM IN THE PHOTO DUMP?!?! Jokes aside I had a lot of fun!

Yourusername Of Course you are!! And I also had a lot of fun!!

IrisScot Ugh I hadn’t seen you in so long! You really are a busy girl!

Yourusername Yeah you’re right! I promise to make more time for you !!

GracieAbrams I am so happy you used that picture and not a different one!

Yourusername Yeah, I thought I would be nice. And now I still have black mail material🤭🤭

ConanGray u r a cutie pie🥰🥰

Yourusername no you🤭🤭

MadisonHu I am in it twice??? Omg you love me!!

Yourusername Ofc!!

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The beginning of the season (1 or 2 races in)

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 1.764.975 others

F1 Kimi Antonelli is set to replace Y/n y/l/n for the next races.

Y/n has due to personal reasons decited to give the seat up to Kimi.

We wish Y/n a good time and Kimi a good start in F1

#f1 #y/n_y/l/n #kimi_Antonelli

View all 8.642 comments

User1 Oh?

User2 good luck Kimi!

User3 sad for y/n, happy for Kimi

User4 This really is silly season. First Ollie and Carlos and now Kimi and Y/n

User5 wow f1 debut at 17??

User6 I’m curious what happens with Y/n

User7 yeah same. It must be something big because she can’t race

User8 So happy we have finally gotten rid of her! Kimi is 100% better then her

User9 does anyone know how many races he will replace her for?

User10 No! The only thing we know is that it will the upcoming one and then maybe a few after that.

User11 poor Y/n

User12 She deserves it

User13 so happy to see her gone!

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Messages

|———————————<3—————————————|

YouTube (after the insta announcement)

|———————————<3—————————————|

Twitter

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 7.836.836 others

Yourusername The Tortured Poets Department out now🩶🤍🖤 this is a project that I have worked on for quite some time, and I am incredibly proud that I can now share this with you all. All is fair in love and poetry…

View all 836.836 comments

Taylorswift So proud🫶

SabrinaCarpenter Album of the year🖤

GracieAbrams Some of the best work ever🩶

ConanGray I helped y’all! Jokes aside I am SO proud of you of you🤍

Charles_Leclerc Amazing!

User1 OMG?!?!

User2 AN ALBUM?!?!

User3 This is just amazing

User4 …this is better than any spoken explanation we could have gotten

User5 I knew that she liked poetry but this……

User6 THE TITELS ARE INSANE!!

User7 So a girl who drives in circles is now also a singer and songwriter?? And very talented at that?!?!

User8 Slut?!?! Omg she in love in love

User9 first of; who hurt her?!?! Second off; who is the person?!?!

User10 just saying the cover art is amazing

User11 am I the only one that thinks there is more??

User12 yes

User13 🩶🤍🖤🩶🤍🖤

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Honeymoon and 9.835.736 others

Yourusername Suprise! The Tortured Poets Department is a double album! I have written so much these past few years that I couldn’t fit in in one. And a few of these songs are to beautiful to not share with the world. 15 new song. The story is y mine anymore… it’s yours.🩶🤍🖤

Comments are disabled

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[gurugirl]

STOPPPPP IT THE SHORTS ARE SO SHORT! WTF THE TIGER IS SHOWING! OMG Y/N WOULD GO CRAZYYYYYYY OVER IT. okok so maybe y/n gets jealous that Harry was wearing such short shorts in public that she ends up getting moody and Harry makes it up to her by letting her ride his thigh and fucks her saying stuff like “y’know this cock belongs to you darling” and stuff 😩😩

HAPPY FRIDAY YOU GUYS!!!

PLEASE I've been looking at these pics all day. What is this man thinking????????? I cannot handle him. He's such a tease. And I wrote this way too fast. Sorry if it sucks but this picture deserves a smut piece written about it. He's too fucking hot.

1.6k words

warning: mostly plotless smut, not proofread whatsoever

Y/n was used to Harry being ogled. Always the hottest guy in the room with the most charisma and charm. Everyone flocked to him and everyone's eyes always followed him. He was magnetic. And he knew it too.

As much as she realized she had nothing to worry about she still got jealous of the attention he constantly got. He didn't even need to try. He could be wearing a backwards baseball cap and loose jeans with a t-shirt and people would still be after her man.

And today, their little break away from the business of life led them to a relaxing little outing in the Italian sun. Before they'd even left the villa she eyed his short green trunks and how his fit torso was in full view, the long sleeved shirt draped over his shoulders, totally unbuttoned.

Biting her tongue, she figured she was being silly wishing he'd cover up a bit. She certainly wouldn't take well to him telling her to cover up, not that he'd ever.

But once they were on the beach and about to board their private yacht she did notice women and men alike watching him. His bronzed chiseled abs and pecs peeking out from the shirt, and of course he'd tucked his shorts up a bit to protect the mesh lining from chafing this inner thighs (he always did that because he said his package was too large to sit comfortably in the lining and it gave him a little extra support). His strong thighs on full view holding his tall frame upright as he carried both of their bags.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her as he helped her up into the boat safely.

