#i haven't written in so long and i had to get these feelings out or i'd never do it

[melercies]

pairing(s): nam-gyu x reader x thanos drabble

warning(s): smut [minors dni], (fem anatomy, but gender-neutral pronouns), reader is a virgin, fingering (reader receiving), oral (thanos receiving), exhibitionism(?), voyeurism, degradation, praise kink if you squint, usage of various petnames with some mean nicknames and (my best interpretation of the two characters). Read at your own risk, porn no plot. intended use of lowercase. It's consensual, I swear.

author's note: I haven't written in so long, since I had deactivated my old tumblr blog just to start anew so hopefully, I can get back to writing. Writing this because these two silly goobers have me in a chokehold. <3 Please let me know if I missed anything, I swear. I listened to numerous of clips for both of them to try get their character the way I interpret it. Likes, Reblogs and Comments are highly appreciated!

somehow, you found yourself in a compromising position. if you could even call it compromising in the first place, the setting wasn't ideal to say the least. all three of you were in the men's bathroom, crammed in a small stall where anyone could come in at any given moment.

you shifted a bit in nam-gyu's lap, your body squirming as he held you within his iron grip. you swore you could feel the hard, unyielding length of his cock beneath you, the heat of his body into your skin.

"fuck, you feel good," nam-gyu growled, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "such a little fucking tease, getting us all worked up like this."

his hands roamed over your body greedily, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could as he pressed a couple of rough kisses towards your neck. it surprised you how he didn't practically unzip or rip the jacket off of you by now. soon, you felt another pair of hands joining nam-gyu's. ah, right. thanos, you nearly forgotten about him if it weren't for the man behind you being so touchy at the moment.

the two now working in tandem to strip the clothes off of you, making sure to leave you bare and exposed to their hungry gazes. thanos leaned down, his mouth findings yours in a sudden bruising, demanding kiss. he swallowed any noises that spilled from your throat, groping anywhere he could place his hands on.

soon, thano's hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers finding your nipples, pinching and tugging til you writhed desperately in nam-gyu's lap. hearing nam-gyu chuckle behind you, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he continued his assault on your sensitive skin with his lips. "you like that, don't you, you little slut?" he taunted. "getting felt up by two guys at once, getting used like the fucktoy you are..."

he punctuated his words with a sharp nip to your earlobe, nearly causing you to try pull away with a yelp, but you practically had nowhere else to go, considering you were trapped between the two of them as they were. nam-gyu's hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he ground your bottom against the strained cock still in his pants.

"that's it, sweetheart," thanos purred, his voice a low, wicked murmur against your lips.

you would've been embarrassed at this point if it wasn't til you let out a cry, nam-gyu had wasted no time as he slipped one of his hands into the waistband of your pants, plunging two fingers deep into your tight, virgin cunt without preamble. he could feel your walls clenching around the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. but nam-gyu didn't bother giving you the time to adapt - he set a brutal pace, pumping his fingers deliciously in and out of you hard and fast, the metal rings on his fingers adding a deliciously rough edge to each thrust.

"fuck, you're so fucking tight," nam-gyu growled, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your face contort in a mix of surprise and reluctant pleasure. "never been fucked before, have you, you little slut? well, we're going to fix that."

at the same time, thanos grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head forward, forcing you to face and take his thick, hard cock into your mouth. somehow, you didn't even notice when he had pulled his pants down in the first place. perhaps, you were too focused upon the fact that nam-gyu was literally turning your brain into mush gradually with those fingers of his. besides, thanos didn't even give a chance for you to prepare yourself, and just shoved himself in deep, feeling your throat constrict around him as he hit the back of it.

thanos groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest as he started to fuck your face, his hips rocking forward and back as he forced you to take him deeper and deeper. he could feel you struggling to take his cock, hearing muffled cries and whimpers around his cock, but he didn't let up. if anything, it only spurred him on more.

"that's it, take it you little cockslut," thanos snarled, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "take my fucking cock like the whore you are. show me how much you loving choking on a real man's dick."

you could hear nam-gyu laughing as he watched thanos use your mouth, continuously pumping mercilessly in your clenching cunt at the same time. he could feel you getting wetter, the juices starting to coat his fingers as your body betrayed your reluctant arousal.

"look at them, man," nam-gyu said, his voice a low, mocking drawl. "getting so riled up from being used like a set of holes. they were made for this, man. made to be a fucktoy for guys like us." you could only whine at his words, causing thanos to feel the sensations and suddenly cum into your mouth. instinctively, you swallowed.

thano's eyes darkened with lust as he watched you swallow his load, your throat working to gulp down every last drop of his hot, thick seed. the sight of you writhing in nam-gyu's lap, impaled on his fingers as he curled them just right to hit that sensitive spot inside of you, only served to stoke the fire burning in thano's gut.

"fuck, that's so hot," thanos growled, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. "swallowing like the good little cumslut you are. i knew you were made for this." he reached down, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to look at him. his eyes bored into yours, dark and intense, drinking in the debauched sight of you - cheeks flushed, lips swollen and slick with his saliva and your own drool, hair mussed from his rough handling. he could see the reluctant need in your eyes, the way they glinted with a hunger that you couldn't quite hide.

"but we're not done with you yet, sweetheart," thanos said, his voice a low, wicked murmur. "not by a long shot. nam-gyu's not the only one who wants a turn with this tight little cunt of yours." nam-gyu smirked, his fingers still pumping lazily in and out as he listened to thanos. "you're right. i want to see you split this slut in half on your fat cock. want to see you ruin them for anyone else, make it so they can't even think about fucking another guy without imagining it's you inside her."

...and just when you were about to cum, nam-gyu pulled his fingers out of you, holding them up to your lips. "clean them off," he ordered, his voice was low and demanding. "taste how fucking wet you are for us, you little slut."

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Are these my hands, still? (scrubbed clean as they are?)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.6k

genre: hurt/comfort, angsty but happy ending always always always

warnings: we're back with the blood on hands analogy, this is vaguely and metaphorically about consent, love and redemption and finding yourself blah blah blah

a/n: me ?? posting a fic ?? new year miracle fr. I haven't written in,,, a long time. I'm getting back into it but guys I am kinda rlly fuckin unwell and couldn't rlly proofread so I HOPE you all enjoy it at least a bit <33

"Do you ever… miss it?" It's not often that your voice is quiet, but tonight Damian has to shut off the water in the bathroom sink and turn to you, cocking his head to the side as if to hear you better.

"Miss what, my love?" he asks gently, leaning his hip against the smooth, granite counter and watching as you stand at your own sink, scrubbing rather aggressively at the dried blood on your hands. It has been a messy patrol, to say the least, and the two of you are sort of thrumming from the adrenaline of it as you stand in the dull light of your bathroom.

"Just… well, I don't know," you mumble, and it's enough to make something that feels upsettingly close to worry begin to eat at Damian's heart. He's not used to you stumbling - not used to you sifting through words and searching so desperately. And he knows, with a fearful sort of vulnerability, that you're not used to it, either.

So he can't really stop himself from chasing after you, can't find it within himself to leave you drowning. Damian moves toward you slowly as you stare down at your hands and scrub, and you find it difficult to stop even when he covers your frantic movements with one large palm while he reaches his other hand to turn off the water. It had been hot, he realizes rather abruptly, and your skin is too warm to the touch, steam still rising from the white sink basin.

"My love," he says slowly, leaning down a bit with slouched shoulders so that he can crane his head enough to look at your downturned face. "Please talk to me. Please."

You pull your hands out from under his instead of speaking, and he turns his palm to face upward so that you can place your hands there, dried blood ground into the grooves and prints of your skin.

"How long has it been?" you ask dully. "Since our hands looked like this?" Our, you think, a sickening sort of nausea twisting within you. But his are clean these days, always always always.

"It… doesn't happen often," Damian says slowly, a frown tugging at his lips as he feels himself chasing after you - feels himself trying desperately to catch up with whatever's dragging you under right now. "But there's… never a last time for things like these. It's not up to us to know when we'll have to get our hands dirty again."

When you look up at him, then, your eyes are big and shining and open, staring with something that looks a bit less like love and a bit more like longing. It makes Damian's stomach twist, just a bit, and he reaches one arm to wrap around your waist and pull you into him while his other hand abandons yours to tangle into your hair and guide your face to his chest.

There's no space for longing here, he thinks. There is only love. There is only love here and it belongs to you. He hopes, a bit desperately, that the sound of his heart thumping in his chest is enough to say that - to remind you of that. When you press your face closer to him and tangle your bloodied hands into his shirt, he can't help the touch of relief that courses through him.

"I need you to tell me what's going on, beloved," he says softly, and in any other situation you might've laughed at him - might've poked fun at the fact that Damian Wayne is practically begging at your feet like a dog desperate for a bone. 

You just sigh at his words tonight, though, tipping back and away from him as you untangle his arms from around you. He lets you, notably, his hands ever gentle and pliable under your touch. But when you spin back to the sink, turning the hot water back on with a steaming hiss, he lets one large palm cover yours again. 

"Let me do it for you, please?" And there's something about the way he asks it, something about the love in his begging that makes you crumble and nod. 

"You don't have to ask, you know," you say quietly as he takes your hands gently into his own over the sink and begins to scrub ever so gently at your skin. "You don't need my permission."

"You don't belong to me," Damian points out softly, but a frown tugs at his lips once more because he thought you knew that. 

"No, I - I know that. I just mean…" You trail off, though, as you stare at your hands engulfed in his, the gentle motions of his fingers wiping the red from your hands over and over and over again. "I belong to myself, I know," you continue, ignoring the thick unfamiliarity of the sentiment. "But we… we've given ourselves to each other, right? You don't have to ask."

"It's not a formality," Damian muses in the quiet bathroom, the pale light reflecting down onto the two of you. "It's a promise. It's… a reminder, my love."

"Of what?"

"Of what you just said," he reminds you patiently, his eyes flickering up to you as you keep your own gaze locked on your intertwined hands. "You belong to yourself now. These hands are yours now, completely. You get to choose what to do with them. You get to choose what's done with them."

"Ah," you say flatly, Damian's words jarring in a familiar sort of way. None of it's new, but sometimes it slips away from you just a bit too much on nights like this.

Your hands, you realize sort of distantly, are clean again, and Damian's taken a towel to dry them with a gentleness that the two of you seem incapable of most days. He moves with a softness that feels learned rather than inherited and it makes something that feels dangerously like hope flutter through your chest.

You don't speak through the rest of it, content to stare down at your clean palms as he smoothes his fingers over your skin and throws the wet, used towel onto the counter. As your eyes flicker to track the movement, watching as it splats onto the solid granite with a dull, muffled flop, you find your gaze searching for the red that you're sure should be there. You find yourself looking for the blood that must've been scrubbed from your hands - that must've seeped into the white fabric and stained the towel into something unusable. 

"You cleaned them enough on your own, you know," Damian muses gently, smoothing a stray hair away from your face as he wedges himself between you and the counter to block your view from the towel. "You didn't really need me to do it for you."

"Didn't I?" you say haltingly. "Why did I - why did you do it, then?"

"Do you remember when we were children?" he asks in lieu of answering, a confused look scrunching over your face at his words. "The first time we really fought - the first time you cut me with your sword."

"Yes," you snap just a bit, and you find yourself balling your hands into fists so that you can't stare at your palms any longer.

