#i am satisfied wi this

[suuho]

show me there's a reason for you wanting me to die you're far too keen on where and how but not so hot on why.

[grapecaseschoices]

look what i can do now! should i ever learn to gif it's over for you hoes.

[maxlarens]

CL: guess the heat drives people crazy

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you’re not used to having a boyfriend, let alone having a famous one. though you’d like to think you’re taking your new found status as a wag in your stride. charles certainly thinks so. [smau] [part 2 to this fic]

fc: faceless and some alexandra saint mleux

a/n: sorry this took so long! i was honestly kinda unsure how i wanted to do this. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to do a little storyline but i basically ended up just doing a bunch of little snapshots of their relationship 😇

@ynusername just posted…

liked by @rowan, @charlesleclerc and others

ynusername wildflowers, the waves where we met, on the way to our first dinner

chloegarelli i did that!☝🏻☝🏻

⤷ ynusername okay 😐 dont get too big for ur britches

user1 is that……..?

⤷ user2 CHARLES RIGHT?

⤷ user1 yes wtf!?

⤷ user3 you are delusional you can only see his hands

⤷ user2 AND?? he is in her likes

rowan we did it joe���️

⤷ chloegarelli four years in the making iktr

⤷ chloegarelli i’d like to thank the american people and i’d like to thank democracy for this win

⤷ ynusername we are MONEGASQUE?

⤷ ynusername anyway u guys are the most insane couple i have ever met

⤷ rowan and you’re stuck with us foreverrrr

user4 no one is talking about how adorable this is. the waves where we met like UR KIDDING!

⤷ user5 if she is actually dating charles then he is literally the luckiest man alive

@f1wagupdates just posted…

tagged @ynusername @charlesleclerc

liked by @chloegarelli, @ynusername and others

f1wagupdates ‼️🚨 new wag alert 🚨‼️ monegasque painter yn yln has been spotted getting cozy with charles on his yacht. it’s believed they met while on holiday in italy several months ago🥺

user1 fell to my knees in the grocery store

⤷ user1 THAT SHOULD BE ME

⤷ user1 but if it had to be anyone else im glad its her

user2 oh i KNEW that was him on her instagram three months ago. vindication.

user3 stop she is so pretty

⤷ user4 like attracts like

rowan cats out of the bag @chloegarelli

⤷ chloegarelli WE DID THIS EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU

⤷ user5 thank you oh my god

⤷ user6 THANK YOU

⤷ charlesleclerc thank you😁

[❤️ by f1wagupdates]

user7 need to see them together at a race

⤷ user8 CHARLES GET HER ON THE PADDOCK

⤷ charlesleclerc 🫡

ynusername oh my god. not the picture of him pushing me into the water😐

⤷ user9 OH i love her ur honour

⤷ f1wagupdates I’M SORRY!

⤷ rowan don’t apologise its so perfect

⤷ charlesleclerc Stop I tripped!!!!!!!!! I told you!!!!!

⤷ ynusername u did NOT trip!!!!

⤷ user10 they are my everything wtf

@ynusername just posted…

tagged @charlesleclerc

liked by @charlesleclerc @f1 @scuderiaferrari and others

ynusername charles, the week we met we talked about what the monaco gp meant to you. the place your dreams took root, the one race you wanted so badly it hurt, the city you wanted to love you back. i could feel your yearning for that win as deeply as i feel for my own ambitions. i knew then that we understood each other like i have never understood anyone else in my life. and i knew, somehow i knew, that you would be on the top step of that podium. charles, i am endlessly proud of you and all the hard work you did to get here. you deserve this. i love you. and monaco loves you.

user1 charles monaco gp win you are everything to me

user2 they’re in love in love!!! WTFFFF

scuderiaferrari ❤️

user3 god let me have what they have i cant handle this

chloegarelli im tearing up yall are like my babies

user4 HE DID IT!!!!

charlesleclerc oh I love you I love you I love you

⤷ charlesleclerc How would I have done this without you?

⤷ ynusername I am so proud of you baby. I love you ❤️

⤷ user5 this interaction changed lives

⤷ user6 how do i reasonably find love after this. how am i supposed to be satisfied with anything less???

🎨 i just KNOW her caption would make the rounds on tumblr

[hooniebaekgu]

Past Midnight

PAIRING : Park Jongseong x female Reader

GENRE : fluff, smut mostly

Warning : MDNI! established relationship, both are idols, reader implied to be soloist, use of the word 'doll' and 'jongie', implied multiple rounds, unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your wi- sorry) not proofread!!

Word Count : 1.7k

Yukki's Notes : took me so long to find the perfect aesthetic omg

Your relationship with Jay has been nothing short of a roller coaster ride. As idols, you both had some image to preserve.

It honestly sucked that you had to snoop around at ass o'clock in the night just to see your boyfriend, but oh well. And throughout your relationship, Jay had been an amazing boyfriend.

Not that you've been in any relationship before him, but he still surpassed any expectations you've had. Emotionally and physically.

But recently you haven't even gotten to talk to Jay, let alone meet him. He had returned from a tour and was practically locked in practice rooms for their new comeback.

So you weren't expecting him to be knocking on your door past midnight. As soon as you opened the door, you were pushed to the nearest wall, his lips on yours, practically devouring you.

After a moment or two, you kissed back. His hands roaming all over your body, one coming to rest on your waist while the other squeezed your ass, giving it a light slap. You pulled away with a gasp.

“What are you doing here, Jay?” you said, eyeing his lips wet with saliva.

“Not happy to see me?” he said with a pout, feigning hurt. His hand on your waist slowly crept up, softly running against the small of your back.

“I'm always happy to see you baby,” you said, pushing away the loose strands of hair. “but you texted me this morning, saying that you would be busy the whole day.”

He sighed, pulling you closer. His eyes roaming over your face with adoration. “I was supposed to be, but I wouldn't shut up about you at practice. And Jungwon kicked me out, so here I am.” He watched you throw your head back, laughing at his innuendo.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked, and watched you nod your head. “I haven't, I'm hungry baby.” he said in a low tone, giving you those eyes.

“Well what would you like to have Jongie?” you asked teasingly knowing he loved that nickname.

“You.” he said, leaning in and pressing kisses on your neck, you gasped tilting your head back to give him more access.

“Baby,” you say, although your sentence has been forgotten somewhere as he sucks on that spot on your neck. “A-ah, Jay listen” you say lightly pushing him away.

“You have a schedule tomorrow, we need to sleep.” you say taking in his disheveled appearance despite not even doing anything. His eyes were dazed, as if he didn't even hear what you said, maybe he didn't.

“I don't care doll, I'll survive. Although I can't say the same if you don't let me make you feel good.”he said, looking at you with pleading eyes.

Jay saw your resolve faltering, not waiting for a response he picked you up by your waist. You wrapped your legs around his waist subconsciously.

“A-Ahh, Jongie fuck please.” you loudly whined, eyes barely open as you try to give him a pleading look.

Jay had been fingering you god knows how long, you've cum maybe 3? 4? times. And it seemed that he wasn't satisfied.

“Please what doll?” he said, his voice low as he took in your face, you were absolutely gone. And yet begging for more. His fingers were pumping in and out of you fast, you could cum from this but you wanted more.

Normally, he wouldn't even have to hear a ‘please’ from you. He would give you anything you asked for, but today he felt a little mischievous.

He wanted you to beg him, he wanted to see that you wanted him just as he wanted you. He knew you did, but he wanted to see it.

“Jongie please, I-” you said, cutting yourself off and shying away from his gaze. God he loved you, he loved how one moment you looked so sinful yet the other you were so shy you couldn't even look at him

“How am I gonna know what you want if you don't tell me doll? Say it.” he said, fucking menace.

He curled his fingers in you, hitting a spot that had you drooling. He was trying to give you a little push, you were too aware of your actions to beg so he was inching you closer and closer to that delicious sub space.

Your eyes rolled to the back, arching your back as you came all over his fingers, some of it even landing on his wrists. It took you some time to realize that you squirted.

Jay eyed your cunt hungrily, he wanted to eat you out so bad. But that would have to wait, he wanted nothing more than being buried in your cunt to the hilt.

“I want you. I need your cock.” you whined out, brain a mush from the orgasm but still hungry for more. Jay loved how desperate you became whenever it came to sex.

“Wasn't so hard, was it doll?” he said, mocking your shyness.

He did not have the patience to beat around the bush, or even dirty talk you through. Which was huge considering he loved dirty talking.

He got rid of his boxers, pants already gone back when you two were making out. His hard cock slapping against his stomach, precum oozing out as he stroked himself.

He looked up to see you eyeing him with hunger in your eyes. He didn't have to wait more, without a word he lined himself to your cunt, rubbing his tip against your clit.

You both moaned out as his tip finally entered, the burning desire you felt finally melting as he pushed more and more into you.

You felt so full, Jay groaning and dropping his head in the crook of your neck feeling you so tight around him.

“Doll relax, stop clenching.” he said, rubbing the side of your torso, trying to calm you down.

He pulled out, only his tip in you. You whined at the loss of contact, but the sound was caught in your throat as he slammed back in you.

“God, you always feel so good, doll.” he moaned, grinding his hips harder into you.

You let out a long moan, hands coming up to grab at his shoulders. Your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks in your wake, as his hips piston in you, back and forth leaving your pussy a wet mess.

You wrap your legs around his waist, making him go deeper, if that was even possible. He set a fast pace from the start, not giving any thought to your overstimulation, he knew you liked it. “Jay.” you moan, you hold eye contact with him, knowing how much he loves that.