He could tell she was a little pouty. He knew her too well. Knew he was being eye fucked by half the beach as they walked to the yacht they'd rented for the afternoon.

"What's wrong, love?" He grinned as he pulled at the strap of her bathing suit teasingly.

"Nothing. Just looking forward to getting out onto the ocean."

Harry crowded her space, stepping in front of her so she couldn't look at anything but him, "Yeah? Is that it? You seem to have been awfully quiet all morning. Nothing else you want to talk about?"

She looked up at him and the smirk he wore told her that he knew just what she was pouting about. But she just shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nope."

The low chuckle that fell from his chest as he pushed her arms down and grasped her wrists made her cheeks warm up, "Liar. You're jealous."

Harry kind of liked that she got jealous. Because in all truth, he'd get jealous when anyone would look at her just the same.

"Am not."

Harry walked her backward as the driver of the yacht began to move the boat out to sea, "Let's go down into the suite for a bit. Need to show you something," he gestured toward the door that lead to the stairs to get to the lower level.

She huffed as she carefully stepped down into the furnished room. It was small but there was a counter with a TV above it, a mini bar with fridge, a bathroom, a sitting area and a bed in the center.

Harry closed and locked the door before grasping Y/n's arms and pushing her toward the bed, pressing his chest into her back and speaking into her ear in a dark baritone, "Let's figure out what's got you so moody. Maybe I can help."

She tried to keep her composure but his voice and his skin and his hands always melted her poise.

When he felt her relax into his hold he smiled and kissed the back of her neck, bringing her into the bed with him, "There we go."

Y/n climbed into the middle of the bed and sat on her bottom as Harry spread out next to her, "Hop on. Let's talk."

She looked down at his lap and back into his eyes. She knew his plan. It always worked.

Biting the inside of her cheek she quietly moved to straddle his lap but he stopped her from fully spanning his thighs with hers, "Just sit on the tiger for a minute."

She looked up at him like he was crazy but settled herself right over his thigh, the crotch of her swimsuit right on top of the inked tiger on his strong thigh.

"Good girl. See that," he looked down to how she was sitting on him, "No one else gets to do that. Just cause they can see it doesn't mean they can fuck themselves on me like this. Know you like that, don't you?"

She nodded bit her bottom lip.

"That's right." Harry put his hands at her hips and pulled her up and then pushed her back a bit, "Let's see you do it. Show me who this belongs to."

Once Harry got her momentum going she rocked over his taut, muscular thigh gently. Harry kissed her softly and moaned, "See? What they don't know is that this tiger gets his face fucked by the prettiest little pussy. Gets to have your scent all over it. Cause you own it. Don't you, love?"

"Yes." She squeaked pathetically.

She was already so turned on and it wasn't because of the way she was rubbing her cloth-covered clit over his thigh. It was the way he was speaking to her. She could feel herself getting wet slowly and the faster she rocked she noticed Harry's large bulge under his short green trunks.

"Getting him coated, love. Good job, honey. You need a little more? Want to come?"

"Y- yes. I do, Harry..." She lowered her hand from his shoulder to cup his thickened cock, "want this."

"Mmm... want my cock? Want to fuck yourself on my cock? Fuck what's yours?"

She nodded and the look in his eyes turned quickly from soft green to dark and lusty, "Take your bottoms off right now."

She quickly got up to her knees and pulled her swim bottoms down her legs as Harry pulled his green trunks off, his cock bobbing heavily as he leaned his back into the headboard.

She climbed after him, desperate to have him inside of her and she whined as she grasped him and placed his hot, thick crown at her entrance. She paused as she looked him in the eyes but Harry needed her just as much. He put his hands at her waist and pushed her down onto him, groaning lowly at the relief.

"Fuck. This cock is all yours, Y/n. Every bit of me is all yours, darling."

She keened as she felt him inside her guts so deep it ached.

Slowly she began rolling her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down over him, keeping her clit satisfyingly smeared against his pelivs.

"It's mine," she whined as she put her hands on his shoulders and rocked quickly, the sound of her wet pussy sucking his cock in deep sounded between them.

"Yes it is. Fuck it like you mean it, Y/n. Want to see you own it. Need you to milk me dry."

Y/n gasped when Harry put his hands under her thighs and helped her ride him properly. It was always a task to fuck him this way but so worth the view and the orgasm.

She wanted to make him come so hard. Make him dizzy and mushy and drain his balls of everything he had. She wanted his come inside of her where it belonged. Because it was hers. No one could have Harry in this way. He was her man.

"Yes, baby. Riding me so good. Fuck yourself on me deep, honey. Make yourself come on me baby. Take what's yours, Y/n."

Her chest was getting hot and her thighs were burning as their wet skin slopped together each time she dropped down onto his cock, tucking him deep inside of her so his balls were up against her ass.