"I remember it, too," Damian muses further, and you look up at him with furrowed brows while he smiles - something soft and sweet and loving beaming down toward you. "I remember feeling it."

"…What?"

"It's so human to bleed, isn't it? So human to be beaten." Your face morphs into bewilderment at his rambling, at the sweet reminiscence that passes through his voice. He takes your hands into his with a gentleness that wasn't supposed to belong to him, and as he smoothes his thumb over your knuckles you can't help but wonder if there was ever anything really wrong with your hands at all.

"Why are you bringing this up right now?" you ask quietly, and he flips your hands over in his hold so that your palms are facing up, staring back at you as you glare down at them.

"Because I was always human. I just needed you to remind me of it. Sometimes we need to be reminded, beloved. That's all." He says it simply, of course, like the words haven't ripped the ground from underneath you. But they have - and you both know it, you both feel it as you teeter on your feet.

"They don't look like my hands when they're clean like this," you offer hollowly, your voice swallowed by the dim light of the bathroom, shrouded by the love that pours from Damian as he lifts your hands to press kisses to each one of your fingertips. "These aren't my hands anymore."

"But they are, aren't they?" he says simply. "They're yours now more than ever before."

"What am I…" you falter. Damian waits - ever patient, ever solid under your touch. "What do I do with them?"

"Whatever you'd like."

"Should I…" you trail off, staring up at him first and then down to your palms again, his hands tangled with yours. "Should I do something good with them?"

"Do you want to?"

"Always," you answer quickly. "Yes, I - you know I do."

"Well, then," Damian shrugs - like loving you is easy, like knowing you is something he was born to do, "I suppose it's inevitable that you will."

[abbyslvrrr]

Caitvi x fem!reader forced intoxication !!

Finally finished this! I’ve never really written anything like this before so please bear with me! Anyway love you all enjoy this brainrotted price of work!

Cw !! Forced intoxication, they obviously force you to drink. Toxic relationship with Caitlyn and vi. Idk what else, please let me know if there’s more!!

⟡ Caitlyn had texted you that day saying that she and Vi would be coming over to your home; your home was your little pride and joy! You lived in it with your two cats, one white named Bella and a black one named Ender!

⟡ Anywho, they come over; you’re excited to see them after not seeing them for a week. You greet them with a kiss. It was a thing that they both expected from you at this point.

⟡ You had snacks laid out on the table, movie ready! You were wearing a pj set that Vi and Caitlyn had specifically bought for you. All three of you were now cuddled up on the couch watching the movie. Halfway through the movie, Vi pulls out her bottle of vodka, a big bottle too. You fight hard to keep your frown away; they both know that you don't really like alcohol or anything of the sort. A part of them thought it was adorable, but another, darker part of them felt pissed off at this. What do you mean you're 21 and haven't even had a drink? (literally nothing wrong with it)

⟡ The blue-haired girl pulled out 3 little shot glasses, and I poured; you felt yourself growing uncomfortable. I mean, how could you not? Caitlyn reaches out for one and throws it back like it was water; Vi does the same, and they keep taking shot after shot. After a couple of minutes, Caitlyn grabs the extra glass and hands it to you. Looking at her, you feel confused because she knows you don't drink…

“Drink.” Pushing the glass closer. You shake your head no, but apparently she’s not having any of it.

⟡ She grabs your jaw and forces your mouth open and pours the drink in. Before you can spit it out, she clams a hand over your mouth; you scrunch your face in absolute disgust but swallow. Vi hands you a Sprite to wash it down with. You almost threw up; it tasted like pure rubbing alcohol.

“Why would you do that! You know I don't drink and HMP!” Before you could say anything else, another glass was shoved between your lips; this time you spit it out and all over Vi it goes. Looking at her, she looks livid. Your eyes widen in shock. Before you could even get a word out, she grabs a fistful of your hair before getting close to your face.

“Open your fucking mouth and drink.” Bringing the bottle to your lips, she tips it into your mouth, Caitlyn sits behind you. Eventually you begin to feel a bit dizzy and lightheaded; you continue to swallow until half the bottle is left. Vi finally lets go, and you lean more into Cait.

“Good girl,” they both say. Everything is spinning for you, but for some reason, instead of feeling fear or anger, you start to fucking giggle. What the fuck. This was going to be a long ass night.

[bellysoupset]

Lukebell house hunting + Lucas with a migraine. He can't catch a break with me this week.

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

"It's huge," Bella whined, her back pressed against Luke's chest as they walked around yet another house, "like huge."

"It has two bedrooms," Lucas scoffed, wrapping his arms around her, "it's about the same size as Jon and Leo's apartment, baby."

She pouted, self consciously studying the place. It felt like too much, no matter what Luke was saying. Her husband let out a sigh, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "not it?"

"Not it," she decided, "doesn't feel like a home."

"I don't think any place is going to feel like a home, Bell," Lucas walked out of the house with her, squinting at the sunlight and reaching for the sunglasses resting on t-shirt's neck, "we have to make it so."

"No," she insisted, frowning as they entered the car and Luke immediately shut off their music, "our place right now felt like home when I first walked in. It was a little broken and cramped, but it was love at first sight."

"A little cramped is an underestimate," Luke scoffed, starting the car, "each one is next?"

They had a long day ahead of them. It was exhausting to go from place to place and Bella knew she was being nitty picky, so she didn't blame Luke for looking more than a little pissed off as they arrived to the penultimate house in their list.

He had ceased trying to convince her three places before and now only had his lips pressed in a thin line, annoyance written all over his face.

"I'm sorry," Bella sighed, jumping out of the car just as there was a thunder over their heads. The clouds looked as ugly as Luke's frown, "I swear I'm trying, I'm giving them a chance."

"I know, Bell," Lucas rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, slamming the driver's door shut, "let's just get this over with."

She pouted, reaching for his hand, but Luke didn't take it. Sighing, she walked side by side with him.

The house was packed full, it was an Open House, and there were other unities like the one they were visiting, they were told by an overly excited realtor at the door.

"Five more, up the hill," she explained, handing them flyers, "look around, I'm here in case you have any questions."

Bell didn't know what exactly she wanted, but it certainly wasn't a house with five more twins scattered around. She wanted... A little history, a little drama, maybe a haunted basement.

"This house is so shiny," Bella leaned back to whisper to Lucas, "not our speed."

He let out a scoff and she turned her head to look at him. Luke didn't meet her eyes, only grimaced as he glanced around.

"Yeah, alright, let's go then-"

She frowned, "don't you wanna finish looking around...? We haven't even been to the master bedroom yet-"

"No," Lucas grumbled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants, "what's the point?"

Sure.

She squinted at him, starting to feel annoyed at his attitude. Bella wasn't a patient person, but she took a deep breath and brushed off his tone. Luke had been patient with her all day, she could extend him the same grace for two more hours.

"Alright," she grabbed his arm, since he clearly wasn't going to take her hand, "let's go, final one. Let's hope it's the last one."

"I hope," Luke's voice was so quiet that the rain muffled it completely. It had started to pour and they hadn't parked close enough, given the Open House was packed.

Bella let out a squeal as she jumped under the rain, "c'mon! Hurry up, captain!" it didn't matter how fast she was, the downpour was torrential and she was drenched by the time they made it to the car, Lucas looking equally as soaked.

He shuddered, slamming the driver's door closed, and reached for the heater, his teeth chattering. Unlike Bella, he wasn't laughing, and she let out a scoff.

"Oh, cheer up, baby, it's just a little bit of water," she leaned over the handbrake to kiss him, curling her fingers in his wet hair, and Luke let out a sigh, pulling back just enough he could press his forehead to hers.

"I wanna head home."

"I know," Bell pulled back, pressing a peck over his lips, "just this last one and then we can go home and regroup, find other places, ok?"

"Hmmm'kay," he breathed out, letting go off her and still shivering.

The last house was in the opposite direction, twenty minutes away, and Lucas' mood seemed to have completely soured in that time. Bella kept a hand on his shoulder, fingers absently minded running up his neck and scratching at his scalp, but she could tell he was not in the mood to talk, so she kept her attention on the GPS and her phone.

When she looked up, though, her heart sunk.

It wasn't a big house, by no means. A small, two storeys high place that definitely was older than everything they had visited that day, but with a large porch and a tire swing at the front of the property, hanging from the big tree.

"Oh..." Bella mumbled, pushing the door open, rain be damned. She was already squishing in her boots anyways, what was a little more water?

"Bell!" Luke shouted behind her, but she ignored him, walking to the gate, wide eyed.

The realtor came out of the house at Luke's shout, gesturing wildly for her to wait as he went to grab a big black umbrella.

"Isabella, what the fuck," Lucas scoffed, catching up with her, "come back to the car-"

"I love it," she turned to look at him, struggling to see his face, forced to shout over the thunder, "I love it!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Atwood?" The realtor yelled back, clearly not looking one bit pleased as his pristine shoes sank in the mud and Bella turned to smile at him, nodding and well aware she looked crazy.

Once they made it inside, now looking like they had fallen in the deep end of a pool, she could get a better view of the place.

Unlike the previous houses and apartments, this one had no furniture. Hardwood floors, that in some parts had seen better days, a large plant pot having stained a circle there, but was pretty well maintained. A large living room, with big windows to the rainy front yard, a small kitchen that looked like it was out of the 50s with yellow tiles and bulky square cabinets... A staircase with wooden beams leading to the second floor, a horrid beige carpet-

"Fuck," Lucas braced against his knees next to her and Bella jumped, snapping out of her trance.

"Luke?" she walked out of the kitchen's entrance, to her husband, who was holding on the beams with one hand, the other one on his knee, taking deep breaths, "Lucas, what's wrong?"

She had been so sucked in by the place, it was almost difficult to ground herself back in reality. The realtor, who had been standing by the door, looked very concerned, although Bella wasn't sure if it was about Luke's well being or the possibility of him puking all over the carpeted steps, given how ashen his face had turned.

"Hey, baby, look at me-" Bella crouched down in order to get a good look at his face since he was folded in the middle, "look at me-"

Luke's eyes were squeezed shut, but at her request he opened them and Bella immediately cringed as she saw the unevenness of his pupils. It was terrifying to look at, but she had enough experience by now not to freak out.

Uneven pupils meant a cluster headache, in Luke's case, instead of his regular migraines. Bad news because this meant he was essentially down for the count completely, good news because the episodes were never longer than a couple hours.

"Oh no, baby..." she whispered, cupping his cheeks. His throat bobbed as he struggled to swallow and the realtor said, loudly, "Mrs. Atwood, what's wrong? How can I help?"

"Help me get him outside?" she whispered, gesturing for the man to grab Luke's opposite arm. It was clearly taking all of Lucas' willpower not to throw up and he barely registered as the scrawny man grabbed his bicep and started to steer him towards the door.

They almost made it. Literally one footstep away from the front door, he let out a half heave-half burp and his lunch splattered all over the floors. Bella let out a groan, not out of disgust, but because at the same time he started to throw up, his knees seemed to give in and it was taking all her effort not to collapse down, even with the other man also holding Luke up.

"Ma'am!?" The realtor squeaked, too loud, and Lucas let out a sob at his voice, while Bella glared at the man.