You've never seen him so desperate, his hips thrusting in you almost animalistically. His hands holding you down, making you take everything he was giving.

He angled his hips, hitting your sweet spot, your moans were drawled out and hoarse. He pushed his face in your neck, moaning your name almost in a daze.

He suddenly pushed your legs to your chest, bending you in half. His hips thrusting in you ruthlessly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Hah doll fuck, spot clenching so much.” he moaned out, hot breath fanning your face as his hips seemed to have a mind of their own.

You moaned his name loudly as you felt him hitting your g-spot continuously, lifting your pelvis to meet his every thrust. Your thighs were covered in your arousal, cunt dripping with slick.

His pelvis hitting yours and making loud wet noises, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your cunt squelching and sucking in his cock, wanting more and more.

Jay leaned in connecting your lips, pushing his tongue down your throat. You sucked on his tongue, spit falling down the side of your face. Everything felt hot, it was too much and yet you loved it.

He moaned loudly around your lips feeling you clench around him, he threw his head back in pleasure.

“Tell me you like this doll. Fuck tell me you like me using your cunt to get off.” he said, moaning after every couple words, his deep voice making you clench harder around him.

“H-Hah, fuck yes. Like it so much baby, I love your cock, you make me feel so good.” you said, barely able to speak with how fast he was fucking you.

Jay reached down, rubbing circles on your clit, just how you like it. He drops one of your legs from his shoulder, wrapping it around his waist. Wanting to fuck you deeper, make you cream all over his cock.

His eyes roll to the back of his head feeling you clench around him so tight, your pussy trying to suck him in.

Jay falls forward, his arms barely holding his weight as he continues to piston in you. He wouldn't be able to stop his hips even if he wanted to, the sex felt too good.

He mumbles rushed ‘I love you’s against your lips, rubbing your clit faster. Wanting to make you cum, needing to make you cum.

You arch your back, pelvis rubbing against his as you cum. Your cum making a mess all over his abdomen and running down thighs, but you know he loves it.

Jay's arms give out, feeling you clench around him. He finally let's go, thick spurts of cum painting your walls white. He falls forward, his face buried in your neck as he slowly rides his high out.

You both stay that way for a while, catching your breath from the mind blowing orgasm you've just had. Jay slips out of you, rolling over to lay down beside you.

“Should we just sleep like this?” you ask, tired out of your mind. You were desperately hoping that he would agree.

“Sure.” he said monotonously, pulling you closer wrapping his arms around you and pushing your head in his chest.

You wrap your arms around his torso, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. “I love you.” you mumble, although you were half asleep already, Jay knew you meant it. You always mean it.

“I love you too, doll.” he said, running his hands through your hair till he heard your breath slow down. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, looking at your sleeping face with adoration.

[tetsuslove]

🖤: Can’t stop thinking of Simon with a breeding kink:( so I needed to write this short Drabble about it sobso

Suggestions are always welcome, especially if it’s about Simon <3

︙Husband! SIMON RILEY x Wife!.Reader

Warnings: nfsw! (18+ ; mdni!), breeding, talking about pregnancy, biting, praise, soft! Dom Simon because I love him, pet names, no editing! ( will do it in the morning )

“Go on, love”, Simon groans besides your ear while he speed up his moves, “tell me what we are doing”. Your eyes are maybe closed because how intense everything is right now but you sure can hear and feel his smirk, knowing that he got you there where he wanted you

“Bab-“ you gasps because Simon of hard bites down on your shoulder “what was that, hm? Tell me” he says in a more teasing way but sure sounds like an order to answer him and of course the man he is, he sure gets what he wants

“Baby!”,you scream louder, “we are making a baby!”. And for now your husband is satisfied, loving the idea and action that you can get ( and will be) pregnant with his children, already thinking how you will look all round with his child. Breats full of milk to feed the child. It turns this man into an animal, wanting turn his pretty wife into a pretty mama

“good girl- what a good wife” he chuckles and sits up again so he can see your tits bouncing while you try to hold on the bedsheets with your dear life. “It feels good making a baby, right love? Going to look so pretty with our child- going to spoil you more- urgh.. going to spoil you more than you already are”

And he is a man who keeps his words. Maybe you are already a spoiled wife but you sure can be a spoiled mama too. Trying to make sure you eat and drink enough, so you and your baby are doing fine. You see cute baby clothes? He will buy for you and your child right away. Your feet’s are hurting? Lay down on the couch and he will give you a good massage. Some carvings at 1 am ? Don’t worry, he will drive you everywhere you want, just don’t go by yourself!

— It’s all started when one of his coworkers showed him and the other teammates some photos of his newborn proudly at the pub few weeks ago and somehow the whole baby thing started to haunt him. Like one day, a little boy thought that Simon is his father so he hugged Simons leg giggling while Simon just wanted to buy you some flowers at a flower shop, noticing the child on his legs and calling him “papa! Look at the flowers!! ”. Or when he only saw for a whole day commercials for baby products on the TV and every time he tried to change the Chanel, a new commercial popped up.

But the most important thing why it all started for him to want a baby is because he had a dream of you and him.. and a third family member in your arm. You looking beautiful and carrying the child in your arms, smiling at Simon with so much love that he even fell in love with you all over again in his dream. “Look, Papa is here” you said to your baby in the dream and tried to show your child to Simon but only to wake and to realize what he dreamed about

With all these thoughts he doesn’t realize how strong his poundings are but it sure feels good enough that your brain turns into liquid. He moves a hand from your hips away to massage your one tit. Squeezing it so you feel him everywhere and to make sure if you still have the brain to now what’s going on (spoiler: you don’t)

“Si-Simon, can’t no more” trying to look at him but fail, with the tears in your eyes, you just can see things blurry but that okay, just let your husband take care of you<3

“Go on, love- it’s okay, let yourself feel good.. let go” he huffs and groans while trying to reach his high too, cumming inside your walls and now giving you his babies

“Fucking hell-” he groans while you came too, squeezing his dick inside and finally reaching you climax and relaxes again.. finally your brain can turn into its normal form again

While you both try to catch your breaths, Simon looks at you, at his cute fucked wife. How beautiful you look even if you would say otherwise but no, you are always beautiful and he sure enjoys the view. You and your body in sweat and his cum inside, his babies

He cups one of your cheeks so you look at him, you don’t say anything, just to busy trying to catch your breath but your and his eyes are communicating, telling each other how much you love the other one and giving one last kiss to end the whole making love thing

“You good, love?”he asks, looking a bit worried hoping that he didn’t hurt you in any way but seeing you nodding and smiling, he lets out a sighs of relief. Giving a kiss on your forehead and of course always praising you “you were perfect my love, my sweet wife” and starts his ritual of after care

“Here, something to drink, love. I will now clean you up, okay” he gives you a comforting smile, putting some hair away of your sticky forehead and goes to the bathroom

Now it got you thinking how Simon would be as a dad and you know, that the Lieutenant would do anything to complete his mission

[selfloverrrrrr]

Can you do a non-con fic where the crown prince falls in love with his sisters lady in waiting or maid . Lady-in-waiting/maid reader is a counts daughter .💖(make it detailed) 》 also I love reading your fics sk much 😍

Thank you so much 😊💗

Hope you're gonna like this one too💗

The maid

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, prince Gojo, maid reader, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

Working in Gojo's castle wasn't very easy. The boy who grabbed everyone's attention wasn't satisfied with the thing that I don't want him. I was his sister's maid. That was the only plus point for me. Whenever he comes to flirt with me I tell him that his sister called for me.

These things were okay until he started liking me. I didn't know at first. But then I started noticing things like he's staring at me when someone is talking to him and many more. When I get to know that I started making distance from him. Cause I knew he wasn't a very good man.

One day I was late for work. I quickly ran to the castle. I was Gojo's sister's private maid. I went to her door and knocked on the door. "Princess? May I come in?" I asked. No response came. "Oh y/n... princess isn't home today" a maid said. "She isn't?... then what should I do now?" I asked. "Prince Gojo told me to tell you that he wants you to go to his room" another maid said.

My heart thumped. Why is he calling me? But I had to obey his orders because I was a maid there. I went to his room. Slowly knocked on the door. "Come in" he said from inside. When I opened the door I saw Gojo laying on the bed shirtless. "Oh...y/n" he said. A smirk came on his lips. "You called me?" I asked. "Yeah...my sister isn't home today so I thought why not make you take care of me... close the door " he said. My eyes widened when he said close the door. "I-i....why...the door-" before I could say anything he spoke. "I said close the door and come here.... that's my order " he said.

I took a deep breath and closed the door then went towards him. "Good girl.... now sit here" he said and patted on the bed. I sat down. He took my hand in his. "So? What do you think? How does it look?" He asked. "W-what?" I asked. "My room, darling " he said with a smirk. "O-oh... great " I replied. "It's all yours" he said and kissed my hand.

My hands were shaking I just wanted to get out of here. "Can I.... can I go now?" I asked. "Go?... isn't it your work time?" He said. "Yes but your sister isn't at home today " I said. "Oh darling, but I am.... forget about her... think about me.... you'll work for me today " he said. And what can go worse? I can't say no!

"what do you want me to do, prince?" I asked. "Yeah that's why I like you... you're so eager to do your work" he said with a chuckle. "Get on the bed and take off your clothes " he said. My eyes widened. "What?" I said. "You heard me right " he said with a smirk. I stood up and was about to get out of the room when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. "Ah ah ah.... that's not what I said.... you have to be in the hard way, no?" He said and threw me on his bed. "prince, P-Please... I've to go" I said.