Looking down between their bodies it was a sticky, creamy mess. The trimmed hair at the base of Harry's shaft was white with cream and his girthy cock was stretching her out so beautifully.

"Harry! Oh my god. I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah?" Harry widened his thighs and bent his knees the slightest bit so he could take her over the edge and fuck into her so deep she could feel his come in her womb. The moment he began to move his hips into her she yelped and gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders sharply, "Who's cock is this, baby? Tell me who it belongs to, honey," his words were grunted.

"It's mine! You're mine, Harry!" Her world was spinning as she jolted up each time he punched into her from his position below. His fingers dug into her ass and he clenched his teeth as he began to throb.

"S'right. This cock is yours. I'm yours, Y/n. Fucking gonna make me come aren't you, baby?"

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open and she grew silent as her orgasm washed over her body. Her ears rang as she pulsed over his cock.

Harry choked out a loud moan and filled her to the brim with himself as he stilled his hips and his thigh trembled at the exertion.

Gasps and soft inhaled breaths were stifled when Y/n pushed her lips to his and pressed her chest into his tightly, her arms wrapping around him.

Harry grunted a laugh and pinched her bottom and she jumped.

"Told you I could help. All better now?" Harry cooed at his sweet girl.

Pulling back to look at him she smiled, "All better now."

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[wosoragebaiter69]

late

barça femeni x teen!reader

request: here & here

A/N: i love everything about this request. (i did make lucy ona and keira a throuple for the memes)

also Asisat has left.. no more dedicated funny person in my stories 😔

TW: Panic Attack

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

You’re late. You’re never late. That’s how you end up on the phone with Ona, stressed and out of your mind.

“I’m not sure Ona! All I know is that my period is late, and I am FREAKING out, so god help me and come over please.” You’re borderline screaming at the phone.

“Ok ok, please just calm down I’ll be there soon. When I get there you better have an explanation of why you think you might be pregnant, you are literally 17.” You can hear her disappointment.

“Yes I know, I know. Just get the tests please.” She says yes and promptly hangs up the phone as you go back to worrying.

- - - - -

All was going well for Ona, she bought two tests which were different brands and payed for them without getting recognised by any fans. She opts to not buy a bag, considering it’s 8pm at night. It’s not like she was going to run into anyone anyways, right?

Wrong, immediately as she walks out of the pharmacy, tests in hand she bumps into not only her captain. But 1 of her 2 girlfriends as well.

“Uhh, what is that?” Lucy says, looking down at the tests in her girlfriends hand.

“I, uhh.” The younger spaniard starts to freak out, not wanting to put you in a vulnerable position.

“Tell us.” Alexia says sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Well, it’s not for me. It’s for… it’s for Y/N.” The older women look visibly shaken and shocked.

“Disculpe!”

“Qué?”

They speak at the same time.

“Ok, I’m about to go to her house. Lucy you can come with me and Ale you can come if you’d like.”

“I’ll leave the nena to you both, just update me ok?” Alexia is concerned, rightfully so. Ona and Lucy nod, before getting in the car and driving to your place.

- - - - -

You open the door, surprised to see not 1 but 2 visitors.

“Hola.” You say before allowing them access inside the apartment.

“Sorry, I uh might’ve ran into Lucy and Alexia and I had to tell them.” Ona blurts out, you don’t worry though as it would probably get out anyways.

“It’s fine… can I just have the tests now?” She nods slowly, passing them to you before running off to the bathroom.

When you’ve followed the instructions and done what’s needed, you walk out and place the two sticks on the table, flipping them upside down. Once again you begin to spiral.

“Oh god, what if it’s positive.” You mumble, pushing your knees to your chest.

“Hey, if it is positive we’ll do our best to support you, if it’s negative then there’s nothing to worry about. Might be a cyst or something. Take deep breaths for me ok?” Lucy’s reassuring voice leads you into a less panicked state, and you just hoped that time would fly by faster.

When the timer on Ona’s phone went off, you felt sick. You took deep breaths as Ona scratched your back slightly. You counted in your head to three and flipped both tests open to reveal one negative… and one positive. Oh fuck.

“Ona? Luce? Please. What do I do, I’m scared.” Tears stream down your face, your body starts to shake and Lucy immediately holds you tight against her.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok. It might be a false positive, youre going to be ok I promise.” She says as you’re crying, her words fall deaf in your ears as you can only sob harder. Now going into a full panic attack.

“Call Keira, I’ll message Alexia.” Ona nods and calls the other Englishwoman.

- - - - -

It’s around 5 minutes later, you feel like you’re going to pass out when there’s knocks on the door. You register something else happening and soon enough someone has their hands touching your knees and speaking.

The person takes your hand and puts it agaisnt something that’s beating and you try to get in sync with it.

Soon enough, you regain your senses and it’s Keira who’s pulled you back to reality. It seems she knows you’re back with the look she gives.