"Shh!" she whispered, harshly, struggling to take a step back, "baby, I'm going to help you sit down, alright-" she stumbled back slightly, trying to pull Luke away from the mess, although truly that was the least of her concerns. The realtor - Frank? Franz? - was frozen, and Bella glared at him again, "help me sit him down-"

"The hardwood floors-"

She widened her eyes in disbelief and incredulity at his lack of concern over the man about to pass the fuck out between them.

"Help. Me," Bella said slowly, a little louder than she should, voice trembling under her anger. Her face felt warm and it probably showed that she was a couple seconds away from throwing hands, because Franz-or-Frank gulped down and helped her steer Luke backwards, until he was sitting down.

He let out a whimper, fingers curling on the roots of his hair and pulling at it, as if he wanted to open his skull, "Bell it hurtssss- i-uckit'urtssss..."

"I know," she whispered, planting a hand on his nape, squeezing it there and using the other one to carefully pull his hands away from his hair. She had actually witnessed Lucas pull a chunk of hair once and it traumatized her.

"Frank?" Bella looked over her shoulder and the man jumped to help, looking more than a little terrified.

"I'm going to call an ambulance-"

"No," she shook her head, she had left her purse in the car and moving Luke to grab his in the back pocket wasn't a good idea, "I need your phone-"

"He's having a stroke!" Franz-or-Frank cried out and Luke whimpered at the noise, gagging at his lap and starting to rock in place.

"he's not having a stroke, Frank!" Bella snapped at him, letting go of Luke's shoulder in order to snatch the phone out of the realtor's hand, however rude this was. She hung up before the 911 connection and let out a sigh, struggling to remember the number she wanted to dial.

"Oh my fucking Christ," Franz-or-Frank was mumbling, horrified, as Luke let out another retch and used his fist to hit his head.

"No, baby, don't do this-" Bella whispered, easily lowering his hands. His blows had no power, nor did she think he was doing it on purpose, he just wanted for the pain to stop... The call connected.

"Dr. Jonah Banks speaking, who is this?" Jonah's voice was rough and impatient, as usual, but Bella barely registered it.

"Jon!" She whispered, pressing the phone between her cheek and shoulder, "it's Bella, I need your help. Luke-"

"Bella?" Jonah talked over her, "why are you calling me from an unknown number? What's wrong?"

"Lucas is down," Bella squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the panic off her voice, "as in really down, it's a cluster headache and I can't help him up and we're stranded and- He's in so much pain, I don't know what to do..."

There was a pause. Then Jonah breathing out.

"What's the address, darling? I'm going to have an ambulance sent there."

"An ambulance?" Bella frowned, "it's a cluster headache, Jon, he doesn't need-"

"He needs paramedics, Bell, who can lift him properly. And morphine to knock him out wouldn't hurt," Jonah's impatience grew, but she could easily tell it was concealing his worry, "address?"

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

"Why do you look like a drowned rat?" Wendy teased her, whispering, as she walked in the ER section where Luke was passed out. Bella sniffled, rolling her eyes.

"It's a long story," she shivered, hugging herself and Wendy turned around, without saying a word. A minute later she returned with a blanket and Bella gladly took it.

"Jonah said Luke was screaming in the ambulance," she said quietly, "I'm sorry, that's terrifying."

Bell pouted, leaning forward so her head was resting on the edge of the mattress, "I just feel bad for him, I was so in my head... I should've noticed sooner he wasn't well."

"Did he say anything before?" Wendy reached in, running her fingers through Bell's curls and starting to separate them into large chunks so she could braid them.

"No... He did say he wanted to go home, but I thought he was just pissed off. It was a long day," Bella rubbed at her face, yawning, "we nearly killed the realtor from fright."

Wendy let out a chuckle, glad that Bella didn't seem as emotionally wrecked as she expected her to be after Jon had mentioned the scary call in the middle of his evening.

"You gave him a super cool story to tell during dinner, I'm sure," Wendy patted her friend's back and Bella let out a snort.

"I'm mostly worried that he won't take our offer now," she opened a small smile, reaching in to brush Luke's hair back. He was drugged up to his eyeballs, so his face looked peaceful, "or that Luke won't want the house after this episode."

"Bella," Wendy grinned, bumping her shoulder against hers, "as if he could ever say no to you. Besides, he puked on the front door, nothing says home quite like that."

[secret-moonstruck]

IN MY DREAMS | P. SH

— Pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/N didn't know what fantasy or reality was, always dreaming about this mysterious man. Subtle touches and a wonderful evening bringing the truth.

— Genre: light smut, fantasy

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, hickeys.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

The days have been tiring for Y/N, she has always had trouble sleeping, however, since she saw this man at the entrance of her building a few days ago, it has gotten worse. The same thing always happens, she is having a normal dream, but suddenly everything changes in a strange way where he is there. Perfectly beautiful, so real, but at the same time so ethereal. However, whenever the dream is good, she ends up waking up, her damn sleeping problem interfering. When she wakes up, she can't go back to sleep thinking about him.

She was leaving her apartment when she saw him again, he was entering the apartment next to hers. No, he couldn't be her neighbor.

When he passed, she looked at the ground, avoiding him, embarrassed by the dreams and thoughts she had about him. It's not like he knew what was going through her mind, but she still felt ashamed.

At work, she received an order, she didn't remember ordering anything, but she often received gifts from customers thanking her for her work. They were beautiful handmade chocolates. There was a note too.

“Eating a sweet before bed helps you have a light and sweet sleep.” - P.SH

- I hope it really helps. - She said to herself, thinking about the sleepless nights.

Y/N was already getting ready for bed when she remembered the chocolates. She went to her bag and took out the box, then ate one, it was really very delicious. She hoped it would actually help.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep.

It all started as usual, a normal, boring dream, actually a little irritating. She was in her office, feeling stupid and not being able to complete a project. It was irritating that she didn't even get a break from work even when sleeping.

- You must be very stressed to be dreaming about work.

Y/N looked for where the voice was coming from... there he was, the mysterious man, well now not so mysterious, now she knew he was her neighbor.

As soon as she noticed his presence, the atmosphere changed, they were no longer in his office. They were in a garden covered in snow, it was beautiful, and despite the snow, it wasn't cold. There was a lake with a big tree in the middle. It was a calm and peaceful place. She felt light.

- Thanks. - She thanked him. - Whenever you appear, everything becomes beautiful, it's so good.

- Actually, Y/N, haven't you noticed yet? It is not a consequence of my presence. I'm the one who takes you where I think you can feel good.

Y/N was confused, did he do that? But how? Shouldn't she be the one who controls her own dream? Why would a creation of her mind have control?

Sunghoon noticed how confused she was, so he snapped his fingers as he tried to show her.

The environment changed again, they were now in a beautiful ancient room, it looked like a palace. His clothes also changed.

She wore a white dress, her hair falling in waves, tied to the side with white feathers, red lips.

Sunghoon impeccable as always, his outfit so simple but perfect for him, his layered white blouse and simple black pants.

He took her hand, leading her to the window, the sun was setting. As she watched the sunset, he didn't take his eyes off her.

- I'm sorry, Y/N. - He said turning her towards him. - I sent the chocolates. I come into your dreams every night, but you always leave me. I needed to make sure you wouldn't leave me today.

- I don't understand.  - What did he mean by that?  - How did you send me the chocolates? This was in real life, not in a dream.

- Yes. I, your neighbor, sent it. That way, you would sleep through the night, and not leave me like every other night. It's frustrating, every time I think I'll finally have you, you disappear.

Sunghoon touched Y/N's face, a gentle touch, but it sent shivers through her body.

So many times she melted at his touches, but they never managed to go any further, that's what he was talking about.

So many nights when she woke up with the feeling of his hands that left her weak under his touches, his lips that spread trails of kisses all over her body. So many nights when she woke up frustrated and angry, her desire for him getting greater every day, but never being able to have him for herself.

He was also tired, so many times he came so close to taking her and she always left him alone.

- Thanks. - Y/N said, looking into his eyes. - I also couldn't bear to always wake up and realize that you weren't there, that it was an incomplete dream. Even if it really is a dream. I will believe that this is all real. So, dream or reality, thank you for bringing me here.

Y/N stood up on her tiptoes, even with her heels she had to pull him by his shirt to be able to kiss him.

They had already kissed in other dreams, but this time it felt more real, she felt perfectly the heat of his lips, she felt the touch of his hand on her waist, the other on her neck. The kiss was calm but intense, she felt the desire he had for her throughout her body.

When they separated, and she opened her eyes, she realized that they were no longer in the same place.

They were now in a huge white room, it seemed so old, so surreal, everything was beautiful. 

He took her to the big soft bed, guided her to the center of the bed, making her sit on her knees. She felt increasingly anxious as he tied her hands with a long red satin ribbon. Soon after, with another tape, but this time white, he blindfolded her eyes.

She shivered as she felt his fingers run across her face, down her neck as he admired her.

- You're perfect. I looked for you so much, I waited so long for this moment. - He whispered to Y/N, who didn't understand what he meant, but that didn't matter to her.

He lifted her a little, then kissed her, the kiss was more urgent than the previous one, his hands running down her side, up her exposed legs, while he trailed the kiss down her neck.

- Please, Sunghoon. - Y/N asked amidst sighs. - I need you.

Obediently, he continued, his fingers undoing the ribbons on Y/N's dress, sliding it off her body. 

The fact that she was blindfolded and trapped seemed to make Y/N feel everything more intense, every little touch from Sunghoon made her shiver. And he noticed the effect it had, it made him yearn for her even more.

Y/N felt him move away, it didn't take long for him to be with her again. Kissing her again, he made her lie down, she felt the heat of his body against hers.

He took her tied hands and lifted her above his head, then distributing hot kisses all over her body, until he reached her wetness, interspersing between her lips and his long fingers, he prepared her. 

Pulling her onto his lap, Y/N wrapped her trapped hands around his neck to hold on.

Moans leaving both of their lips, pleasure coursing through their bodies as they moved.

So many days that were interrupted, finally having the pleasure they had waited so long for.

Their sweaty bodies were pressed together as they sought more and more of each other.

Breathing heavily as the pleasure finally exploded, as they climaxed.

Sunghoon tugged on Y/N's hands, releasing her and removing her blindfold, a smile on his face as they kissed.

Y/N woke up suddenly. A horrible pain in your head, a whirlwind of memories invading at the same time.

She wasn't her. It was another life. Sunghoon was exactly like now, he was a vampire, that's why he could enter your dreams, it was his power. People accused him of having attacked the villagers and were hunting him. Y/N, even though she was just a human, stood in front of him when arrows were shot, dyeing her. Sunghoon cried as she died in his arms. 

Dizzy with so much information, Y/N ran out of her room, when she opened the door to her apartment, she found Sunghoon panting. They looked at each other for a moment before he picked her up and kissed her. 

- I remember everything. - She said, tears running down her face.

- I couldn't protect you, I hated myself when I let you go. I looked for you every day of my existence. But I finally found you. And I will never lose you again.

[xf-cases-solved]

S2E10: Red Museum

Case: Bro, don't make me try to summarize "Red Museum," so many things happen and every single one of them is baffling.

You know what? This entire episode feels like an SNL Stefon sketch, so I'm going to write it as one.

If you're looking for a monster-of-the-week X-Files tale centering around obscure religions, look no further. Fox network's hottest new episode is "Red Museum." This episode has everything. A cult of creepy vegetarians who all wear red turbans and whose sermons are all written on the fly by a dude who has a really impressive WPM. Children wandering around the woods in their underwear with "HE/SHE IS ONE" written on their backs with black Sharpie. Walk-ins.