"What you should do is shut your mouth and obey my orders" he said and climbed on the bed. Gojo started crawling towards me. " P-Prince stopped" I said. I tried to get off the bed but he grabbed me by my leg and pulled me back on the bed. " Prince, please stop" I begged but he crashed his lips on mine. Kissing me roughly. Making me breathless.

He started undressing me. I tried to stop him but my strength was nothing for him. He almost took off my clothes. I was just left in my panties. Gojo started licking my nipple. His was so teasing. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I screamed so loudly.

I was a fool... I was so fool! I shouldn't have come to his room and left the castle. When he was done playing with my nipples and boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Gojo please...." I begged again but he didn't listen to me. He brought his face close to my pussy and licked it. "Ummmmmmm..... heaven~" he whispered to himself.

He took off his pants. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " P-Prince no.... please no .... Prince please no... It's too big.... it's not gonna fit." I begged him. "Shhh darling... Don't panic... it's gonna fit... we're gonna make it fit..." He whispered in my ear.

Gojo slowly pushed his whole length in but I screamed with pain. Then he started thrusting in and out. Thrusting became rougher and harder. I was screaming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pleasure with pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thrusting gets faster and harder. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot made my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.

I felt his dick started throbbing inside me. I didn't have the power to speak. It was too much for me. When my warm walls clenched around him he moaned loudly. In a few minutes he came inside me. I could feel his seed spreading inside me. He slowly pull out and threw him beside me. He hugged me and pulled me closer to him and whispered....

"Y/n... do you know how much I craved your attention.... fuck I can't believe that I have you as mine now" he said and bite on my neck. "Why are you crying? Ain't you happy that you'll be the queen when I'm gonna be the king?" He said. My breath almost stopped when I heard. Was he saying he's gonna marry me? So he wasn't doing this for his pleasure...he wants me? I thought. "What?..... you thought I'm gonna leave you?...dumb girl" he said and laughed.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[woozinhos]

i am obsessed w ur writing lol!!! could you do woozi phone sex ? pls <3

Ooo I’ve never tried this concept hope you enjoy it :D

Woozi is sitting in his studio, surrounded by music sheets and equipment. He's been working on a new track for hours, and he's feeling a bit restless. He glances at his phone, seeing that you've sent him a text. He smiles to himself as he picks up the phone, wondering what you want.

"Hey babe," he says, answering the call. "What's up?"

He can hear the sound of your voice on the other end of the line, and he feels a pang of longing.

"I miss you," you say, and Woozi can't help but smile at your words.

"I miss you too," he replies, his voice soft. "But I have to finish this track."

You pout on the other end of the line, and Woozi chuckles at your response.

"Don't give me that look," he teases. "You know I have to work."

But even as he says the words, he can feel his resolve weakening. He misses you, and the thought of you alone at home is making him restless.

"But I'm lonely," you whine, and Woozi can hear the hint of mischief in your voice.

He knows exactly what you're trying to do, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire.

"Don't start with that," he says, his voice a low growl. "You know I can't resist you when you're like this."

You giggle on the other end of the line, and Woozi can practically see the smirk on your face.

"Oh, I know," you reply, your voice sultry. "I just miss you so much, baby. I need you."

Woozi groans, his mind filling with images of you.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters, his hand clenching into a fist.

"I know," you say, your voice dropping to a whisper. "But you love it, don't you? You love the way I make you feel."

Woozi can feel his self-control slipping away, his body responding to your words.

"Yes," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I do. But I need to focus on this track."

You pout again, and Woozi can almost see the adorable expression on your face.

"But what if I want to focus on something else?" you say, your voice dropping even lower.

Woozi takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his grip on the phone tightening. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Oh, I can finish it," you say, your voice filled with confidence. "I just need to get you worked up first."

Woozi lets out a strangled moan, his body responding to your words despite his best efforts to resist.

"You're a menace," he mutters, his hand wandering down to his pants.

"I know," you say, your voice smug. "But you love it. You love when I make you feel good."

Woozi can't deny it. His hand is now rubbing himself through his pants, his mind filled with images of you.

"Fuck," he mutters, his breath coming in short gasps. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Good," you say, your voice dripping with satisfaction. "I want you to think of me. I want you to think of me touching you, making you come."

Woozi groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines your hands on him.

"You're evil," he gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand.

You can hear the sound of his labored breathing over the phone, and you know he's close to the edge.

"That's it," you say, your voice filled with encouragement. "Come for me, baby. Let me hear you."

Woozi's body tenses as he nears his climax, his hand moving faster and faster.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice hoarse. "I'm gonna come."

And then he's coming, his body arching off the chair as he lets out a long, loud moan. He collapses back in the chair, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

"Damn," he mutters, his voice still ragged. "You're incredible."

You laugh softly on the other end of the line, satisfied with the effect you've had on him.

"I know," you say smugly. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."

Woozi chuckles weakly, still trying to recover from his intense orgasm.

"I don't think I'll be able to focus on this track now," he admits, a smile playing on his lips.

You giggle, clearly pleased with yourself.

"Good," you say, your voice playful. "I think you need a break anyway."

Woozi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I suppose you're right," he admits. "But now I'm just going to be thinking about you the whole time."

"That's the point," you say, your voice low and sultry. "I want you to think about me all the time. I want you to miss me and crave me, even when we're apart."

[sweetkpopmusings]

miserable (you & me) | b. chan <3

a/n: for some reason, i always have the urge to write angst for chan. this scratched that itch, but hopefully it still satisfies you with a happy/hopeful ending :,-) pics not mine~

content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1k | warnings: none really! | pairing: bang chan x gn!reader | requests:open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

내가 변한 거라면 다시 돌아가 그때로 / “if i’m the one who’s changed, let us go back to the way it was”

it was not as though chan wanted to end up here either. that was apparent to you by the way his eyes were glassy with tears, by the way he breathed through clenched teeth, knuckles white and begging himself to hold it together. he knew that if one tear fell, if one word cracked, it’d all be over. he’d cry until there was nothing left, and, if he wanted to fix this, he needed to be as close to whole as possible. that was nearly impossible, though. being his whole self when he was on the verge of losing you felt like the biggest paradox he could imagine. yet here he was, living it. 

“chan?” your voice was quiet, wanting to bring him back to the conversation but not wanting to scare him away, “we can talk about this later. i know we both have work soon, and i–”

“please,” he whispered, “don’t go yet.”

you nodded, sniffling quietly yourself, hoping he didn’t hear. he did, of course. chan never missed anything when it came to you. except, he learned earlier tonight, that a distance had been forming between you two. 

you knew it wasn’t intentional, but it was starting to hurt. the way he kept forgetting small promises he made, the way he was late to ninety percent of your plans, the way he was only partially present half of the time he was physically with you. it all added up to a dull ache in your chest. that, mixed with the weight of missing him, meant you couldn’t hold it in anymore. that’s how i know it’s not your fault, and i know you’re trying, but i feel like i barely see you now. even when you’re here with me, it’s like you’re a million miles away. i don’t know how much longer i can handle missing you like this. slipped out of your mouth this morning.

his heart broke when that truth entered his reality. chan felt that he had betrayed not only you but also himself. he cared about you more than anything. how could he be so blind to the fact he wasn’t showing up for the person he loved most? how could he not notice that, despite you filling up his mind and heart constantly, he wasn’t proving that to you through his behavior? 

his heart broke even more with how understanding you were. as soon as you said it, you started rattling off the ways his life got in the way, acknowledging that it wasn’t all his fault. how could you be so forgiving of the stress he was under when it was hurting you? how could you be so patient with him when he had been oblivious to this for who knows how long?

chan held your gaze for an eternity, trying to figure out what to say, finally landing on the simplest truth, “y/n, i am so sorry.”

“i know,” you rubbed your hand gently on his shoulder when he cleared his throat, failing to hide the crack in his voice, “i know.”

he sighed and looked at you, risking the tears to take you in fully, to show his apology through his broken expression, “i hate that i’ve hurt you. i hate myself for it. i…i don’t know. it doesn’t even seem fair for me to be hurt in this situation, and i’m not trying to make this about me. i’m just trying to say that you’re so, so important to me.”

chan paused, pulling your hands into his own to reiterate that you were at the center of everything for him. you were his everything.

“i’ve made a huge mistake, and i hate that this mistake left you isolated. you’re the last person i’d want to feel alone. you’re the last person i’d want to lose. you’re the absolute last person i’d want to feel unloved because i love you more than i can grasp. i understand if you have to leave; i understand if you can’t wait around for me to show up in the ways you deserve. i understand…” he paused, willing himself not to fall apart so you didn’t feel the need to comfort him, “do you think we could go back to before i hurt you? i’ll do whatever you need. i swear; i’ll try anything to fix this before it’s too late.”

chan’s tearful gaze held onto you tightly, and you had to put in as much effort as chan to keep yourself from breaking down into a mess of tears and apologies. his unwavering accountability gave you the hope you had lost. the grace and tenderness with which he treated you never ceased to amaze you. he cared for you; there was no doubt about that. his willingness to grow and his acceptance of your decision pushed against the doubts you had of whether he loved you. sitting there, beside him, holding him and his apologies in your arms, you had no doubt that you loved him enough to forgive him again and again.  

“i think we both know that there’s no going back to before. but, chan, i’m not asking to go back, and i’m not leaving. i’m just asking you to come back to me.”

chan sighed with relief, and the tears fell softly and abundantly. the promise of you not leaving was enough to make chan feel as though he could turn the whole world over, just to ensure you knew how grateful he was for you. a small smile formed on his lips, euphoria in the face of your forgiveness. though he couldn’t be too happy, not yet, not when he felt he hadn’t earned it. you could tell, however, by the look in his eyes, he would not rest until he believed your happiness had returned tenfold. only then could he be fully happy himself.