“Hey…” She whispers softly, wiping the tears out of your eyes. “Whatever happens, you have me, the team and we won’t judge you at all. Ok?” You nod.

It takes a few more minutes until you’re basically back to where you were. You look up at their curious gazes.

“You can ask questions if you want.” You answer the unspoken question.

“So you… you had sex.” You nod at Keira.

“With a guy?” Ona pipes up and you sigh nodding your head again.

“Ok, how about this. Give it another week and we’ll do another two tests, IF you haven’t got your period by then, sound good?” You half-smile and stare at the table.

“Do you want any of us to stay at all?” You shrug, not even sure what you want at the current moment. “Ok, Keira will stay with you and you’ll go to training in the morning. We updated Alexia and she’s worried. She agrees with us about the waiting and what we’ll do after today. She might want to speak to you tomorrow though.”

“Ok, thank you for everything Luce and you Ona.” You look at both of them, smiling gratefully. They pat you on the shoulder before walking out to presumably go home. Then Keira turns to you.

“I brought stuff over in case, don’t worry about lending clothes or anything like that.”

“Ok… could you maybe sleep- like in the bed with me?” You ask, slightly embarrassed.

“Not at all come on, you need the rest.” She leads you to your room and you immediately crash fast asleep against the pillow.

- - - - -

The next morning when you wake up, you know something has changed. There’s a light ache in your abdomen and your muscles are slightly sore. Keira is peacefully lying beside you and you’re happy that she stuck to her word and stayed.

You lazily make your way to the bathroom to use the toilet when you feel as if God has blessed you. low and behold that positive from the previous night was a false one.

You feel immediately at ease and get done what needs to be done in the morning.

“Keira!” You greet happily, she smiles slightly confused. Considering it’s such a dramatic change from last night.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“I finally got it.” It takes a second for her to register what you meant by that but when she does she’s also happy.

“Well, that’s great. Come on, eat this muesli bar and we’ll get going, then you can tell the girls about it.” You nod and head off to training.

- - - - -

When you walk in the room where all the girls are, the ones who knew look at you in surprise of the look of joy on your face.

“Why so happy cariño?” Ale asks.

“Well it seems like someone has blessed me because this morning I got what I’d been hoping for. My period.” You say dramatically and she smiles.

“YAYY THE BEBE ISN’T PREGNANT!” Mapi’s loud voice shouts as you look down, cheeks turning red.

“Welcome to womanhood elskling.” Ingrid pulls you in and presses a kiss against your temple.

—————————————————————————

i fangirled so hard today on the woso writers discord

[spacerockfloater]

hi! i noticed you learnt about what ryan condal said regarding blood and cheese. it was…something. i would like to know your thoughts on the matter. though it would be completely understandable if you need sometime to gather them together or if you would rather not at all! thank you and bye!

Hello beloved, thank you so much for asking me! I’d love to share my opinion!

If anyone’s wondering, @rhaenelle is referring to this interview where Ryan Condal essentially says he believes that Blood & Cheese’s brutality and heinousness was exaggerated by the Greens in a propagandistic attempt to convince their subjects that Rhaenyra and Daemon are the worst villains ever born, hence why he toned the event down; to show us what he thinks is the accurate version of Jaehaerys’ murder.

Now, I am aware that Condal had already warned us that HOTD was going to be a feminist retelling of the events of F&B, which practically means that his plan has always been to whitewash the everlasting fuck out of Rhaenyra. So what do I think about this?

Well, for starters, I think that Ryan Condal is an excellent businessman. He knows what kind of tropes are going to make the audience engage with his show. He understands that people need a hero to cheer for and a villain to hate, therefore he removed the moral ambiguity from all of the characters and divided them into two categories: the Blacks, enlightened revolutionaries full of passion, deserving of admiration and correct in everything they do, and the Greens, pious fools with a moral superiority complex who are stack in the ways of the past and commit despicable crimes. The average viewer does not possess the intelligence to comprehend that both parties have their good and bad moments, and that they’re both correct in fighting for what each believes is rightfully theirs. Simultaneously, he benefits from the modern trends that want women in media to take revenge when they are wronged and emerge as triumphant girlbosses, because of course a white upper class woman’s suffering in a western world (or Westeros) society has everything to do with her gender and nothing to do with her personality or decisions (even if this works solely for Rhaenyra, because Alicent seems to be held accountable for every single one of her actions). Finally, it is obvious that Condal is trying to appease disgruntled Daenerys fans, so he has rebuilt Rhaenyra into this tortured martyr that wishes to change the world for the better in an attempt to make her resemble her great granddaughter six times removed.