Oh, what's a walk-in? It's that thing where a body's original soul is replaced by a new, different soul for some reason.

But that's okay if that's not for you. If what you're looking for is a story about a deep-seated conspiracy of unethical medical experiments, look no further. Fox network's hottest new episode is still "Red Museum." This episode has everything. An awkward road trip with an old man out into the countryside where he tells you his life story, unprompted. A random plane crash implicating the local doctor. Bovine somatotropin.

Oh, what's bovine somatotropin? It's that thing where you genetically engineer a growth hormone and give it to cows to make them produce more milk.

Still not what you're looking for? That's no problem. For those of you itching for some more myth arc plot, look no further. Fox network's hottest new episode continues to be fucking "Red Museum." This episode has everything. A middle-aged white man you're somehow supposed to distinguish from the millions of other middle-aged white men and remember that he's the guy that killed Deep Throat. A complete lack of usable evidence. Purity Control derivatives.

Oh, what's Purity Control? It's that thing from "The Erlenmeyer Flask" where you mix human DNA with alien DNA to conduct a series of experiments on the unsuspecting human population. 

Also, there's a perv creeping on kids through peepholes.

Anyway. This episode... goes some places. 

Moving on.

Does someone die in the cold open: My notes say, "no death in CO, but that kid is fucked up," which I feel is a good summary.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: YES!! Our boy and his projector have finally been reunited at last! He hasn't done a slideshow since "Tooms," which actually makes it all make sense now, bc that was the one he did in court that made me (and Scully) want to die from secondhand embarrassment. Maybe Scully had been keeping the projector locked away until he proved he could be trusted with it. She had the key to the storage closet in her pocket when she was abducted.

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Yeah, nah.

Whodunit: Bro, I don't fucking know. All of them. They all did it. Every single person is complicit. You're complicit. I'm complicit. Just blow the planet up and start over.

Convictions: 🙄😒

Did they solve it: Last line of the episode is "this case remains open and unsolved," soooooo. I'm not even giving them a "no, but" bc they didn't even manage to keep Deep Throat's killer alive long enough to get any useful information out of him. Maybe they shouldn't have given you guys the X-Files back, actually...

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

This episode is sponsored by: Part one of this five part SNL Stefon YouTube compilation for those of you who had no idea wtf I was referencing up there

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 15 (they haven't solved anything since fucking "blood," and technically they weren't even on the x-files then. they haven't solved a genuine x-file since "roland," and i only gave them that one out of pity. time to just keep the x-files closed and assign them to the department that tracks down people who pirate movies. mulder & scully and the search for the Truth 20-something college kid making copies of jurassic park to give to his cousin in exchange for weed)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me": 9

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 6

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 14 (i think they technically both could have gotten blown up, right?) 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 14 (i expected these two stats specifically to be more disproportionate, but so far they're pretty even huh)

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 19 (bbq napkin scene. she wants to devour those ribs and then devour him)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 5

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2 

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 21

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Times Someone Correctly Guesses a Password: 3 

Total Number of (Plot Relevant) Nosebleeds: 5

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 4 (it was just gas, but it was on the floor of a slaughterhouse, directly underneath a hanging hunk of beef, and there was a very obvious red can labeled "gasoline" sitting three feet away on the floor, so i feel like he could have made that inference without sticking his hand in it)

Total Number of Times People Fight in a Parking Garage: 1 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 3 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 4 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 2 

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 16 

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 3

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 3

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 3 (no more krycek for right now 😔. mulder's projector has returned, but still we lie in wait for rat boy's resurgence)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 13½ (not only did i not know, but i wrote this up over the course of two days, and had already forgotten by the time i got to this stat even tho i looked it up yesterday)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 7 (i am still not convinced i followed the whole thing. i don't think it's possible)

[thingsthatresemblewords]

Part of me can't believe I've been reading fanfiction for more than a decade but have never written any before. The other part of me is excited to finally have a series that inspired me to write something. It's not much, but here's my contribution to the Deep Space Discounts fandom.

Imme took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Hey Vee? I just wanted to check on you, you've been in there for a while and I thought I heard a *crash* a little while ago and..."

The door to the employee bathroom whooshed open before Imme could finish her sentence. Her eyes immediately went past Vee and fell on the wreckage behind her.

"Oh. Oh God. Vee, is that..."

"A destroyed receipt printer? Yep. Sure is. They don't want us to have access to anything that could be used as a weapon while we're here, but Kip figured out that, if he "disassembled" a printer, the sharp edge that is used to cut the receipts could be used as a knife."

DeeDee's face lit up on Vee's wrist. "Attention [VEE]! You have added [THREE HOURS] to your sentence for [DESTRUCTION OF DEEP SPACE DISCOUNTS PROPERTY]!"

Vee shrugged. "Worth it."

Imme stood rooted to the ground with shock. "*Why* was it worth it?" she asked. Her eyes drifted up to Vee's scraggly bangs, now somewhat scragglier than before. The penny dropped. "Oooooh. ...Do you want some help with that?"

Vee's grin turned a little sheepish. "Yes please?"

Imme stepped into the bathroom and took the blade from Vee's hand. "Here. Why don't you... sit down and we'll get this taken care of. Do you want the back any shorter?"

Vee nodded. "Might as well, it's all getting a bit longer than I'd like it to be."

Vee parked herself on the floor in front of the toilet while Imme seated herself on the closed lid behind her. "Okay, I haven't *exactly* cut hair before, but it should still turn out better when you're not trying to do this yourself." Imme paused and adjusted her grip on the printer blade. "You know you could have asked me for help, right?"

Vee blushed. "I didn't want to... bother you... with something so silly. I've managed okay on my own before."

Imme's fingers combed through Vee's hair, and she pulled the first section taut so that she could run the blade through it. It slipped through with almost no difficulty; clearly space technology was so far ahead of Earth's that even the shoddy, cheap stuff was precise and well-made. Imme shook off her shock at this discovery and continued working. Another small pinch of hair fell to the floor.

"You *really* don't need to worry about that. Whether it's handling customers or haircuts, I've got your back."

They fell silent for a while, and the only sound was the smooth *shhk* of the printer blade through hair. Imme lost herself to the silky, familiar-yet-different feel of Vee's hair and the quiet rhythm of the work. At length she realized that she was out of hair in the back to trim.

"Okay, I think I've got the hang of this enough to try the bangs. Turn around for me?"

Vee scooted around until they were face to face.

Imme took a deep breath and looked Vee in the eyes. "You ready?"

Vee smiled reassuringly. "Absolutely."

Imme leaned in and gently took the first section of Vee's bangs between her fingers and ran the blade through it. She was so intensely focused on doing that it wasn't until she had finished that she realized that they were very, very close. Her eyes met Vee's and for a long moment they just looked at each other, both subconsciously holding their breath as the moment hung suspended in time.

They might have stayed there longer if they weren't startled apart by a loud bang on the door and the muffled but unmistakable sound of Kip yelling. "Quit making out in there, I need to pee!"

Imme blushed hard and lept up from where she was sitting, and she stammered back, "Sorry, I- we weren't- I just-"

"Shut up Kip!" Vee shouted back. She and Imme tumbled through the door and back into the break room, flustered and embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Imme, I-"

"No, *I'm* sorry, you don't need to-"

They cut eachother off, and then paused. Vee broke the silence first. "So, did it turn out okay? How do I look?"

Imme's blush somehow got darker. "It's good. You look... you look really good." She turned away and started back towards the floor. "I'm gonna go see if Clayre wants me to cover a break, I'll talk to you later."

Vee stood for a moment and watched Imme leave. Finally she sighed and turned to look in the mirror. She brushed her fingers through her newly evened-out bangs and remembered the feeling of Imme's soft, measured breathing against her forehead. Distantly, she registered a furious, muffled shout of "Why is there HAIR EVERYWHERE!"

[no-not-without-you-blog]

FMRN

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Based on FMRN by Lilyisthatyou

Warnings: Language, discussion of sex, partial nudity, reader being a brat.

Spotify Scraps | Masterlist

It wasn’t like Steve to just get up and walk out of a meeting, especially one as important as a debrief with the Secretary of State. But he quickly excused himself and walked out of the room without another word, much to the shock of his fellow avengers and Secretary Ross.

His jaw flexed as he made his way to his office. He walked in, closed the door, and sighed before turning around.

“You want to explain what you sent to me, sweetheart?” His voice calm but laced with frustration and something darker, hungrier.

You were sitting on the edge of his desk, legs crossed politely,  smiling up at him as innocently as you could.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know perfectly well what I mean. Do I need to refresh your memory?” He cleared his throat as he pulled out his phone and pulled up your message. “Can you come fuck me right now? I can’t wait any longer, need you to take me in your office. If I get to loud, you can cover my mouth.”

You stood up and walked over to him, only inches apart, gently tracing your fingers down to his belt. “I mean, it seems pretty straightforward to me, Steve. Was I not clear? Do I need to ask again?” You were still looking at him so sweetly it made him groan.

He pulled you close, feeling your body mold into his. He leaned down and kissed you on your neck, hitting that spot that always sent a shiver down your body. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.  I thought we were trying to keep this under wraps. I just sprinted out of a meeting with your father of all people.” 

You bit your lip to try to stop the grin on your face from spreading. “I know. I have lunch with him in an hour. I didn’t want to have to sit through lunch without feeling you leak out of me.” You could tell that he was right on the edge of losing it when you placed his hands on both sides of your floaty, innocent looking sundress and made him drag his hands up your hips, revealing you had on nothing underneath. 

“So please, Baby, can you help me?”

Welp, here we go. I haven't written in so long but felt drawn to get back into it. So we started with a nice flirty drabble. Let me know what you think!

[distant--shadow]

Yeah, it's 100% an issue of question curation, not an issue with questions being asked. There's literally no way that you could know that without specifically seeking out questions that were submitted but not answered, but I guess some people are expecting you to be clairvoyant...

It's a shame because it's probably the only fireside chat Laura'll do for at least a year. I think the quesitons that get the most repeat submissions are always going to be the memey ones, which is why they really need a dedicated person to pick out the most interesting questions during fireside chats, otherwise we're just gonna keep getting shallow questions.

Also, I was just thinking the other day about how girlfailure is kinda like the new bimbo and it bothers me. Like, yeah, it means ditzy and klutzy and we can say it affectionately all we like, we're still kinda trivialising feminity. It's also a really clunky word that sounds bad to say. If you wanna talk more about it, I'd like to hear it

I feel you here, but as I keep tryna say I don't think it's 100% an issue on curation, because those silly questions had to be submitted in the first place, and the person curating them has to have some sort of belief or knowledge that it is what the audience wants to hear. I can take an argument for lightheartedness, but as I said, it's within the context of all of the grievances people have had with this campaign, I guess paired maybe with underlying concerns I could have about them tryna appeal to a certain crowd, and how that could effect the main campaign format eventually. I don't know the current time line for recording, so there's all chance that the latest episode was filmed an amount of time before the fireside chat, so that added to wanting to steer from too current questions as it would maybe spoil. but then again I say, the show didn't have to be this week. and you're very right, it is so frustrating because we have a lot less of a look behind the curtain with this campaign than we did c2, and yes they're so busy, but it's frustrating because we (or at least I) don't want any of the bells and whistles in this extra content. I'm not looking to fulfil a social need watching them hang out, I want to get a grasp of what is going on, or at least not have it replaced by the goofing.

of course part of why I was posting initially with pretty heavy words is because I was feeling pissed off about it, you wait a long time for something to come round and it just feels like the same information rehashed to you, or yeah as I said in other posts, it feels like an obvious infiltration of fandom and like you're getting pandered to. and hey, maybe that's the fault of this campaign, maybe the majority feel it's so lacking they'd rather say fuck it, I'd rather AU to everyone's face.