“what do you need? how can i be there for you? please, tell me, so i can make sure i never leave you alone again.”

you smiled, wiping a few tears off chan’s face. already he was proving to you that he’d come back to you every time, no matter what pulled him away. that, you thought, was enough to know you weren’t alone, not when chan was in your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 12. To be taken over by power

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: fluff, angst, a bit of smut

— WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs

One uses power by grasping it lightly. To grasp with too much force is to be taken over by power, thus becoming its victim.

— Bene Gesserit Axiom

She awoke feeling sore but satisfied. As her mind caught up with her body she realised it was because Feyd had slept on her all night. She opened her eyes to the pale light of the morning and a swath of black sheets tangled all across their bodies. He laid in her arms, his head over her chest, his arms around her waist, his legs curled up innocently. When she stretched and arched her back to put her blood in motion Feyd didn’t stir but his arm tightened around her waist and a hot puff of breath tickled her chest. His face had lost in sleep all of the meanness it had during the day... She smiled and brushed her thumb across the edge of his lips. His lashes fluttered and he grumbled, pouting like a child.

“Don’t wake up,” he mumbled. “I want to sleep some more.”

“But you’re not sleeping now, are you?”

“Then why am I having such a pleasant dream?”

“Do you tend to dream of me?” she giggled.

“Yes. Before I met you,” he answered with a little yawn before his mouth shut tight again and he tightened his arms around her.

She hadn’t had much time after their ‘playing’ with the Gom Jabbar last night to think of what his resistance said about him, although she had realised between shivers of excitement that his endurance was remarkable. She knew he loved pain and that served as an easy enough explanation, but perhaps there was a little more to her na-Baron.

“Since when?”

“A while,” he muttered, nuzzling into her chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

“Yes, well. You’re awfully curious about it.”

“It’s a curious thing, isn’t it?”

“I regret telling you,” he sighed with a sense of finality and she knew he’d say no more.

Her hand found a natural place to rest atop his head and she thought quietly about what he’d just said as she scraped gentle scratches on his scalp. He purred against her like a kitten and wrapped his soft, cold body around her, pushing the sheets away until he was all she felt.

She found herself quite languid that day from when they got out of bed all through to the evening. Feyd took her with him for a meeting with his mentats and drafted a few messages for Giedi Prime — although he asked her to leave the room for the last one, the one he wrote to his uncle — and before she knew it they were having dinner together again. She had almost forgotten all the bad memories associated with that room, that table... She sat closer to Feyd now and felt less fear about it, and what she had gained in calm he had gained in happiness. He smiled more often through the day, enough for her to catch it, and glanced toward her when he thought she wasn’t looking. His gaze was so heavy she could almost sense it on her skin.

“So what did you dream of?” she asked after she finished eating.

He looked at her and kept on chewing, jaw flexing quietly, and pretended not to understand what she meant. He wore softer clothes today — a black Harkonnen robe that covered his whole body and made him that much harder to read. He moved quite naturally in it, unusual for one so used to armour. She smiled at him but refused to indulge his pretence of ignorance.

“You know what I mean,” she said with fondness.

After a lingering glare, he turned his attention back to his plate and busied himself with eating, even if his plate was almost empty.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said at length.

“You’re shy…”

“So what if I am?”

Her smile grew gentler at his admission. It was a rare man who would admit to it without feeling ashamed, even if he sounded a bit defensive.

“I am allowed to be.”

“Yes, you are,” she said. “But I want to know anyway.”

“We all want things we can’t have.”

“Not you, though. Not the Governor of Arrakis.”

“Why not me?” he asked, turning his sharp eyes toward her.

“Well, what do you want?”

He pouted and turned to his plate again, swirling his knife around the leftovers.

She looked at him and kept looking for long moments. He had skilfully diverted the conversation from what she had asked to something else and yet both ends of the conversation were connected. He was being childish, one didn’t need to be a Bene Gesserit to know that. She asked herself what it was about his dreams, or about what they’d done last night, that had turned him so. The answer presented itself rather quickly.

She reached out the small distance and placed her hand on his. He stilled immediately, his grip limp and weak and dead beneath her touch. Gently she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles and brushed her fingers across his soft pale skin. Like a shadow his gaze came up to meet hers and in his eyes were pleas he did not dare voice out. Before long she had risen from her chair and sat in his lap, hands cupping his tense face to brush away the tears he couldn’t spill.

“What do you want, hmm?” she quietly asked, her whisper touching his skin.

Feyd closed his eyes and breathed a deep and heavy sigh, fighting against everything his uncle had probably told him about the Bene Gesserits, about women… The question itself had no purpose. She knew exactly what he wanted. But she wanted him to admit it to himself, to her, and set free those weak and traitorous emotions — longing, loneliness, and pain. What he wanted was both a mother and a lover, a figure in his life unlike any other, a vessel for all the care he had inside of him with nowhere left to spill. She brushed a finger across the dark circles underneath his eyes and traced down his face towards his lips. He was as open as a broken book, a battered gate, a hungry mouth to feed, and she would give him everything he wanted.

“Do you want me?” she asked with a knowing smile.

Feyd frowned, his pride still in the way of him admitting just how vulnerable she’d made him. It almost broke her heart.

“How do you want me?”

His hands left the edges of his seat to come around her waist and hold her. “In every way,” he muttered, opening his eyes but still not daring to look into hers.

“But you know I’m yours,” she said with a barely concealed tease in her voice.

“No, not like that. I…”

She cupped his jaw and let her finger linger on his lips in a way she knew would warm his blood. Feyd sighed and kissed her caressing hand and then his arms around her pulled her in until he could sink his face into her shoulder. She cupped the back of his head and held him.

“I want to be yours, too,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes, a thin sigh of relief escaping her, and she fought back a smile. “I know, I know,” she said with all the soothing she could muster, her hands petting the back of his skull.

“But you won’t have me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true…”

“Is that in your dreams as well?”

He didn’t answer. She kept on distractedly petting him, cuddling him while sitting on his lap and tried to decipher meanings from the way his breath fell on her skin and the tremble in his arms around her.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said.

They went to their shared room together and he sent the guards away before closing the doors behind them. She hugged him from behind while he undressed and laid her forehead on his back. Feyd paused with muted hope but kept his thoughts to himself. She’d come dangerously close to the core of him the night before, cracked him open with pleasure, with pain, and supped on the bitter centre. What she set in motion had the momentum to get her out of there, to save her from the desert planet and out of Harkonnen hands, if only she made sure to fan the flames aflutter in his heart.

“Don’t pretend,” he said, his voice low and sad. “Don’t pretend you care or that you like me.”

“Is it because I hurt you too much last night that you think that I don’t —”

“I just know it,” said Feyd as he stepped out of her arms.

Should she contradict him? Could she? He scared her when he gave in to his darker feelings. It made her feel like she lost control of him. But the prospect of him being wrong scared her even more… She walked toward the window and hugged herself, watching the night fall on Arrakis. Already he was slipping through her fingers and if she only closed her fist he’d slip much more. He was ruled by his emotions but it was a hard task to accept that she was a bit like that as well. He’d never properly grown up, and neither had she, and just like he wanted to escape the constraints of the Barony… She desperately wanted to get away, and knew he was her path toward it. As she frowned at her reflection in the thick shadowy glass his shape appeared behind her, a ghost through the dark. He hugged her from behind much as she had done before but he had shed his clothes by now and his naked arms curled up around her. He rested his head against her back.

“I want to tell you,” he started quietly, “but I know I shouldn’t. I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re dumb.”

“No, you don’t think much of me at all, do you?”

“That isn’t fair…” she said, turning in his arms to look at him. “You’re the one who always leaves me behind. Who has me walk out of the room. You don’t trust me —”

“Because you’re not trustworthy. You say you’re my Bene Gesserit and you let me do things to you that you despise, but deep down —”

“You have no idea what I really think and feel.”

“There it is,” he slowly rasped, his smooth brows casting shadows over his tired eyes. “You don’t think me capable of understanding.”

“No, I know you are very capable,” he said, her hands tightening around his arms. “You lasted an admirable amount of time with the box. Whether it’s because you were tested before or because you like pain, it doesn’t matter. It’s… more than anyone I’ve ever heard of. And your dreams... Your dreams come true, don’t they?”

Feyd pulled away from her as if he could hide in the shadow of the setting sun, but her hands still gripped him and his arms were still around her waist and even if he could have hidden he was all too clearly seen by her.

“Not all of them, I hope,” he muttered.

What is he afraid of? she asked herself. From the sad and worried look in his eyes and from the way he held her she could only guess it was a fear of loss. That was what he’d admitted to earlier, wasn’t it? He wanted to be hers. He feels rejected… Unwanted, she realised. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Sure, she’d given him everything he asked for, both the pleasure and the pain, but fulfilling his baser needs had only opened up his mind to what he really wanted: to belong.

Her grip tightened around his muscled arms and she leaned in to kiss him, but for some reason, she couldn’t. Feyd waited breathlessly for her to close the distance and she never did. The only way around him that she knew was to manipulate him, and she couldn’t do that anymore. Not to the young na-Baron with so lost a look in his blue eyes. She couldn’t pretend to love him, not even to save herself. So she let go of him, withdrew, and turned around. She barely took a step before he stopped her. He slid a finger through the lacing of her dress, pulled her back, and started to undo it.

“You know, I can’t help but respect you even when I hate you,” he whispered roughly. “You teach me new forms of pain each day we are together.”