For all of these reasons, I find it very logical that he is going out of his way to minimise the tragedy the Greens experience. It just doesn’t make Rhaenyra look good and honestly, who wants that? The producers saw how unhappy Danny’s stans were when they made her lose her shit; they’re not going to make the same mistake twice. They don’t want their show to tank like the last season of GOT did, so they’ll do everything in their power to keep the audience happy. And it’s working! What’s the last thing Condal says in this clip? “You kinda start rooting for [Blood and Cheese]!” and boy oh boy, the TB stans sure do! Literally hundreds of memes that rejoiced at Jaehaerys’ death were posted on X this week, with tens of thousands of likes. But when Lucerys died, it was presented as the most foul thing to ever happen in the ASOIAF universe. It is the TB supporters that dictate which child murder is good and which is bad, and that decision usually depends on which child came out Rhaenyra’s womb, not let’s say, the fact that one kid was a toddler that could barely walk, while the other was a teenager that laughed at the disabled person he mutilated himself.

It’s all just marketing

That being said, I want to clarify that I understand why Condal and the HOTD producers do what they do, but being a good entrepreneur does not necessarily make you a literary genius. Now, I’m not gonna explain why stripping Rhaenyra off of every character trait that made her interesting is a bad decision and that in their attempt to remove the blame from her so that they can elevate her as this righteous patron of feminism, they’re accidentally removing all of her agency and turning her simply into a victim, because I have a whole blog dedicated to that. But let’s just say that presenting Rhaenyra as this sexually liberated idol that’s incapable of evil, when in fact she’s an entitled aristocrat who’s completely at the mercy of men around her, from her father to her husbuncle, is the most performative activism move ever pulled in recent TV history, as well as pushing the narrative that Alicent suffers from internalised misogyny because duh, a woman can only be good and a feminist if she supports Rhaenyra, not when she pursues her own interests.

Ultimately, I think we just have to accept that this show is not meant for TG fans. We are not going to find any satisfaction in it. Everything that was unique and admirable about the Greens in the book has vanished. Their family dynamic is fucked up, Alicent’s children hate her, Aegon and Halaena cannot stand one another, Alicent is constantly a victim and never someone that chases her own ambitions, Halaena is very vague, Aemond appears to be more angsty than angry, Aegon is a stupid rapist, Jaehaerys’ death was turned into a mockery, Alicole was weaponised in order to make us shit on Alicent and Criston even more and so on. This show barely caters to us because we’re not making them any money.

The reason that there are more TB than TG stans is because (I’m gonna get so much fucking hate for this) most people who watch TV are fucking morons. I swear, when F&B came out 6 years ago, no one gave a flying fuck about Rhaenyra, because we all understood that everyone involved in the Dance of the Dragons was fucked up in their own way and that the message of this story, just like the general message of ASOIAF, is that nobody deserves to sit on that fucking throne. We were all in agreement about that. But then this fucking show came along and all the oblivious simpletons that swallowed whatever the producers shoved down their throats, grabbed the book and decided that “Woah, this book is obviously a critique on patriarchy and Rhaenyra is obviously the victim of the story”! As if GRRM, the man who said that he doesn’t sit down and think “Oh, I’m going to write a woman now” but instead he believes women to be people just like men, with complex personalities, would ever do that. And they just can’t believe that it is possible for book!Rhaenyra to be an evil racist classist full of entitlement! Surely it must be because the Greens are rewriting history! There’s no way GRRM, the man that created Cersei fucking Lannister, would ever make a female character that’s vicious and crazy just because she feels like it! Y’all need to sit down for a moment. I say this as a radical feminist that supports the 4B movement: you’re projecting your own ideas onto George’s work. Not all the media we consume has to reflect our ideologies, but if you think that it has to, then this book isn’t the anti misogynistic masterpiece you wish it was.

Like, when it comes to F&B, I am firmly anti Targaryen and did not wish for any side to win. I wanted them all wiped out to be honest. But when it comes to HOTD, I’m TG basically out of spite at this point.

All in all, I just think that things are going to go downhill for us from this point on. They’ll just keep glorifying the Blacks until the very end.

[angelsofaphrodite]

disclaimer: i dont block out users bc im not a coward.

anyways. i'm so sick of this stupid misogynistic and sexist narrative being pushed from a "girls supporting girls progressive divine feminine" perspective. if you sound indistinguishable from a christian fundamentalist, it's time to review your values.

women are not inherently softer or less capable or more gentle than men. you can choose to live whatever life you want to live, but don't act like shaming women for wanting to live a career-driven life is a "progressive" position. get real.

there is nothing wrong with wanting a life focused on a career. there is nothing inherently "masculine" about being financially independent and i'm sick of these idiotic 1940s sexist ideals being pushed towards young women. if you don't want a life like that, then fine. but do not shame other women or act as if it is somehow against our nature that we can not handle a more difficult career. that's not fucking feminism.

as someone who is a woman of color, a femme lesbian, and a fierce feminist, i'm sick and tired of blatantly misogynistic, sexist, and racist things being pushed underneath this coquette it girl label. AND I AM A COQUETTE BLOGGER. i love this aesthetic and i love hyperfemininity. stop normalizing blatant sexism underneath an aesthetic.

i WANT a career driven life. i WANT to be financially independent and i KNOW that me being a woman does not hinder me from this in any way, shape, or form. being feminine is not equal to being submissive and docile and VULNERABLE in a world that does not want women gaining power and independence.