I'll say a little bit on the girl failure thing, because I am almost certain people have written good and thought out essays and pieces on this stuff, but what I will say is what my gut says. firstly, there has been a huge up tick in the use of girl by women in general in recent years, and as a simple quick note on that: I don't like it. it shows a denial of aging, a wish to not be associated with what is woman, as well as literally the word for a child. yes, I understand the complexities of a society where getting houses and a lot of these other classic age associated milestones are really hard if not impossible, and that language evolves and definitions change, but what a denial of the experiences you do get to have instead. there's a lot of freedoms we have that prior generations haven't. to go through all of that and still call other women girls is just. it's not it. I can understand an argument for preference, but as I said, to use it for others is infantilising. showing my age here, I'm sure, but it's the way girl has become like an identity vs woman. why are you so scared of being a woman? what is it about if that you dislike? how does that play into-

girlfailure, and people using it so casually for everything and it becoming a meme.

language is important. and I shoudlnt be allowed to say that because I haven't proof read a post in my life and I've got a sieve brain from years of drug use. but the language you use plants seeds. when you make jokes and belittle yourself, do you know what kind of people see that and think, huh, well if they're saying it it's fine for me to say it too, and who goes on to repeat it the loudest? how, genuinely, I genuinely believe this, yknow, you watch those videos and read those pieces on how people basically become fascists without realising, from the wildest paths. that it's often a long chain of events. behaviour starts somewhere. and yeah, this is a huge dumbing down and simplification of that and I'm sure a lot of people will argue I'm being delusional and dramatique', but associating a negative trait with a gender or a sex or a race or ability, making it a meme, using that meme, even if it's initially only used by the people it applies to, it gets co-opted by those it doesn't, and in time is used as ammunition against them. do I think that every person saying girlfailure or girlmath is using it with vicious intent? no. but I'm old enough to have grown up with changing vocabulary and words that are derogatory and thought of as totally fine to use in every day language and were in reality dehumanising and or belittling the people they were used against. basically? girlfailure gives me the ick. sure, girlfail all over yourself if you have to. don't use it for other women. don't put it out there.

it's never made sense for me for Imogen. yeah, she's a goof at times, but her failures are literally dice rolls, why is no one else a girlfailure? she's been rediculously perceptive (lol not visually) so many fucking times. what do you mean all you've wanted is for Imogen to be a girlfailure? you want her to flunk everything she attempts? doesn't seem to line up with the Imogen I very much enjoy seeing and people claim is what they love to see.

finally, and this might be huge news to some people, I can think girlfailure is a shitty term and propagating misogyny, and that doesn't take away from how much of my concerns are focused in areas that need more attention, doesn't mean it's all I care about. as I'm always saying, change happens locally, within communities. change starts with small actions as well as big ones. language is important. if you don't see how small things play into the big things then I'm sorry, the world isn't that simple. dehumanising and the like starts at micro levels. and before u know it it's law.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[giantkillerjack]

Ya know. I spent most of my life with horrible painful soul-crushing social anxiety.

And after about 25 years of continuous hard work, suddenly, people started pointing out - to my utter bafflement - that I had, in fact, achieved my lifelong dream of being charismatic. I'm 29 now; I feel comfortable in most social situations, and it is a very rare person whom I cannot make laugh.

I am, undoubtedly, finally, charismatic.

But do you know what I found?

I found that now that I have an understanding of which social rules serve which functions -- Now that I have an understanding of just how much damage my awkwardness was doing to people, well,

I found that, actually, my awkwardness never really hurt anyone at all. People were just judgmental dicks to me about it.

Now that I have the skill-level to (most of the time) creatively vocalize what is in my head as soon as I think it and without fear, I can confirm once and for all what I had always suspected:

I was worth talking to when I was quiet.

I was worth talking to when I was awkward, and when the words in my head took time and patience to hear, and when most of my jokes didn't land. I was worth talking to the whole time.

So I just... I hope that if you've ever wondered whether you are worth communicating with, the answer is yes. Absolutely yes. Each of us has a soul worth sharing - and if you and I were talking, I would happily wait for you to speak (or communicate in other ways) without condescending, and I would never shame you for that harmless awkwardness that so many people feel the need to violently stomp out.

You are worth talking to. You just are. And you deserve people who will speak to you with kindness, with patience, and with the basic immutable respect owed to all people.

(I talk about this with some frequency, both on tumblr and in real life. At some point, maybe I'll gather all my thoughts on the matter into one post. At some point, I wrote about my personal experience trying to build my social skill. But I felt the need to say at least a little bit tonight after seeing this other lovely post, and I'm glad I did. It will happen again.)

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐞.𝐦.

This piece contains 18+ content.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends → lovers]

Summary Eddie holds good on his promise to take you out on a date, and as the night comes to a close, you realize you’re not ready to say goodbye [fluff, smut, 4.3k].

A/N This is the long-awaited continuation of come whatever may. You can read that first if you'd like, but enough context will be provided here. Spoiler alert: the sex is very soft, teasy, and desperate because they’re in l-o-v-e. Haven't written smut in nearly two years, but I evoked the muses of times past—and thus!...

PART 1

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Summer is long gone, but when you open the door to Eddie holding flowers, the warmth that rises to your cheeks makes it feel nearer than ever. It’s a vibrant bouquet composed of white roses, red lilies, baby’s breath, and leafy foliage. The wrapper crinkles as he extends them to you with an easy smile and soft hello. Your eyes flick back up to his after admiring the delicate blooms. 

There’s a healthy flush to his cheeks, his curls neat and defined. The black leather jacket he’s wearing clings to his slender frame with a polished edge. Under the weight of your gaze, he huffs out a chuckle that reminds you you’re still on earth. 

“Gonna let me in, sweetheart?” Charm drips from his voice and shimmers within his chocolate eyes. 

Nodding, you shuffle backwards, allowing him to enter and push the door shut behind himself. As he steps further inside, you can feel his gaze sweeping over your outfit. An olive-green corduroy dress layered over a beige turtleneck that’s soft against your skin. His smile grows, glinting bright enough for anyone to believe he just won the Lotto when, really, it’s just the pretty sight of you holding the flowers he bought. 

“These are beautiful.” You raise the bouquet, but Eddie’s eyes remain on you. Seeking refuge from his gaze, you tuck your nose down to inhale the sweet fragrance of the petals. “They smell amazing too.” 

“That’s all you, sweetheart.” 

You get shy when his eyes meet yours. “You like my outfit and everything?” 

Eddie swallows back a degree of his earnestness so he doesn’t sound too far gone. “Of course I do, are you kidding me?” 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Robin descends the staircase with a bag slung over her shoulder like she’s prepared to leave, hair tied up in a messy bun. Given your parents were away in Indianapolis for the weekend, you’d asked her to come over and help you get ready so you wouldn’t be alone. 

Eddie’s eyes flick to her, clearing his throat. “Did you help her pick this out, Buckley?” 

“Obviously,” she smirks. “Nice hair.” 

“It is really nice,” you agree with a soft smile. Eddie lifts a passive shoulder, chest fluttering. 

“Rob, do you think you could…” she takes the bouquet without you having to ask. The two of you had shuffled through the attic and dug out a vase earlier that afternoon. 

Eddie had promised this date, along with flowers, a week ago when you slipped away from Steve’s party to be alone. That night, he’d kissed you in the heat of the moment but wanted to backtrack and do things right. You deserved that much. 

The time you’ve been looking forward to has finally come. 

With your hands now free, the only thing you can think to do is wrap your arms around Eddie. The world goes still as he hugs you back, nerves quelling beneath your skin. For a moment, you merely enjoy the warmth of the same arms you’ve been wrapped in countless times before. With your head tucked into his chest, enveloped by the faint scent of his cologne, you release all the worries that ride on the sweeping coattails of change. For a moment, he’s just Eddie, your best friend. 

When you pull away, he leans in, tilting his head with that familiar, boyish curiosity. “You alright?” he asks quietly, searching your gaze.

You nod, a smile breaking through. He takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, “Just checkin’.” 

Robin soon walks back into the foyer. “I put the flowers in a vase for you,” she announces, taking her hair down and shaking it out. “Hate to admit it, but you two are actually cute. It’s disgusting.” 

“Hey,” Eddie lifts his hands, laughing. “Little victories.” 

She adjusts her bag on her shoulder with a content sigh. “Welp, I’m about to go pester Harrington at Family Video.” She turns to Eddie, playfully narrowing her eyes. “You better treat her right, ‘cause best believe I’ll be hearing all about this date.” 

When she slips out the door, Eddie smiles at you in silent assurance. 

●・○・●・○・●

The sun hasn’t quite begun to set, but orange and pink faintly blend on the horizon. A cool fall breeze flows in through the cracked windows as the radio plays softly. Eddie had asked his Uncle Wayne to borrow his pickup truck because it’d be more romantic than his bulky van. You can’t say whether he was right, only that you’re grateful to be riding shotgun with him—headed to an unknown destination, no less. 

You’d already guessed through a list of places that Eddie denied with amusement. Sighing, you look out the window to people bustling about, walking dogs and strolling out of shops. You’re coming out of the more commercial side of town, nearing Lover’s Lake and the state park.  

“I give up,” you sigh. 

Eddie chuckles, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, ignorant to his warming effect on you. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you a hint.” That makes you peer over at him in interest. “If I had to guess, I’d say not a lot of people have had the chance to try it out yet.” 

That’s a dead giveaway. Your mouth falls open in surprise. “That new place along the lake—Stillwater Grill?” The twitch of Eddie’s lips is telling. “No way!” The excitement in your voice makes his chest tighten.

Stillwater was supposed to be good, from what you’d heard. A slightly elevated dining experience minus the formalities and steep pricing of a restaurant like Enzo’s. Where classic American favorites embrace small-town charm, according to the paper. 

Upon your arrival, the parking lot houses a pretty decent number of cars. Lover’s Lake provides a serene backdrop that catches the evening light. Couples stand outside admiring the view. Eddie opens your door and helps you out of the truck like a proper gentleman. You happily tuck yourself into him as you walk inside. 

When you were younger, you often wondered what love would be like. Books and the movies always presented countless possibilities, but you always believed it’d be special for you. So different that nothing else would be able to compare—perhaps, selfishly. One thing for sure, you never could’ve dreamed up someone like Eddie. 

As he sits across from you under the dim glow of the lights, laughter and chatter filling the air, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to put all this into words. Belly full, you realize what you’ve enjoyed even more than the food and cozy, rustic atmosphere was is company. 

Eddie has an inexplicably magnetic way. There was a magic in getting him all to yourself. In relishing the lovely sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was always on the verge of laughter. The passion he exuded made it seem like the way he loved a given thing was biblical. He could talk the ear off a cornfield if he wanted but knew instinctively when to listen. Even your passing remarks seemed to bear some semblance of importance to him.  