She smiled to herself. “Do you prefer the type of pain from yesterday?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Frankly? Yes.”

She laughed and heard Feyd chuckling behind her, although there was a string of sadness there. His fingers worked quickly to undress her and he pulled her back into his body, their skin sticking to each other’s. His embrace didn’t last long before he took her hand and led her to the bed.

She let herself be guided, allowed him to take control in a way she hadn’t since she was a child in schooling, taught to move and breathe and think by the Proctor Superiors, only this time there was no design about it. She had nothing to learn, nothing to gain by obliging him, no motivation to pretend. She found herself sitting down before she even realised she’d crossed the room and her eyes searched for Feyd, finding him seated on the bed beside her. His gaze was focused on her neck, her lips, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, and slowly his hand trailed her back in something of a caress. She shivered and then his attention came to her eyes again.

His lips parted, pink and full and boyishly beautiful, but he changed his mind before he said a thing. She wondered what he’d been about to say but it was clear even without words: he was afraid of her, nervous that a wrong move or word misspoken would make her leave. He was overly cautious as he trailed his fingers down her back and curled them around her waist. She let him kiss her without any complaints or attempt at seduction and took the gentleness he offered. And she kept her eyes open throughout to look at his silky lashes, the tender pallor of his face, the way his brows would crease, and found herself admiring him for the first time ever — not for all his qualities, not for the carefully cultivated end results of centuries of breeding, but for his delicacy, his frailty, the way he seemed at times so breakable. She cupped his cheek and leaned into the kiss, surprising him into a moan. She felt his full lips curl and his tongue lap at her skin and then she pulled away. Feyd’s eyes were dark and drowsy, drunk with the closeness of her.

“What did you dream of?”

“You still want to talk about that?” he frowned, sounding quite betrayed.

“No, it’s not to know it. I just want to make it real.”

He bit his lip and sucked in a breath that trembled when he let it go, and around his eyes, she could see the crease of worry.

“I’ll tell you if —”

“No,” she said. “No more games, no transactions or conditional surrenders. Tell me only if you want to.”

He leaned in again and crushed his lips to hers, hands tightening around her waist to pull her body flush to his. Without a thought she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, knees brushing clumsily against his.

“I don’t want to tell you,” he whispered against her mouth, his eyes soft and pleading. “But I want it to be real…”

When he kissed her again he did it with a bit more pressure until she laid back down. Feyd held his body atop hers suspended without breathing, letting her hips go to thread his fingers through her hair. She grew drunk on his attention, the way he held her, the desperate way he kissed her, on how she could almost taste his thoughts. Her hands started feeling hot and itchy and she soothed them by brushing them across his skin. His thighs were softer than they had any right to be, his hips were lean and smooth, and she didn’t get to feel his body and higher because he started making his way down her own. He sucked the sweat off of her neck and tasted the murmur of her moans, he licked across her clavicles and nibbled on her bones, he placed sweet kisses on her breasts until her nipples rose... He smiled when his lips found them already erect and he opened his eyes to look cockily up at her.

She watched him breathlessly as he lavished attention on her body so transparently proud just to see her react to what he was doing. There was an animal simplicity to it that felt like a betrayal of everything she knew but once she saw him like that she couldn’t look away. However seductive his plush lips looked suckling on her nipple, however strong his body, stretched across her own, muscled, pale and gleaming like the statues of old, he was more than anything else dear to her because he was just a little boy. Needy and eager to please, playing with her the way his thoughtless heart dictated. She brought a hand up to his head and gently scratched his scalp and his lips parted from her breast to sigh. Eyes still closed he licked across her nipple, rolling it until it was lathered in his spit. A snake of fire coiled in her stomach. It made her squirm.

Feyd moaned into her flesh and his hands came to her thighs. She tensed up, remembering so many rough handlings — from both him and her — but he touched her as gently as if she were made of glass. And as his kisses moved between her breasts, over her heart, trailing down toward her tummy, he parted her thighs so softly that it made her shiver. He took his time brushing his cold hands across her skin, going higher and higher slowly enough that she could stop him if she wanted to. When his fingers reached her core he turned his playful eyes up at her and smirked. He held her gaze as he licked her stomach with a silent promise and trailed a finger through her folds to part them. She allowed herself to blush as she looked down at him, forgetting herself completely for a moment, living only through the softness of his lips, the sleek movements of his tongue, and the proud look in his eyes. Her first instinct was to question him, to dig into his ego and find out what he planned, but she quieted that part of her and waited.

“You’re this wet for me?” he murmured, his lips right above her mound. She could feel his breath tickle her where she was most sensitive. He sounded playful and proud and there was an expectation in his voice that was inescapable. She had to answer.

“Yes…”

He buried his face between her thighs but not before she saw how wide his smile was. His hand tightened on her leg and then she felt something brush up against her ankle. A pale blue eye looked up at her, gauging her reaction with hungry anticipation, and she realised it was Feyd showing off how hard he was as he rubbed his cock against her. Her nails curled up against his scalp halfway between a caress and a scratch and he giggled. He was being so sweet with her that she could almost fall in love.

“Come up here,” she whispered, her head tilted lazily against her shoulders, her hair a messy halo on the bed.

“Not yet,” he rasped, peppering little kisses up and down her thigh. “I’m going to taste you first.”

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven

Content Warnings: Adult content, mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy. Taglist: @alohastitch0626, @jspidey5, @laceandsuch, @kneelforloki

The sun is gentle on your skin—not too hot, not too cold, but just right, like a soft embrace. The rhythm of the waves rolling off in the distance is soothing, and for the first time in weeks, you feel your body truly relax. It's a rare sensation, one that you try to soak in as much as possible.

You haven't been to the beach in ages, and this trip was a last-minute idea. After a week of battling fatigue and pain, you needed a change—the smell of the ocean air, the feel of sand between your toes, the expanse of open sky. It's the perfect escape from the never-ending demands of content creation and the relentless ping of incoming messages.

There aren't many people around, which is surprising given your proximity to the only ramp designed for wheelchairs and strollers. But the solitude is welcome, allowing you to enjoy the peace without feeling like you need to perform for an audience. It's just you, the vast ocean, and the occasional seagull passing by. As you sit there, letting the warmth of the sand seep into your bones, a thought crosses your mind.

A few days have passed since you returned from your brief hiatus, and though you haven't posted anything new on OnlyFans—your fans are being sustained by the scheduled content—you know they would welcome something a little more spontaneous, something that allows them to see a side of you that isn't always on display. And when do you feel this good, this free of pain? Why not capture the moment and show your subscribers that life isn't just about overcoming struggles, but also about embracing moments of joy?

You reach for your phone, tucked away in the safety of your beach bag, and unlock it with a swipe of your thumb. The camera app opens to a view of your sun-kissed skin, looking smoother than ever under the gentle glow of daylight. You're wearing a simple bikini, nothing too flashy or suggestive, just enough to accentuate the curves you've worked hard for.

The photos you take aren't overly posed or attention-seeking—they're snapshots of peace, of contentment found in solitude. You angle the phone just right, capturing the length of your legs stretched out before you, sand sticking to the sheen of sunscreen while the indigo waves kiss the shore behind. A second photo focuses on your torso, the bikini top hinting at the shape beneath without revealing too much. It's all about suggestion, not exhibition.

Satisfied with the images, you switch apps and tap open OnlyFans, the familiar icon signalling a space where you control the narrative, where you decide what to reveal and what to keep hidden. Your subscribers relish these glimpses into your everyday life, finding intrigue in the mundane made intimate. The beach setting is a departure from your bedroom backdrop, from the soft glow of your ring light that usually bathes your videos in flattering warmth.

Caption: Beach day 🌊☀️ Taking some time for myself and thought I’d share this little moment with you all. Hope you’re enjoying your day as much as I am! 💖

Your thumb hovers over the "post" button before pressing down, a flicker of excitement kindling in your chest as the photos upload. It's a departure from your carefully curated feed—a moment of unscripted joy that feels both intimate and invigorating. Your followers will love it.

With a satisfied sigh, you let the phone slip from your grasp, the screen's glow fading against the backdrop of sun-drenched sand. A sense of tranquillity settles over you, nurtured by the rhythmic pulse of the ocean nearby. It's a rare respite from the demands of stardom, a chance to simply be rather than perform.

Minutes turn into a languid hour. The phone vibrates softly against your calf, but you don't reach for it. Not yet. The world can wait. Right now, the sun's touch is more real than any notification.

Eventually, curiosity nudges at your relaxed mind, and you sit up, brushing sand from your legs. Picking up the phone, the screen illuminates with a flurry of notifications—your followers have been busy.

Scanning the comments, you see the usual mix. Compliments on your appearance, expressions of envy at your day on the beach, wishes that they could join you. A smile tugs at your lips, not just at their words, but at the sense of connection they bring. You crafted this community from nothing, and their loyalty is a balm to your soul.

One name catches your eye: Prongs. It's not surprising to see him here—he's always quick to interact with your posts—but there’s a small thrill each time you spot his username. His comments often carry an edge of flirtation that never fails to amuse you.

ProngsPlayground_free: Beach day, huh? 😏 You look amazing. Hope you’re soaking up some of that sun for us too. 💖

You can't help but smile at his comment. There's something about the way Prongs flirts that always makes you happy—it's fun but respectful, never crossing any lines. You've had plenty of subscribers who pushed boundaries, but he's always been different. There's a sense of fun in your interactions, and you look forward to his messages.