[tommydarlings]

Mercy | m.v

pairing: mean!dom!max x sub!reader

warnings: smut, chocking, slapping, dacryphilia, spanking, inappropriate usage of a belt, hair pulling, slipknot reference (not an actual warning but i wanted to add it hehe), getting forced to spit cum out, hardcore blowjob

w/c: 2.4K

summary: You were always used to talking back with your bratty mouth and winning the argument in the end, but how is this gonna turn out when you're having an argument with your boyfriend max verstappen? Not very well for you.

song suggestion: mercy by duffy

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +25 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Max is a very impatient person that tends to get angry very easily — everybody knows that, and that’s the exact reason why nobody dares themselves to talk back to the young Dutch driver.

Everybody expect for you.

Growing up with 3 older brothers that sometimes loved to pick on you a bit for fun, taught you quite a lot. You were never able to shut your mouth, you always had to open it and say exactly what you were thinking.

Most of the time it helped you since some people understood the message and left you alone… but some peop-, men… weren’t a fan of your big mouth, like your boyfriend max for an example.

Your boyfriend was only used to people carefully and innocently listening to him, not actually opening their mouth and talking back to the young kart racing talent.

Especially since you were the most innocent and oblivious women he ever met, at least that’s what he taught after the first date the two of you had.

But oh was mad max wrong.

“Shut the fuck up, y/n! I asked you nicely to leave me alone for now, is that so fucking-”

“Do not talk like that to me! Don’t you ever think that you can talk in that tone to me just because you're a man, you-”

And as you should have probably guessed, max hated the fact that you’ve interrupted his sentence and talked back to him.

So he narrowed his eyes at your standing figure before he quickly took long strides over to you and grabbed you by the neck, mercilessly slamming your body against the wall in his driver's room, making you yelp.

For a few seconds he just stared down at your visibly nervous figure, you didn't say anything as well, just looking him deep in the eyes, desperately trying to show him that you do not care.

“Don’t you ever even think about raising your voice like that at me again.” Voice quiet but very stern and strict, “I do not think that I can raise my voice at you just because I am a man, y/n.” Thumb pressing harder into the side of your throat, “But I do think that I can raise my voice at you and speak to you however I want because I know that you would be nothing without me.” He told you harshly.

Then, he raised his other hand to unbutton your navy blue blouse but you didn’t back down, you never back down — so you were the one now to raise your hand and slapped his hand away from your chest area but max hated the fact that you just weren’t able to obey him and be putty in his palms.

He didn’t even say anything, or change his facial expressions, he just quickly threw your trashing hand away and raised his own hand to slap your across the face, eyes not leaving your chest area as he raised his hand again to pursue a second attempt at opening your blouse that’s obviously supposed to represent redbull.

You briefly licked your lips before a grin covered your lips, then you swallowed a tiny amount of fear that build itself up in your throat down and pursued your second attempt at showing him that your not gonna listen to him that easily.

You raised your right hand again and tried to push his big hand away once again, this time you tried to act a little quicker since he almost completely unbuttoned the thin piece of clothing already.

But this time he did look at you. After he pushed your hand away, squeezed your throat harder and slapped you so rough that your head automatically turned itself to the other side, immediately shooting tears into your eyes. You pathetically whined at the impact since it was way harder this time, making him look at you after he unbuttoned the last tiny button.

“If you can’t listen to me, then you have to feel the consequences and believe me, baby,” changing his posture a bit so he stood straighter infront of you, “the consequences that I'm gonna give you are really painful.” he muttered deeply as he quickly removed your blouse, throwing it away before he let go of your throat, making you gasp.

Even though your vision was quite blurry since the slap still hurt like a bitch, you were able to see how max walked backwards and plopped down onto the small, comfy couch in his driver's room.

“Take your clothes off, slowly.” He demanded as he put his arms on top of the armrests and spread his legs, manspreading in front of your still clothed figure as your bottom lip trembled while the tears didn’t stop.

But you only shook your head as you kept your gaze on him, making him throw his back and release a deep and short chuckle.

“You just don’t. want. to. give. up, do you?” Voice harsh and clear but you didn’t care, you just crossed your arms over your chest and repeated your action, shaking your head again.

He briefly sighed before he removed his arms from the armrests and put them on his thighs before he frowned and mumbled under his breath,

“Didn’t even know that I was dating a bitch that needs to be taught some respect and discipline towards her own boyfriend.” He said before he stood up and made his over to his little locker, quickly opening it to obviously look for something specific.

Tears dripped down your red cheeks as he carelessly got a hold of his black, leather belt that he wore today as he arrived at the paddock with his blue jeans and navy blue t-shirt.