Conversing with him had always been easy, but without other people vying for his attention, you were truly able to admire the boy before you. To embrace the deepening attraction. 

As you wait for the waiter to bring the tab, you don’t realize you’ve grown silent and begun blinking at him with the fondest eyes. 

●・○・●・○・●

The wooden stairs of your front porch creak under both your footsteps as you climb them, stopping in front of your front door as the night settles around you. Moths flutter around the lanterns framing the door, crickets chirp in the lawn. Eddie kicks at a dead leaf, combing through a sea of thoughts in search of the right words. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says. You wait for him to continue. His doe eyes search yours for the briefest moment, seeing right through you it seems. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? ‘Cause I think it’s gonna be hard for me to quit you.” 

Your mouth opens a couple times in a mix of giddiness and surprise. “Yeah,” you finally breathe. “Yeah, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

Smiling, he steps forward to capture your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that you feel everywhere. It manages to outshine the first, more desperate, kiss you’d shared a week prior. This one is steady and sure, like a promise sealed with a prim bow. When he pulls away to look into your eyes, you shyly duck your head. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asks, lifting your chin. 

He doesn’t want to go, instead wishing he could stall and stay right here with you. He’s parted ways with you hundreds of times before, but now he can’t seem to figure out how he ever did. That’s how he knows he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

“I’ll pick up,” you promise. 

He stands at your door until you see yourself inside. It’s quiet without him. Your eyes land on the flowers he got you, now in a vase in the living room thanks to Robin. Too quiet. The sound of your front door reopening stops Eddie in his tracks. He turns around with a slight furrow between his brows. 

“Everything okay?” he calls, mindful of his volume. 

You make a small motion for him to come back to you. He listens in a heartbeat. 

There’s a weighted look in his eyes beneath the playfulness, “Miss me already?” 

“No,” you lie. 

●・○・●・○・●

It’s a wonder how you manage to make it feel like there’s a pleasant fire kindling within him. What started out as yet another easy conversation, has turned into you straddling his lap on the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as the TV drones in the background.

Everything feels heightened now. The brush of your lips against his, your fingers gently scratching at the nape of his neck. 

Eddie’s lips part in a soft, shuddering breath when you roll your hips over him. 

“Hold on a second, sweetheart.” His eyebrows are pinched as he pulls back from the kiss, hands stilling you. 

You blink down at him all owl-like. “Did I do something?” you murmur, purposely shifting over him again.

He restrains from canting his hips upwards. There’s a softness to his gaze even though his cheeks are flushed hot. 

“If getting me worked up counts. You’re real good at that.” His shamelessness is dizzying. “Just don’t wanna get ahead of myself.” It’s a subtle invitation, a chance for you to call things off in case you aren’t on the same page. 

But you can feel warmth pooling low in your belly. “What else am I good at?” 

He knows you’re game then. For whatever this is, whatever it’s bound to become. 

“Trying to pretend I’m not driving you crazy too.” He chuckles when you duck to hide your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 

There’s a gentleness to the way Eddie’s hand slips beneath the hem of your dress, meeting the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

“Eddie,” you murmur, lifting from his neck as his fingers continue their trail upwards.

“Hmm?” He pauses, thumb stroking your skin in soft circles. 

“Can we go to my room?” A slight shiver runs through you as his fingers move to trace along the crease of your thigh.

“Your call, sweetheart.” 

Before he withdraws his hand, he snaps the waistband of your panties and grins when you straighten.  

●・○・●・○・●

The lamp on your nightstand casts everything in a dim, warm glow. Eddie shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your desk chair, eyes roving over the notebooks and pens strewn about. The sight of his tattooed arms makes you move to kiss him again, letting your lips wander to the corner of his mouth and his chin in a trail of warmth. He throbs in his jeans when you slip your fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and curl them into his stomach. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and steps back enough to pull the fabric over his head in one swift movement, muscles rippling as the dark ink on his torso is revealed. With newly disheveled hair, he kisses you backward onto the bed, crawling over top of you as you settle into the mattress with a pleased hum. 

Having the upper hand allows him to press hot kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as you huff out sighs and caress his milky skin with buzzing fingertips. Nothing about his movements is rushed, each press of his lips intentional enough to believe he'd had them planned for years.

Eddie didn’t know your body yet, not in the way he’d like to. But he was reading it in real-time. Cataloging every writhe and hitch of your breath so he knew where to return. The obsessive part of his brain often gets on his nerves, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful he wants to see every move and sound you can make. There’s an artistry to it, a musicality. 

An inkling of panic arises when he begins to suckle on the side of your neck as you offer it. Not because he’s being rough, but because it’s overwhelming enough to want to crawl out of your skin. A soft whimper rises up your throat as your hands find his flexed biceps, digging in. You’re unsure of whether to pull him closer or push him away. 

Eddie rises from your neck on his own accord, running a finger over the spot. “You like it when I kiss you here, huh?” There’s a slow, honeyed quality to his voice. 

When you offer a helpless nod, he leans back down again, and you shudder as his mouth laves over the same sensitive area a little ways beneath your ear. Exasperated, you blindly paw for the waistband of his jeans, fingers shaky as you fiddle with his belt buckle.

Feeling your struggle, Eddie moves to press a final kiss to your throat before pulling away from your neck. 

“Stupid thing,” you pant, pouting up at him for help. 

Chuckling, Eddie reaches down with one hand to undo it with ease. Then, watches with blown pupils as you hurry to undo the button and zipper. He slips off the bed as smoothly as he can to remove his pants, black boxers tented and straining. A spark of heat surges through you as you press your thighs together at the sight. 

No sooner is he crawling back to help you out of your clothes. The lacy underwear set you’re wearing beneath is a pretty shade of baby blue, and Eddie can’t help but palm himself. 

“Jesus,” he sounds awed and devastated at the same time. “You’re so gorgeous...” 

Before he’s even had time to process, you take off your bra, baring your chest for him to see. Your nipples pebble with the new exposure and all of two seconds pass before he’s surging forward, sending you tumbling back to the mattress in a breath of startled laughter he swallows down like a lifeline. 

You gasp into his mouth, back arching, as he cups one of your breasts, circling and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You’re barely kissing him back anymore, but he continues licking into your mouth as your lips part around shallow exhales. 

That’s when the phone begins to ring. Eddie sits back on his haunches despite your attempt to stop him. 

“Might be important.” His voice is rough. 

“They can leave a message.” 

He smirks, dragging a hand through his hair. “You sure?”

Lifting your leg, you run a careful foot over the swell of his boxers. He twitches at the contact. 

“You’re all I care about,” you murmur. “Need you, E.” There’s a desperate edge to your voice that draws him right back in.

“You’ve got me.” He runs a lone finger down the front of your panties. “Can I take these off?” You’re only half listening to his words, nodding to whatever. “Lift up for me.” The muscles of your thighs tremble as you do. 

Tossing your panties aside, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your belly button. Then another one just beneath it. A surprised sound rises up your throat when he gently spreads you open to kiss that swollen, sensitive part of you that’s pulsing with need.  

“Oh, gosh—” you stutter out, hands threading into his hair.

“Need me right here?” His voice is laced with a smile, and you can’t help a breathy laugh. Prideful warmth ignites in his chest. “Or do you need me somewhere else?” He trails playful, ticklish nips along your inner thighs, making you squirm. 

“Eddie, please…” 

He’s gracious enough to begin rubbing your clit in precise, measured circles, intently studying the pretty scrunch of your face.

“Firmer,” you instruct breathily, “—just like that, just like that.” Your legs spread wider instinctively, arching when he collects your slick with a slow, heavy finger. 

You’re already so on edge from his previous attention that it only takes a few moments before you ascend into bliss, muscles growing taut as your mouth falls agape. The strong, rhythmic pulses serve as your only touchpoint to reality along with Eddie’s tender caress at your slick, fluttering entrance. One he didn’t even have the chance to breach. 

“Look at you…” he says, voice thick. “Made it easy for me.” He laughs a little, more turned on than anything. 

“It’s not funny,” you halfheartedly assert, cheeks prickling. 

“No,” Eddie agrees. “Just super-duper hot.” 

As he raises up, you realize his other hand is tucked into his boxers, lazily stroking himself. A second wave of desire builds within you, overlapping the remnants of the first and any sense of embarrassment that had begun to kindle. It’s spurred by the deep flush of his cheeks, the way his eyes are soaking you in like he’s just witnessed the most beautiful unraveling. 

Under your hazy, watchful gaze, he scrambles off the bed. Without warning, he shoves his boxers down, kicking them from around his ankles. His arousal impressively springs up towards his stomach. You bite your lip at the rosy, leaking tip, the gorgeous vein snaking prominently along the underside. 

Eddie peeks over at you with a dazed quirk of his lips before retrieving his wallet from his jacket. He pulls out a square foil packet and promptly rips it open with his teeth. 

Upon crawling back into the bed, he isn’t expecting you to take his cock in a loose hold, stroking upwards from the curly hair at the base to circle your thumb around the tip. There’s a pleasant tug low in his gut as he kicks up in your palm. 

“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft, nearly a plea. You let your hand glide back down, this time venturing lower to cradle the soft weight hanging beneath. He nearly buckles forward. “What're you doing to me?” he rasps. 

“Nothing,” you murmur innocently, wetting your hand and giving him a few more easy strokes, enjoying the warm, veiny feel of him before withdrawing your touch. 

He curses under his breath as he rolls the condom down, his gaze never leaving you as you reposition yourself to take him. 

“Eager beaver,” you lilt as he crowds over you. 

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I am.” 

He lines up at your entrance, tip catching as he collects your slick with a wavering breath.  

You open your legs even wider. “Want you,” you murmur, breathy and sweet. 

The expression on his face is like something from a painting, raw and rapturous as he eases into your encompassing warmth. He takes it slow, giving you time to relax around him as you breathe through the dull ache of welcoming him in. A low, guttural sound escapes him once he’s buried all the way. 

Your chests brush. Tears prick in your eyes at the closeness, the feeling of being filled so completely. 

“You’re unreal,” he murmurs, lips clumsy against your chin. “Like I made you up in my head.” 

He begins moving, slowly drawing back only to push back in. A steady rhythm finds him as your mouth falls open, legs hooking around his thighs. The muscles of his back ripple with his effort, and you chart every tense line with your fingertips. 

With a low groan, he makes a minor adjustment to better reach that spongy spot within you. You arch into him with a whimper, breath catching in your throat. 

“There she is,” he whispers, reaching between your bodies to rub firm, steady circles against your clit. 

“Oh, god…” It sounds like you’re in pain even though you’re the furthest thing from it. When you close your eyes, tears stream down your face in twin streaks, surprising both of you. Eddie tenderly wipes them away, gaze soft. 

“You’re okay,” he promises. “It’s just me, angel.”

Except, Eddie isn't just anything. You’ve never felt so close to someone, so in tune, and somehow, it’s Eddie—sweet, goofy, wild-haired Eddie—who knew exactly what you needed. He picks up the pace as you arch and writhe beneath him, body yielding without question.

“You feel so good,” you whimper, clenching around him. 

His groan reverberates against your neck as his hips jerk sloppily, “Can’t say stuff like that…” Those words only make you tighten around him again.