It's not just Prongs, though. You know Moony and Padfoot are there too, watching your content with just as much interest. You think about them now, imagining the three of them seeing this picture of you on the beach and how they might react. It's funny how they've become a little group in your mind, and you think of them as a team now.

Your fingers tap out a response, the playful banter coming as easily to you as breathing.

You: Thanks, Prongs! 😘 Wish you guys could be here too—bet you’d love the view. 😉

The message sent, you lower your phone onto your lap, a sense of contentment washing over you. You don't know these people in real life, but they've become a part of your world in their own special way. As you watch the waves roll in, you can almost imagine them on the other side of the screen, faces lighting up as they read your message, huddled together in shared camaraderie.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you lean back into the sand, letting the warmth seep into your body. The rhythmic lullaby of the ocean fills your ears, drowning out the distant chatter of beachgoers. This has always been your sanctuary, a place where you can shed the weight of expectations and simply exist.

But even here, you're not wholly free. Not when thoughts of them refuse to be quieted.

Their names have resonated within you from the moment they subscribed to your page. An inexplicable pull, growing stronger with each passing day, each shared message. You remember watching their own post, feeling something akin to fascination stir within you as you listened to their voices—rich, velvety layers of sound that brushed against your senses like physical touches, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

It's an anomaly, this interest you've developed. You've always prided yourself on being professional, maintaining clear boundaries between the men who subscribe to your content and your own personal life. But with Prongs, Moony, and Padfoot, those lines are blurred. There's something about them, something different that beckons you closer even as you remind yourself of the need for distance.

You glance down once more at your phone, the screen lighting up with a new notification. A direct message waits for you, its contents unknown. You tap on the icon, a small smile tugging at your lips in anticipation.

ProngsPlayground_free: That view, though... 🔥 We're all distracted now. We should be editing, but I think we need a break after seeing that. Even Moony is a bit distracted, and he's usually the sensible one. 😏 - Padfoot

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you read the message, shaking your head slightly. The thought of them being thrown off their game because of you sends a small thrill through you.

Your fingers fly across the screen, crafting a response that matches the playful banter you've come to enjoy with them. It's flirty yet casual, the perfect blend of familiarity and charm that has become your signature move.

You: Taking a break, huh? I can't blame you—it's tough to focus with a beach in the picture. 😉 But don't get into too much trouble. 😘

The message sends, and you put your phone back down, letting out a content sigh as you watch the waves crash on the shore. The sun is beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over everything, and the breeze that brushes against your skin is just the right balance of cool and comforting. It's one of those moments that make you wish you could stop time, a peaceful respite from the usual whirlwind of your life.

But even as you try to absorb the tranquility around you, your thoughts keep circling back to the boys—to their messages and how they've woven themselves into the fabric of your everyday existence. You've always been cautious about what you share online, maintaining a certain distance between yourself and your followers. But with Prongs, Moony, and Padfoot, it feels like that line is blurring, like you're allowing them to see more of you, piece by piece.

It's not just about the content anymore. It's about the connection—the ease with which you converse, the way they understand the in-between spaces of your words, the sense of camaraderie that transcends the digital divide. They've become more than just fans; they're friends, in a way that both excites and terrifies you.

And while you can't quite put your finger on when exactly it happened, you realise that you've started to look forward to their responses, find yourself thinking about them even when you're offline. It's a strange feeling, unsettling yet exhilarating all at once. But for now, you push away the questions, focus instead on the fun chats and light-hearted flirtation.

You snap one last picture of the beach—this time without you in it—and tuck your phone back into your bag. A sense of calm washes over you as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and purple. For now, everything is as it should be.

And tomorrow, when you return to the daily grind, they'll be there, ready to pick up the conversation where you left off.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Autumn (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @thisgameissonintendo

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Pure fluff. Friends to more-than-friends. Morpheus has made you a dream based on one of your favourite things and you explore it together.

Warnings: Physical intimacy, kissing.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Happy First Day of Autumn Sandfam! Hope you enjoy this one, would love to hear what you think, and also to know which season is your favourite and why. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

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

"Can I open my eyes yet?" You stifle a giggle with the back of your hand, feeling very much like a person awaiting a surprise on their birthday.

"So impatient," Morpheus replies with a teasing lilt to his liquid velvet voice that sets your laughter free.

"Is that a yes?"

"I am simply adding some final touches."

Ever the perfectionist, you think with a grin.

You inhale deeply, making use of one of the only other senses you could use in this situation. The air is crisp, fresh, with an earthy undertone; you are definitely outside, but where, you have no other clues to help guess.

Morpheus had certainly not given anything away when he had found you sketching in the Dreaming's orchard, charcoal in one hand, half-eaten apple in the other. He had simply told you there was something he wanted to show you.

Curiosity mounting, you had eagerly taken your friend's outstretched hand and promised to not look until he gave the word.

Finally, there is movement in the air beside you. Morpheus' fingers ghost your upper arm to signify his proximity.

"You may open your eyes now," he speaks quietly yet authoritatively by your ear.

You look, blinking to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the swaying branches of numerous trees, before taking the view in properly.

You notice the colours first, their vivacity and variety:

Umber, sienna, scarlet, amber, saffron. All under a pale blue, wispy cloud sky.

Leaves are falling thick and fast. They swirl and undulate in the soft breeze, coming to rest on an already leaf-smothered ground.

Little collections of chestnut coloured mushrooms are dotted next to the tree line. Droplets of dew have gathered on their caps, lending a gorgeous sheen to their already lovely appearance.

Everything you saw was a showcase of autumn.

"You remembered," you say breathlessly, referring to a conversation that had taken place a few weeks ago where you had professed your love for the season and all it entailed.

You look to Morpheus with a sunbeam smile, asking for permission to explore. He nods, extending his arm, communicating that it was all yours.

Your steps into the leafy clearing are gleeful and bouncy, creating satisfying rustling and crunching noises as you go towards the well-established trees. Melodic birdsong echoes from the canopy above you. Swathes of moss begin where the layers of leaves end. You carefully hop onto it and enjoy the way your shoes sink a little into the plush, verdant carpet.

Fingertips trail over the greyish, dappled trunk of a sycamore tree before you move to the tactile, deeply ridged bark of an ash.

You slip your arms around the second tree, close your eyes and give it a big hug.

Everything feels right in this moment.

You open your eyes to see Morpheus watching you from several paces away. There is a twinkle in his deep blue eyes; clearly he finds your display amusing.

The rich autumn colours contrast beautifully against his monochrome attire. None of the falling leaves come close to his person, reminding you that even now, even when he looks to be still, there are a multitude of responsibilities ticking away inside his mind, including the control of the objects within this tranquil dreamscape.

A dreamscape that he wanted to share with you.

It is times like these that you are confronted by the truth of just how special your friendship with Morpheus is. There are fleeting moments where you wish it could be more but for now you are simply an Endless and a mortal who find solace in each other's company.

Pushing yourself away from the tree, you come back into the clearing and find a spot among the leaves to sit. Morpheus joins you after you pat the ground and call his name.

No words are exchanged for a while. You simply pick through the surrounding leaves to find the most vibrant example. A scarlet one, fallen from an aspen is what you settle on. You tuck it in your coat pocket and meet Morpheus' wistful gaze.

"Thank you, I really needed this."

He nods formally. "When you said that you found yourself missing the autumn splendours of the Waking World, I decided to make a version for you to visit at your leisure."

You are taken aback. "You made all this for me?"

"Yes," his tone starts off measured as ever but gives way to something you have never heard before. "Does it have your approval?"

The sudden insecurity is impossibly endearing. You reach sideways to touch the back of his hand.

"Approval? Morpheus, it's - well, somewhere I could only dream of."

He bows his head. "It pleases me to hear that."

"I hope it didn't take up too much of your time to make it all, I know how stretched you can get."

"I cannot deny, it has occupied me a little more than the construction of other recent dreams, however, I believe it necessary to put time and effort into making gifts for those whose pleasure and happiness you find important. You deserve to feel those things, Y/N, and being able to contribute to them in some way brings me pleasure of my own."

You don't know if it the fiery colours around you heightening your reactions but hearing Morpheus talk about pleasure is doing something to you.

It is fuel to the embers that had been smouldering within your body for a couple of months now.

It makes you feel delirious. You find your attention languidly drifting between his eyes and his lips.

Blue to pink, pink to blue.

Then he mirrors your action and it all becomes too much.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you admit, the words rushing out without proper consideration.

"Very well," he answers instantly, not allowing you even a fraction of a second to regret your sudden divulgence.

Doubling down on this approach, he turns his body to face yours and gently cups your face in his long-fingered hands.

He's staring at you so intently, his thumbs run back and forth over your cheekbones, the unwavering attention and sensation causing you to shiver and sigh.

He moves closer and his pupils blow out from anticipation.

Morpheus' perfect lips are now mere centimetres from yours. Fluttery nerves fill your insides. You are so overwhelmed that this is actually happening.

You close the gap, testing the waters with a kiss that is soft and tentative. Morpheus is instantly hooked, initiating a second one that allows you to discover just how skilled he is.

Your hands move up to tangle in Morpheus' unruly hair. At present, you cannot remember how long have you been longing to do this but you are not disappointed by how silken it feels under your palms.

The kiss between you becomes intense, his tongue joining the dance with a bone melting deftness, and soon you want to feel more of his body against yours.

You go to lay back on the bed of leaves.

He pulls away, concern etched in his brows, forehead and eyes that questions if he has gone too quickly.

You smile softly to assure him that all is well.

"Come here." You draw him backwards with you, allowing him to straddle you. During the manoeuvre, his coat falls open enough for you to see the galaxies swirling within the lining.