If you would think that this is some kind of joke just to make you even more nervous than you already are, you would even laugh but you knew that max was not joking, max was never joking when it came to punishing you for being a brat. If he says that he’s gonna punish you in that and that way, then he’s gonna punish you in that and that way, no doubts.

Without muttering a single word, max sat himself down again, spreading his legs again and motioning your body towards his sitting one with his pointer finger, other hand still holding his belt.

He knew that if you are willing to obey to him, that he doesn’t even need to say anything, you’ll do anything for him without him having to say anything.

And of course, you haven’t made your way over to the visibly angry man sitting on the probably pretty expensive couch in front of you, your ego was way to big for that.

You quickly wiped some of the tears away, briefly sniffing before you stood up straighter and glanced down at the dutch man,

“No?” He asked you, tilting his head to the side before he sighed in a loud tone, rolling his eyes at your childish and bratty behaviour.

“Like I’ve said, little one, who doesn’t want to listen, has to feel.” Max said in a rather calm tone before he stood up, grabbed your upper in a very tight and quite painful way and sat himself down again, throwing you in the process over his thighs.

You loudly complained, trashing with your arms and legs around but secretly you didn’t even wanted to leave his place to be honest, you just couldn’t disappoint your own ego.

“Stay still.” He harshly spat at your trashing figure before he unexpectedly raised his hand and spanked your almost bare ass — great choice to wear a skirt by the way — with his leather belt, immediately making all your limbs stop trashing and gasp in a high pitched tone as tears shot in your eyes, making you grab his racing suit.

He briefly chuckled as he noticed how much you’ve regret doing everything you’ve done earlier, “Oh now we're regretting it? After I’ve told you multiple times already in the past that, that bratty behaviour isn’t gonna get you anywhere in life, especially not when you're with me?” Spanking your poor ass another three times as he went on,

“And your always gonna be mine.” Spank. “You’ll never leave me, “ Spank. “Believe me, I’ll make sure of that.” Spank. He chuckled in a mean way before he swiftly removed your white thong, quickly putting it in front of your face.

“That’s your chance to show me that you are able to listen to me and that I’ve taught you well in the past.” Quickly giving you another hard and loud spank with the long piece of clothing before he continued, “Open. Your. Mouth.” He demanded while his belt glided along your red ass cheeks.

But after a few seconds of watching you removing your gaze from his hand that’s in front of your face and putting your eyes onto your fingers that are currently squeezing his racing suit since the spankings with the leather material really hurt, he got his answer.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath, “If that’s how you want this to go, then so it’ll be, you little bitch,” your boyfriend spat in a raspy tone before he threw your panties away and grabbed your throat, swiftly pulling your head upwards.

His nose glided along the top of your head as he spoke up, “you better not forget that I gave you a choice and you fucked it up.” Spanking your ass with his leather belt again, “So everything that’s gonna happen in the next hour is not. my. fault,” he told you angrily before he spanked you again, making you gasp and cry out as tears covered your vision.

“H-Hour?” You nervously asked him, you’ve never before had sex for an hour, especially not sex that… rough and painful. But you loved it and he’s knows that.

You heard him chuckle as he wiped one of your tears with his thumb away, “Oh you think I’m gonna spank that pretty ass of yours for a few times, edge you 2 or 3 times, slap that little face of yours and then let you go?, no, that’s not how it works, y/n, baby.”

You gulped, “h-how does it w-work, then?”

He slowly retreated his hand around your throat, dropping your head, before he put his big palm on the top of your head and pushed your wet face in the soft material of the couch.

“You’ll see,” he mumbled in a hush tone, Dutch accent covering his voice before spanked your with his belt another five times, making you jolt every single time the hard leather touched your hot skin.

“P-Please!,” you begged in a quiet tone, voice already quite hoarse, “Please, m-max-”

“What? Please what, y/n… say it, c'mon,” he demanded as his hand didn’t stop spanking your poor ass with his belt, other hand still forcing your face down into the couch.

You sniffled before you spoke up again, “Please m-make it s-stop, maxie.”

He chuckled at the pretty nickname you’ve been calling since the two of you are dating, “Do not call me maxie now, y/n,” he said, spanking your ass with the hard leather one last time before he picked your by your hair up, making you gasp.

After wiping some of your tears way — smudging your mascara and also slightly your lipstick in the process — max quickly put his belt around your wrists, tightened it around your delicate skin before he finally looked you in the eyes.

“Get on your knees,” max demanded in a quiet tone.

Since you knew that you’ve already fucked up, you’ve actually obeyed this time and removed your trembling body from his lap and got on your knees in front of the dutch man, closely watching him as he opened his racing suit and freed his very visible erection, tip already leaking with pre-cum.

You licked your lips at the beautiful sight in front of you. You’ve raised your hands to touch him and make him feel good but the black belt around your wrists didn’t allow that, making you gulp as his big hand grabbed your hair, lifting your head again.