The dazed way he mouths at your shoulder lets you know he’s clinging onto composure. You’re too warm, too everything—snug, and soft, and beautiful. He’s not ready for this feeling to end. This heady, binding haze of pleasure.  

“Eddie,” you breathe softly. “Wanna ride you…” 

Your plea nearly finishes him off. “Yeah?” he croaks.

You nod, whimpering. He barely withstands the feeling of slipping from within you. Shifting onto his back allows him a moment of reprieve, but he nearly loses himself when you straddle him, sinking back down with a circle of your hips. 

You brace your hands on his ribcage, steadily rocking on top of him as your head tips back. Sweat glistens in the divot of his sternum as he attempts to move in time with you. When you speed up, he closes his eyes to calm himself down. 

“Hey…where’d you go?” You croon, grazing your nails from his chest to his quivering stomach, relishing the feeling of his warm, dewy skin beneath your fingertips.

The wrecked way he forces his eyes back open almost makes you fall apart. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as a greater sense of urgency awakens between you. It’s in the way you speed up, both eager, desperate, chasing. He memorizes the way your body moves over top of his, the bouncy sway of your chest. 

“You look so pretty taking me like this,” he shudders. “My pretty girl.” 

“Eddie…” you coo, high and breathy. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he chokes out. “Wanna feel you come around me so bad.” He’s babbling now, “Shit, I’m not gonna last. I can’t take it anymore, angel...I can’t—” 

The earnest crack of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge, vision spotting. Pleasure radiates throughout every fiber of your being as your walls contract around him. He stills your hips with a firm hold, bucking upwards and coming undone in surging waves. You slide your hands over his abdomen to feel him flex with each strong jolt that wracks him. 

As your body begins to relax, you blink down at him, lips parted as you catch your breath. Eddie throws an arm over his face as he sucks in air, neck and chest flushed pink. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. 

Both of you shudder as you ease off him. The pleasant ache of loss pulses between your legs as you partially lay down on top of him, hooking a leg over his waist. He traces along your thigh in light, soothing passes. You can feel his chest rising and falling. 

“You okay?” he eventually murmurs.

You nod, kissing his shoulder. “You?”

“I think so,” he chuckles weakly. 

●・○・●・○・●

The afterglow brings a quiet stillness to the air. Clean and beneath the sheets, you study Eddie’s long lashes, his nose, his plush lips. He eventually cracks a self-conscious smile.  

“What?” he questions. You shake your head because you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look like he believes you. “C’mon...” 

So, you think of something, a small truth you’re willing to give him, “I just really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

He hums, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “What was your favorite part?” 

“Probably the food at Stillwater,” you say, though your fingertips are tracing along his jaw, then down his neck, trailing to his waistline to lightly brush between his hip bones as he squirms. “Best I’ve ever had,” you lilt. 

Eddie breaks into a flustered laugh, leaning over to sleepily kiss the coy smile from your lips. 

“But really, though,” you say afterward. “Thanks for tonight. Never met a guy quite like you.” 

Eddie realizes then that he’d better get a head start on counting his lucky stars. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.

NEXT PART | PART ONE

MORE

[rafecameronssl4t]

73 Questions with Vogue || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: just you participating in 73 Questions with Vogue and it goes viral!!!

Warnings: fluff!!!

Word count: 1,935

A/n: It's been so long since I've written a Drew fic!!!!!!! Also I got inspired by my previous acc's fic so if it seems familiar to some of you who followed me from there, don't come at me, I loved the idea too much lol. CAN SOMEONE PLS SEND ME REQUESTS FOR DREW FICS???

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Hello!" You greet the interviewer with a bright smile, swinging open the door to reveal him and his camera. "Hi, Y/n! Mind if we come in and ask you 73 questions?" he asks, his tone friendly and warm. "Yeah, of course! Come on in," you say, stepping aside and holding the door wide open, gesturing for them to enter as the camera pans through the foyer of your house. The space is beautifully designed, with soft lighting that gives it a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

"Wow, what a gorgeous house you have," the interviewer remarks, his voice filled with genuine awe as his eyes take in the sophisticated yet comfortable décor. "Thank you!" you respond, the compliment warming you as you flash a radiant smile. "Is this your favourite house?" The interviewer asks, already settling into the rhythm of the questions as you lead them down the hallway and into the open-plan living area.

"Yes, it definitely is. It's in my home city, and Charleston means so much to me, just like this house does," you say, your eyes lighting up as you gesture around. The view of the beach through the large windows makes the space feel even more special. "I love the view," the interviewer comments, looking out at the sunset that bathes the room in warm golden light. "The sunset looks amazing from here."

"It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?" you say with a soft chuckle. "I love spending time in this room specifically. It feels like a little sanctuary." You both share a laugh, enjoying the peaceful moment. "What's your morning routine like?" The interviewer asks as the camera follows you through the coastal-themed living room toward the kitchen. You pause for a moment, thinking about your answer.

"I haven't had much of a routine the past few months because of work, but currently, I wake up to a strong cup of coffee and a walk through downtown," you share with a soft smile. "It’s become a little ritual to clear my mind before everything gets too busy." As you stroll through the warm, inviting spaces of your home, the camera captures the personal touches that reflect your personality—a mix of elegance and laid-back comfort.

A question about your career comes next, and you happily share some behind-the-scenes anecdotes from your latest film. "This," you begin, the affection in your tone unmistakable, "is a magnet Sydney gave me when we wrapped filming Immaculate earlier this year." You glance at the picture, a grin spreading across your face. "It’s a photo of the two of us in our nun costumes... let’s just say, not doing very nun-like things." You laugh, the absurdity of the memory still fresh, and hold the magnet up for the camera to focus.

The image shows the two of you mid-laughter, each holding a cigarette with exaggerated defiance, your habits slightly askew, as though caught mid-rebellion. "What's the best compliment you've received?" the interviewer asks, a hint of curiosity in their voice. You pause, your expression thoughtful. "Oh, that's a tough one," you say, your lips curling into a playful smile.

"I think the best compliment I’ve ever gotten was when someone said, 'You're like Meryl Streep… but, you know, with fewer Oscars.’" You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "It was the kind of backhanded compliment that made me laugh for days." The interviewer laughs along with you. "That’s a good one," he says, clearly entertained. As you make your way towards the outside deck, the interviewer continues with another question. "Texting, calling, or FaceTiming?"

You grin as you lean casually against the railing, looking out at the beach below. "Oh, definitely FaceTiming," you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I’m terrible at replying to text messages. I’d much rather see people's live reactions, y’know?" A more personal question comes next, and you smile thoughtfully as the interviewer asks, “How do you handle the pressures of fame?”

You nod, taking a moment before responding. "I lean on my family and friends—they keep me grounded. And I remind myself that pressure is a privilege. It means people care about what I do, and that means a lot." Your voice softens as you speak, the sincerity of your words clear as you step into your home office, showcasing the awards and accolades lining the shelves. The conversation turns to your personal life, and a warm, affectionate smile spreads across your face.

"Congratulations on reaching your two-year anniversary with Drew!" The interviewer says with a grin, and you beam in response. "Thank you!" you reply, your eyes sparkling as you think of him. "Drew is incredible. He’s my biggest supporter, my partner in everything, and honestly, just my favourite person. It’s been such a special journey since starting my career, and I’m so grateful to have him by my side."

"What's the key to a successful relationship?" He asks. You pause as you walk through the hallway, your gaze softening as you think. "I think it’s communication and a lot of patience. No relationship is perfect, but being able to talk things through and genuinely listen to each other makes all the difference." You smile, adding, "Oh, and laughter—if you can laugh together, you can get through just about anything."

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupts the moment, and a familiar voice rings out, instantly making your face light up. "Oh, there’s Drew right now!" you say, smiling brightly as you move toward the foyer. The camera follows you, capturing the scene as Drew enters, with Nellie, your cocker spaniel, bounding beside him. "Hey, baby," He greets you as he slips off his sunglasses, pulling you close for a tender kiss

When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he spots the camera. "Oh, 73 Questions with Vogue?" he asks, a playful grin tugging at his lips. You giggle, nodding your head. "I forgot you were doing that today," he chuckles. “Go ahead, continue your interview," he adds with a fond look before walking off with Nellie. As the camera returns to you, you make your way toward the stairs, glancing over your shoulder to find Drew already on the floor, happily playing with Nellie.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, captured by the camera momentarily fixated on the fleeting connection. "What's something people don’t know about you?" the interviewer asks, pulling you back into the conversation. You pause, thinking for a second. "I’m actually allergic to most flowers," you reveal with a sheepish laugh. "Really? I wouldn’t have known," the interviewer responds, clearly surprised. "Oh, absolutely! When we film Outer Banks, they have to shoot around the flowers, or I'd be a sneezing mess," you confess, casually walking backward while maintaining a steady gaze with the camera.

The tour continues through luxurious walk-in closet, filled with designer attire. “What’s your pet peeve?” You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, definitely when people chew loudly. It’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. Chase is notorious for doing it on purpose, so I avoid him during my lunch breaks," you add, giggling at the memory. "Where was the best vacation you’ve been taken to?" the interviewer inquires as you step into your shared bedroom with Drew, the ocean stretching out just outside the windows.

"I think I’d have to say Vienna with Drew for my birthday," you say, smiling over your shoulder as you look out at the view. “A song you replay often?” "Hm, I think Charlie, Last Name Wilson," you say with a grin, rifling through the records. "It never gets old, and it’s super catchy." You smile as you pick it out. "Most of you guys would know that this song is also Drew and Austin’s favourite, so we always play it on set," you chuckle. "Does the rest of the Outer Banks cast like it too?" the interviewer asks, laughing along. "They don’t have much choice," you joke with a grin.

"Is there anything from any set that you've taken home with you?" The interviewer asks eagerly. “Oh, I love this question!" you exclaim, opening a drawer to reveal a variety of souvenirs. "This is the bag my character 'Whiskey' from Glass Onion owned," you say, showing off the brown frill bag. "And here’s a pack of Italian cigarettes from Immaculate, they’re just props, by the way," you add with a wink.

You pull out a cowboy hat. "This one’s from Tom on the set of Billy the Kid," you explain. "And this," you say with a smile, holding up a ring on a necklace. "This is Rafe's ring, the one he gave my character." "What a beautiful photo of the two of you," the interviewer notes, pointing to the large black-and-white photo of you and Drew at a Vogue photoshoot above your bed.

"It is! That day was actually so special for us. We both got the call saying we’d been cast in our respective roles that we’d been auditioning for," you explain, your face lighting up with nostalgia. The interviewer then asks about Drew’s upcoming movie. "Speaking of which, Drew’s film Queer is coming out very soon. Are you excited to watch it on the big screen?" "Yes, of course!" you say, your voice full of pride.

"I was so incredibly proud of him when he got the role. He was definitely excited too, especially since it’s, you know, the Luca Guadagnino." You chuckle. "I got the privilege to actually be on set for a bit, and it was amazing. Plus, I got to catch up with Daniel," you mention. "It was really nice to see him again." You smile, the pride evident in your expression as you talk about Drew's accomplishments.

The conversation is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and both you and the interviewer turn your attention toward it. Drew’s head peeks around the corner, his grin lighting up the frame as the camera zooms in on him. "I made some iced teas—yours is half and half," he says casually, stepping into the room with a tray holding two glasses. You can’t help but beam as he hands you your drink. "Aww, thanks, babe," you say gratefully, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment as you take the glass.