He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you once more, starting at your lips and moving to your neck when he senses that you need to breathe.

The touches of his mouth, the feeling of his body covering yours protectively, the weight of his hips aligned with your own; it has you moaning appreciatively.

He withdraws but remains close, astute eyes drinking in every detail and emotion on your smiling face, the halo-like glow shimmering on your hair.

"So beautiful," Morpheus murmurs reverently.

"Your dreams always are," you say, looking past him at the translucent clouds hovering in the sky above you.

His deep voice rumbles deliciously as he speaks his reply, a false admonishment, "You know that's not what I meant."

He playfully nudges his nose against yours. "This dream pales in comparison to you."

You blush as brightly as the leaf that you had stashed within your pocket. Morpheus traces his fingers over the blossoming redness, marvelling in how the extra heat feels under his touch and how his words were the ones that put it there.

"Kiss me, please," you ask in a whisper.

He arranges his coat to cocoon you against the seasonal chill and then obliges you with a deep and passionate kiss that spreads internal warmth right out to the tips of your fingers and toes.

If your winter continues like this, with Morpheus to hold and bond with, it is shaping up to be infinitely more delightful and cosy than any that have come before.

[pharmaciacatholica]

Someone once told me that suicide isnt like a "you're going to hell rn" situation because its often done under extreme stress/altered mental states and people aren't always in full control of themselves. I am sure the "instant hell" sentiment is probably a protestant thing but do you happen to know more on this?

I actually have a post in my drafts about this but is a subject that I do not love to speak on because it is inherently sensitive and it can often be difficult to express hardline truths without coming off as callous.

The cool part about being Catholic is that I often do not need to wade into the waters on my own. For the most part, I am able to point to the words or a far more learned and pious man than myself. In this case, I have the written words of Pope Saint John Paul II:

Suicide is always as morally objectionable as murder. The Church's tradition has always rejected it as a gravely evil choice.(x)(x) Even though a certain psychological, cultural and social conditioning may induce a person to carry out an action which so radically contradicts the innate inclination to life, thus lessening or removing subjective responsibility, suicide, when viewed objectively, is a gravely immoral act. In fact, it involves the rejection of love of self and the renunciation of the obligation of justice and charity towards one's neighbour, towards the communities to which one belongs, and towards society as a whole.(x)(x) In its deepest reality, suicide represents a rejection of God's absolute sovereignty over life and death, as proclaimed in the prayer of the ancient sage of Israel: "You have power over life and death; you lead men down to the gates of Hades and back again" (Wis 16:13; cf. Tob 13:2).

Evangelium Vitae (paragraph 66)

So you are partially correct and partially incorrect in your assessment. For some people, and I’ve seen this before, to go around telling those who have had a loved one commit suicide that they are burning in hell is completely insane and unjustifiable. It is also extremely dangerous to play off suicide as something that isn’t a grave sin or that every time it happens the person isn’t culpable for their actions. Suicide is one of the sins that landed Judas in hell, because he chose despair over repentance and mercy. I also think G.K. Chesterton spoke very poetically on the subject here:

Not only is suicide a sin, it is the sin. It is the ultimate and absolute evil, the refusal to take an interest in existence; the refusal to take the oath of loyalty to life. The man who kills a man, kills a man. The man who kills himself, kills all men; as far as he is concerned he wipes out the world. His act is worse than any rape or dynamite outrage. For it destroys all buildings: it insults all women. The thief is satisfied with diamonds; but the suicide is not: that is his crime. He cannot be bribed, even by the blazing stones of the Celestial City. The thief compliments the things he steals, if not the owner of them. But the suicide insults everything on earth by not stealing it. He defiles every flower by refusing to live for its sake. There is not a tiny creature in the cosmos at whom his death is not a sneer. When a man hangs himself on a tree, the leaves might fall off in anger and the birds fly away in fury: for each has received a personal affront. Of course there may be pathetic emotional excuses for the act. There often are for rape, and there almost always are for dynamite. But if it comes to clear ideas and the intelligent meaning of things, then there is much more rational and philosophic truth in the burial at the cross-roads and the stake driven through the body, than in Mr. Archer's suicidal automatic machines. There is a meaning in burying the suicide apart. The man's crime is different from other crimes - for it makes even crimes impossible.

Orthodoxy

This is just the writing of an overrated layman poet, but it really drives home the point.

[inlovewithpandora]

- New Beginnings || Father’s Day Special -

Pairing: Agedup!Lo’ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Mate!Reader

Synopsis: You find out your pregnant just in time to suprise your mate for Father’s Day

Content: Fluff, mated pair, nausea/vomit, Dad!Lo’ak, Lo’ak being a little confused, him worrying about his parenting skills (reader reassures him), reader surprising him, just a really cute fic

Author’s Note: I decided to do a FD themed Lo’ak fic because I don’t see enough Dad!Lo’ak or Lo’ak x pregnant reader and I just thought it would be cute!

- I will be writing more Dad!Lo’ak/Lo’ak x pregnant!reader in the future so feel free to send in any requests!

- Please excuse any mistakes!

Word Count: 1.4k

Glossary: Sempu - Daddy || Yawne - Beloved || Tìyawn - Love

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules prior to requesting!

Links: Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist

You were currently helping Mo'at in the healing pod when you began to feel ill. Your stomach was beginning to feel agitated, it was like someone was physically shaking you.

As you continued to do the list of tasks Mo'at assigned you to complete you tried your best to shake the feeling of nausea away, hoping it would soon pass. As you tried to stand up from your current position on the floor, you began to feel slightly lightheaded and your legs felt as if they were going to give out on you any second, "my child are you okay?" Mo'at rushed over to your side and help you sit back down on the mat.

"Yes, I'm fi-" your sentence was cut off by the feeling of this morning's breakfast attempting to make a reappearance.

You quickly grab the closest bowl in your reach and begin to expel the content of your insides. Mo'at gently pulls your hair up so it doesn’t get in the way and once you’re finished Mo'at immediately took the bowl to discard it.

As you grab a cloth and begin to clean your mouth you heat up with embarrassment, feeling it spread from your chest up to your cheeks, knowing that you just vomited in front of your Tsahìk and even worse your mate's grandmother.

When Mo'at walked back inside she could see the tears welling up in your eyes, "no need to cry my child, everything is fine. Nothing to be ashamed about..." she speaks in her usual light and sweet tone, reassuring you that it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

With her being the Tsahìk for many years she has seen any and everything so a little accident like this didn't phase her one bit.

"Let's just get you to lay down so we can see what's wrong okay?" you nod your head in agreement and began to lie down on the mat below you. Once your flat on your back Mo'at began to examine you.

She began to touch and take in a full look at your appearance. She could see the tired look in your eye and the slight swollenness of your breasts. She then began to lightly touch your stomach, "How long have you been feeling sick like this?"

"A few weeks now..." Mo'at just nodded her head in response and reach over to her basket full of medical instruments and grabbed a wooden Pinard horn. She placed it gently on your lower stomach and pressed her ear against the other end.

Once she was satisfied with her findings she placed the instrument back in its proper place. As you looked at her you were trying to read her facial expressions to see if the news would be good or bad but her face was restful, not a slither of emotion in sight.

"What is it? Is everything okay?" you questioned in a soft voice hoping the news wouldn't be bad.

"Yes everything is great, you are with child" As she speaks her lips curl into a smile, happy that she will be welcoming another great-grandchild into the world.

As her words rang through your ears, your eyes immediately begin to water. You were so happy to hear the news that you were pregnant. You and Lo'ak have been trying for a while so to know that you were now carrying a child, his child, in your stomach made you feel overwhelmed with joy.

"H-How far am I?"

"Almost two months, you aren't showing yet but in due time you will"

You gently place your hands on your stomach, rubbing it softly with a smile on your face knowing that Eywa has finally blessed you with the gift of conceiving. Knowing that your stomach would eventually swell with the growth of your baby made you feel warm inside, it was as if your motherly love was growing stronger by the second.

—

As you were walking home, still feeling the happiness of finding out about your pregnancy you could hear someone calling your name, "Hey y/n!"

you turn around and see Tuk running up to you with a newly crafted armband, “That looks great Tuk, your getting so good at weaving”

“Thank you, I made this for my Sempu for Father’s Day”

You almost forgot that Father’s Day was coming up for Jake since you were Omatikaya and the clan didn’t celebrate those type of holidays like on Earth.

“When is Father’s Day Tuk?”

“Tomorrow”

Since Father’s Day was tomorrow you came up with a perfect plan to surprise Lo’ak with the news of him being a father.

After talking to Tuk you began making your way to the biolab so you could talk to Spider.

Once you made it inside you saw Spider talking to one of the scientists, “Hey Spider”

“Hey y/n, what’s up?”

“I need you to help me with something…”

—

After explaining your idea to Spider he instantly agreed, excited to help you in any way possible.

You brought him back to your marui and both of you began to work on the surprise, after a few hours you finally completed it.

“How do you think it looks? Do you think he’ll like it?” You asked Spider as you showed him the final product

“Amazing, when he sees it he’s going to love it”

—

It’s now the next day, Father’s Day and you were so excited to surprise Lo’ak. As both of you started your morning as normal, talking, eating breakfast, and getting ready for the day you were waiting for the right time to tell him the news.

“I’m leaving to go give my Dad his gift for Father’s Day” Lo’ak told you as he walked next to you and kissed you softly on the cheek.

“Okay well before you go I have something to show you”

As Lo’ak watched you walk to the other side of the room he began to wonder what you wanted to show him. After a few minutes, you walked back in front of him and held up a woven blanket.