“Stop whining, you are the only one that’s responsible for all of that,” max told you harshly, putting a few loose strands of hair out of your wet and heated face, “C’mere,” he mumbled quietly before he forced your mouth towards his dick.

“F-Fucking shit,” he growled as your mouth went around his dick, forcing his dick down your throat until you gagged, “that’s exactly what your mouth's good for and nothing else you hear me?” Throwing his head back as he noticed how tears glided down your cheeks again and how gagging and sloppy sounds filled the air, making him moan.

You choked on his length, obviously showing him that you want to go a tiny bit slower since the pain of his spanking with his belt still hurt like a bitch, but max didn’t care.

He put your hair in a messy and careless makeshift ponytail before he forced your mouth even further down onto his cock, so far that the tip of your nose was already touching his pelvis, making you squeeze your eyes shut as tears already fell onto his thighs.

“Just like that, baby,” the Dutch driver whined in a deep tone, groaning before he went on, “That’s w-what you get for talking b-back to me, fucking h-hell.” Throwing his back and slightly arching his back as soon as he came into your mouth, hand now slowly leaving your head, dropping your hair again.

Max quickly calmed himself down before he looked down at you,

“Open,“ nodding his chin in your direction before you obeyed and opened your mouth.

You don’t have a lot of sexual kinks, but if there’s one thing that you absolutely love then it’s swallowed his cum, it’s basically some kind of prove for you — the prove that you are the only one that can make him cum that quick and like that.

He briefly bit his and smiled as he saw the amount of cum on your tongue, but after staring at it for a couple of seconds he didn’t order you to swallow it, no — he grabbed the back of your neck and swiftly lifted himself up, dragging you with him as he made his way over to the small sink in the corner of his driver's room.

You gasped as he pressed your shaking body against the hard, white sink, brows furrowing at his action, not understanding what he wants from you.

“Spit. It. Out,” Max demanded from you as he put his other hand on your chin, leaning your head forward while his other hand still held your back in place. Your eyes widened before you let his cum drip it’s way down your tongue that was covered in it, making your boyfriend chuckle.

“Good girl.”

[ohara-n-brown]

Hey everyone,

'The New ThoughtCrime' is an anti-trans community detransitioner essay

Just wanted to give a heads up to the FTM community on here that a user named @mewthoughtcrime is trying to repost the 'New ThoughtCrime' think piece from 2017 - tagging it with this such as 'trans man', 'nonbinary' and 'transandrophobia'.

However this blog fails to mention that the main author of said piece is a lesbian who considers herself a detransitioner. While there is nothing at all wrong with that -

the problem more comes from the fact that said author also believes the trans community is a cult.

This quote comes from the author's interview with Genspec - an organization that pretends to be trans supportive, while also believing trans kids are a myth, trans men are just confused teen girls, and pushing the book Irreversible Damage.

The author also believe in the idea of 'cotton-cieling' - a terf dog whistle that implies trans women intend to force lesbians to sleep with 'males who identify as lesbians'.

The think piece is NOT at all about trans men or transandrophobia.

It's about detransitioning from a woman who believes the trans community engages in 'thought reform' - in a way akin to cults.

The piece reads largely inspired by 'Irreversible Damage' - an anti-FTM shred-piece. This is basically J.K Rowling ideology.

They're in their right to repost whatever they want, especially if that piece of writing specifically spoke to them and other detransitioning folk.

However I do think it's incredibly disingenuous and sneaky to not include this information - or the true nature and intention of the work - in the Tumblr post, as the original author was very clear in stating so.

To post such a piece without tagging the detrans community is a disservice to them and a deliberate choice towards us.

The piece is not at all about transandrophobia - the OP is simply mistagging it to target particular groups - mainly, actively transitioning FTM who are looking for community.

This isn't to say you can't read and enjoy the piece, or connect to it. You absolutely can, it's about someones valid personal experience (well - some parts.) that's eloquently written.

What I do not support however is posting such material, purposely and vaguely mistagging it, while not explaining the contents, the context, and the intent of the author clearly.

I believe readers should always be informed about the source and intention of the writers of the information they received.

People should be allowed to make informed choices about what they read and involve themselves in - whether that be trans politics, or reading think pieces online.

That's why I am making this post.

'The New ThoughtCrime' is an Anti-Trans Community think-piece that targets trans men and lesbians by supporting TERF ideology.

Read with that information in mind. With the situation going on now with staff, I think it's important to be on high alert for indoctrination or misleading literature like this.

By all means, read if you like. I was just not at all impressed with the lack of transparency from @mewthoughtcrime when it comes to detailing the actual contents and source of that information.

It's one thing to call the trans community a cult - before turning around and releasing anonymous faceless think-pieces that you spread around without sources or actively informing others of its contents, in order to purposely get a demographic of people who do not wish to interact with you to unwillingly engage in your rhetoric.

As a essay that calls for 'transparency in the trans community' we can first start by lending some transparency to THIS essay.

Stay safe and stay informed y'all ✌🏾