At first, he looked at the amazing patterns it held, he could tell your skills came to life as you weaved. As he continued looking at your work his eyes went to the middle and he began to see words but they weren’t written in Na’vi, they were written in English which took him by surprise since you couldn’t write in English but thanks to Spider helping you yesterday you were able to get it done.

“H-a-p-p-y F-a-t-h-e-r-s D-a-y” he slowly spoke the words under his breath and his brows furrowed, “why does this say Happy Father’s Day? Is it a gift for my Dad?”

You begin to chuckle at the sound of confusion in his tone, “No yawne it's for you”

You saying that only made his face contort with an even more confused expression than before, “Me? How is it for me?”

“Think about it Lo’ak, think about it really hard”

Lo’ak began to ponder on your words, hearing you put such emphasis in your voice made him think as hard as he could. Once he thought about it for a while and truly processed your words his golden eyes lit up instantly, “Wait…You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I’m almost two months”

Lo’ak just stands there awestruck for a moment, he couldn’t believe his mate, the love of his life was now carrying his bundle of joy.

Lo’ak walks up to you and immediately pulls you into his embrace, squeezing you so tight that you would almost burst. Once he let you go he began to plant kisses all over your face, “I-I can’t believe it, we finally have a baby together”

“I know I’m so happy, we finally have our own little family. we’ve created a life, a new member of the clan”

As Lo’ak began to think of having a child he was happy of course but he also had a small voice telling him things, things that always made him doubt his future parenting abilities, “y/n, do you think I'll be a good dad?”

You knew he always had doubts in the back of his head, telling him he wouldn’t be a good father because he had a strained relationship with Jake.

“Yawne..” you grab his hand and place it gently on your stomach, “you will be the best father to our child, they will feel so loved by you. You will have the best relationship with them” you smile at him, reassuring him that no matter what he will be an amazing father.

“Thank you tìyawn” he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you could tell by your reassuring him it gave him a new wave of confidence.

You pull back from him and begin to gently caress his cheek and look up at him with eyes that shined with love, “Happy Father’s Day Lo’ak”

I hope you enjoyed🩵!

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[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: Christmas crackers - favourite tradition - celebration - exhausted

Let’s head over to 221B Baker Street and see if Sherlock’s able to be civil and enjoy a social happening. I’ll let you in on a secret; there will be obstacles to tackle.

December 18

After last year’s disaster of a Christmas party, Sherlock has reluctantly agreed to give it another try. 

“It’s all different this year, Sherlock,” John assures him. “I have no girlfriend, but a boyfriend, and Molly’s gotten over you, so there’ll be no awkward moments whatsoever.”

Sherlock looks sceptically at him. 

“Have you ever heard of a Christmas party without awkward moments, John?” he inquires. 

John just chuckles and points to the ceiling. Sherlock knows perfectly well that they’re standing under one of the twenty mistletoes, so he gives in and catches John’s lower lip and sucks languidly at it as if it were a candy stick. John wraps his arms around Sherlock’s waist and kisses back eagerly. Mrs. Hudson’s usual yoo-hoo interrupts them and Sherlock huffs unapprovingly. John swats his arse and walks over to their landlady to relieve her of her tray filled with finger food.

“You’re a star, Mrs. Hudson,” John declares and pecks her cheek. 

She smiles pleased and turns her cheek up to Sherlock for another kiss. He bows gallantly and does as she expects. 

A few minutes later almost all the guests have arrived, and Sherlock is about to open the bottles of Crémant, when he freezes. An unwanted and certainly uninvited guest arrives with his normal superciliousness. 

“What is he doing here?” he hisses to John who’s fetched the champagne flutes. 

“I don’t know. This wasn’t my doing, love,” John says when Sherlock gives him one of his looks. 

Sherlock sighs and kisses John’s temple then opens the bottles with a bit more force than necessary, making corks fly and Mrs. Hudson and Molly to squeal. 

***

“Why are you here?” Sherlock asks his brother through gritted teeth when the others are occupied with the Christmas crackers. 

“Am I not allowed to visit my brother…” Mycroft begins before Sherlock cuts him off. 

“Visiting and ruining our party, you mean? No, Mycroft!”

“Long time no see, Mycroft,” a voice says behind Sherlock’s back. 

It turns out to be Greg all smiles and polite manners, with a hand outstretched to greet Mycroft. 

“Gregory,” Mycroft smiles and shakes the DI’s hand warmly. 

“You’re late,” Sherlock huffs at Greg and walks to stand by the window. 

How had it escaped him that Mycroft and Greg were this familiar with each other? Mycroft rarely used John’s first name for God’s sake!

A warm hand is placed on the small of Sherlock’s back and some of the tension in his body dissipates. 

“Why don’t you play for us for a bit. Get some of that brotherly love off your shoulders,” John murmurs against Sherlock’s ear. 

Sherlock hums amiably and breathes in the familiar scent of John. 

“Keep your eyes on George and my brother. They’re clearly up to no good,” Sherlock whispers and gives John a lop-sided grin. 

John laughs and gives Sherlock’s arm a squeeze and walks over to the two women on the sofa, who make room for him to sit and enjoy what will become John’s favourite tradition: Sherlock playing seasonal music and every pair of eyes fixed on him has a benevolent expression.  

***

“On a scale from 1 to 10, how exhausted are you after our celebration?” John wants to know after he’s got his breath back. 

Sherlock lies boneless and utterly satisfied on his stomach, having John’s come trickling out of his arse. 

“Do you mean the party or the fact that you’ve fucked all my brain cells to the next galaxy?” Sherlock mutters into his pillow. 

John’s low chuckle makes Sherlock’s heart skip a beat. He turns onto his back and gazes up at John with slightly unfocused eyes. 

Has John ever been more beautiful than in this minute? He looks like a Roman warrior who’s won the greatest battle. 

“Come here,” Sherlock drawls and reaches out to John who comes willingly. 

“Your answer,” John prompts. 

Sherlock yawns and curls up in John’s arms, not caring a fig about what question he’s supposed to know the answer to. 

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @sabsi221b @gregorovitchworld @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @raina-at @helloliriels

[papalestine]

In Gaza alone, you live death every day, every hour, every moment. You stand helpless in the face of any evil that you think is simple. You stand helpless in the face of the lack of water, food, and medicine. You stand helpless in the face of the smallest request from a small child, that you provide him with the least of the necessities of life. In the face of all these challenges, difficulties, and great helplessness, you cannot do anything but wait for death to come at any moment. In the modern era, there are children, women, men, and the elderly whose greatest wish is to drink clean water and get a meal to satisfy their hunger.

@90-ghost @fundraise-blog @ibtisam @sar-soor @el-shab-hussein

[stabbyfoxandrew]

happy wipwednesday my beloved! i glad to see that you survived yesterday's fight with our angel and came out winning!

i am here to humbly request to know what your other problem child is up after he fucked up his not-date. Can't wait for you to break my heart again but until then:

kith <3

WIP Wednesday (4/3) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 126)

The only way Neil can fix this is by explaining himself. And explaining means telling the truth. A lot of it. Pretty much all of it, he thinks. 

How can he possibly do that? 

Neil’s never told anyone the truth. Well, besides the FBI. And that doesn’t really count because he had no choice. That night it was either tell the truth or go to prison for being related to Nathan Wesninski. He chose wisely, of course. But it was no picnic for him. Neil recalls those horrible hours he spent recounting his absolutely abysmal childhood to a government issue thug wearing scuffed loafers and a bored expression.

They didn’t believe him at first. Not totally. They made him rehash everything over and over until his throat was raw from talking so much and they were finally, finally satisfied with his life story. Then they shoved him into witness protection, where he was forced to spend almost a year living in North Dakota under the name Peter Duncan.

God, Neil loathes that state. And he loathed Peter. And that stupid, dinky little apartment with the awful neighbors and shoddy TV service. Sure it was stable. Normal, even. But, as insane as it would seem to anyone else, he prefers being on the road again. Running is something he’s used to. Something that makes sense even though his demons are long buried.

He likes traveling without a destination. He likes free Wi-Fi and complimentary breakfasts and room service and nice people telling him to ‘come again’. He likes his stupid little car and it’s stupid broken radio that’s thankfully stuck on a sports channel.

Hell, he even likes Neil. He likes the man he’s become since crawling out from under his mother’s corpse and his father’s ax. Because despite everything— all the names he’s used and cities he’s seen and things he’s had to do to survive— he’s turned out to be a mostly decent person. Except for the whole… ‘burning down buildings’ thing. But he’s working on it. Sort of. And on the bright side, he hasn’t killed anyone in years. Those were all self defense, of course. So… Do they really count?

Wait a minute, Neil blinks. What was his point? 

Oh. Right. The truth. 

Other than those suited pricks at the bureau, it’s a completely foreign concept to him. Neil runs his fingers through his hair a few dozen times, the curls tangling around his fingers as he does. He rips his fingers through and wonders if he should shave his head again. No. No, it’s about to be winter and he hates when his ears are cold.

And with his hair longer, he looks less like his father.

To prove that, Neil looks into the bathroom mirror and finds Neil Josten there. Not Nathan or Nathaniel. Not even Peter. (Of course not, Peter had black hair.) Neil gives his disassembled phone a glance and wonders if Andrew would’ve wanted to be friends with Peter. Or any of his other aliases with friendly dispositions. 

It wouldn't matter. None of them would ever have even tried. That's one thing that sets him apart from all his past selves. He's trying. Neil lets out a breath. He’ll put his phone back together and tell Andrew… Something.

In a day or two. 

When he figures out what that something is.