Drew hands the other glass to the interviewer, who looks pleasantly surprised. "Wow, thank you, Drew!" he says with a wide smile. "Of course," Drew replies warmly before glancing at you. "Let me know if you need anything else," he says, shooting you a quick wink before stepping out of the room. The camera lingers on him for a beat as he walks away, capturing his effortless charm.

You take a sip of the iced tea, the cool, refreshing taste spreading through you as you let out a content sigh. "Is this something you drink often?" the interviewer asks, clearly curious. You nod enthusiastically. "Oh, absolutely. I like mine half and half, and I drink it like 24/7," you say with a chuckle, the glass still in your hand. The interviewer grins before asking a more personal question. "I can tell Drew is very thoughtful. What’s your favourite trait of his?"

You laugh softly, caught off guard by the difficult question. "You can’t make me choose—I love everything about him!" you say with a playful grin, your tone light but sincere. The interviewer chuckles along with you, clearly charmed by your response. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But if you had to pick just one thing that comes to mind?"

You pause for a moment, your expression softening as you think. "Hmmm," you hum, swirling your iced tea absentmindedly. "I love the little things he does," you begin, your voice warm with affection. "Like how he always remembers my coffee order or when he leaves me little notes when I’m on set. It’s those small, thoughtful moments that really mean the most to me."

The camera captures your tender smile, and the interviewer smiles himself, visibly touched by your response. "That’s so sweet," he says, his tone genuine. "It really is," you smile, a soft, almost bashful grin spreading across your face. "He’s the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for," you say, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity.

The interviewer watches you with an amused smile, clearly endeared by the dreamy, almost schoolgirl-like look on your face as you think about Drew.

~

The Vogue 73 Questions interview quickly becomes an internet sensation, captivating fans. It was everywhere. Clips of your candid answers and sweet, unscripted moments—especially the one where Drew casually walked in with iced tea—became the ultimate proof of why you were Hollywood’s darling. Within hours of its release, the hashtag #73QuestionsWithY/n trends worldwide.

The comments section was flooded with fans losing their minds over the glimpse into your life. "Can we talk about how Drew KNOWS her iced tea order by heart? If this isn’t relationship goals, I don’t know what is." "Y/n casually being gorgeous, funny, and real in her Charleston dream home? I’m in love." "The way Drew looked at her when he walked in… I CAN’T. He’s so whipped, and I’m here for it."

Memes circulate, celebrating your witty remarks and playful demeanor, while your thoughtful insights and open vulnerability spark heartfelt discussions. The part where Drew sneaks into the interview with iced tea becomes a fan-favourite, with many dubbing it "the cutest boyfriend moment of the year."

“I love how real she is,” one fan tweeted, accompanied by screenshots of your answer about Drew’s little notes and coffee orders. Another post with a screenshot of you laughing at Drew’s confused “Oh, Vogue’s here” reaction read, “You can just tell they’re best friends. I want a love like this.”

The media couldn’t get enough, either. Everyone from gossip sites to prestigious magazines weighed in on how you’d managed to blend the glamour of your career with the warmth of your personality. The buzz reignites interest in your past projects and elevates anticipation for your upcoming ones. Your social media following soars as fans, old and new, praise your ability to remain grounded despite your success.

Meanwhile, Drew’s small but sweet cameo sparks renewed admiration for your relationship, with countless threads and videos dedicated to celebrating your bond. “Y/n and Drew are proof that true love exists,” one viral tweet declares, garnering thousands of likes and retweets. Another fan edits together a montage of your cutest moments from the interview, set to a romantic song, which quickly racks up millions of views.

Drew couldn’t stop teasing you about how viral the iced tea moment had become. “You’re lucky I didn’t walk in shirtless,” he joked one night as you scrolled through TikTok, finding yet another edit of you two. “Please,” you said, giggling, your hand affectionately stroking Nellie, “half the internet would’ve fainted.” “Half?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I think you’re underestimating me, babe.”

[mickyschumacher]

[BREAKFAST IN BED!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The season was over. Finally.

Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.

Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.

And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.

Was that too much to ask for?

It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.

Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.

But that was life. And that was then.

Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.

Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.

His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.

Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.

And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.

You were luckier than you could ever imagine.

"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.

You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.

"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.

He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.

He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.

Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.

"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."

You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.

Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."

"I–" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.

"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.

In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.

But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.

"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."

Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.

Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being

Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.

His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.

"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.

"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

You were driving him crazy.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.

Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.

"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.

You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.

Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."

You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.

You were positively going to lose your mind.

His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."

A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.

"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.

He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.

You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.

Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.

You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.

Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.

Oh god.

"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.

Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.

The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.

Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.

It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.

Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.

Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.

"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.

His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.

Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.

"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.

You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."

"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."

You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.

The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.

You cried.

You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.

It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.

Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.

Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.

And it absolutely drove him crazy.

Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.

Oh my god.

Lando had broken you with his tongue.

You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.

Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"

His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.

"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.

You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"

Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.

"Oh."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[wonallofme]

let it out, loser!

tw and tags: boxer!jungwon x fem!reader, smut, no condom, penetration, creampie, squirt, heavy dubcon, no plot just porn, the sex is nasty af, a little of blood (biting lips and fight wounds), allusion to past noncon, insanity from both of them. word count: 1.7k note: hi! i haven't written anything in a long time and just wanted to do something short. this is my first (official) enhypen piece, hope someone here likes it. if you know me from my other blog, you just know the sex i write is not the most sane one. again, this is pure fiction! Please be careful about the tags you wish to block.

credits for the divider: @bernardsbendystraws (link)

The sound of his keys being thrown to the table in your kitchen shouldn’t be that hot. The sound of his bag hitting your floor with fury shouldn’t make your panties get wet. Even more, the sound of his heart beating inside his chest so fast shouldn’t make you excited for what was about to come.

Knowing too well how he, his breath, his steps, his things, sounded when he was angry after a loss, shouldn’t turn you on.

One, two, three, four. You counted the steps he took.

Usually, if he walked around the room, he would be searching for condoms. He didn’t walk that much, so you immediately knew, he would be harder that night.

After all, he needed to let everything out to be himself the next day.

‘’I know you’re awake,’’ he said, making you open your eyes to not pretend anymore.

He didn’t try to be gentle.

His face was a mess, even in the darkness of the night, with the little to almost no light that trespassed your curtains, you could see a faint purple color on his cheek, and a bright fresh red on his lip. Both meant he would leave you hurting too.

You didn’t have to ask what he wanted from you.

You ruffled in your sheets.

You moved them so he could accommodate himself between your legs, and rubbing your eyes from the recent nap you had, you simply let him take your pajama shorts off.

It was better when you didn’t interrupt him.

You don’t hate this version of him. You know that, when the morning comes, he’ll be your nice boyfriend again. He’ll make breakfast and won’t talk at all about the night or his fight. He’ll let you clean his wounds, he’ll give you a silent soft kiss after walking you to class, and then he’ll go to the gym to keep training.

He made it hurt those nights, but he never made it hurt in your daily life.

Jungwon is the kind of boyfriend that makes sure you’re always comfortable while having sex. He leaves soft pecks on your cheek while fingering you, and he asks if you’re okay when he puts it in. He’s so tender, sometimes, you’re the one afraid of hurting him.

So, these times, when he doesn’t ask how you feel, and he just takes, you try to understand him.

A whimper came out of your mouth, totally involuntarily, when you felt his spit touching your entrance.

He was over you, between your legs, forcing them open with his own amplitude, staring at your entrance and how his saliva mixed with your wetness.

For these occasions, that little help was more than enough for you. He almost laughed. A smirk appeared on his mouth, and he let a curse out. Were you happy he was a mess? Was he really that pathetic? Why were you always so excited when he arrived from losing a match?

‘’You’re lucky I’m this kind, crazy bitch.’’

Pressing his tip on your wet clit, he exhaled loudly, looking defeated, before moving it down between your lips, smearing his spit along. He didn’t look at your eyes in this mode. He didn’t dare to look at your face. He concentrated on what he wanted from you, and you tried to find what parts of him were wounded so you could make a list of things you might need.

Ointment, bandages, cold pads, maybe you would have to cook him something nice too. Did you have apples left?

You couldn’t continue thinking when he slid in.

The burning made you leave a hurt sound out. You whimpered again, because of the pain, and hissed when he pulled out.

He didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t kiss your lips to ease it up or apologise in your ear before stopping altogether. You could see his mind thinking of something, and you wanted to suggest him, maybe he could give you more of it? As if reading your mind, he spat on his hand, a long line of drool finding his cock, and some of it spilling on your pussy on the way.

Your legs trembled with the sensation, somehow feeling a rush in your entire body. You wanted it so bad, this side of him, that when he wrapped the back of your thighs to oblige it all the way to your breast, you cried.

Not because of the sudden movement, or because of how challenging the position was, but because you knew he wanted you to feel it all.

And, when he wanted that, you would really feel it all.

‘’Fu-fuck,’’ you moaned when he bullied his way inside again.

Immediately after talking, you bit your lips.

He didn’t like it when you talked. Whether it was to complain or praise him, he didn’t care. He needed you to not talk or make him think or look at your face. He needed you to be, if possible, dead silent to only concentrate on his own thoughts.

Of course, that was almost impossible, so he would press a hand on your mouth if you didn’t behave, and in the worst cases, to mute you, he would press your face down.

Whimpers were acceptable. Broken moans, bearable. But words? No, never.

You wanted to apologize but it wasn’t the right answer, you knew it too well. You know him too well. Or so, you wanted to believe.

He pushed your legs further, slamming inside, pushing the air out of your lungs.

It continued hurting, but you couldn’t care less.

The awareness of him being there, the sound of his breathing, his hisses, the groans, you wanted it all.

A wet echo filled the room with the force he used to fuck you and your wet pussy taking him. Your walls moved to accommodate him, to welcome him with much enthusiasm, just like your hands pulling your legs closer to make it more comfortable for him.

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and just the memory of his cum all inside you made you tighten around him.

Inside your mind, you repeated give it to me, please, because your mouth wasn’t allowed to do it. It felt way too good. The first time, it made you deeply uncomfortable to feel it inside. You felt dirty, disgusting, and you couldn’t believe it had happened. Now, you couldn’t find the words to ask for it again.

You could only hope he lost.

‘’Fuck, why can’t I…? Fuck!’’

His torso raised, his hips aligned at a better angle, and he thrusted harder.

Your teeth were sinking on your lower lip, brows furrowing and eyes closing to not show him how much you were enjoying it. Probably, it was useless to even try to hide it.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso because of the sweat. Yours, his. Fuck, you heard him curse. The lower front wet spot, in no way, was from just sweat.

The spasms were arriving. You felt your abdomen get tighter, and you tried to calculate how much time had passed. It hasn’t been long enough, you concluded. You couldn’t cum, you had to hold it in, for him, because it couldn’t end so fast. For him, that short time was not enough. It couldn’t be enough.

He needed you to hold it. He needed it. He.

You cried. This time, a few tears escaped. You turned your face to the side, and a salty flavor on your tongue distracted you.

You only noticed you bit yourself so hard your lips were bleeding when you felt more of the metallic taste invading you.

Out of the ordinary, he leaned to inspect your face. His hand tactlessly gripped your chin and forced you to face him, and when he saw the drops of blood flooding your delicate lip, under your teeth, he gulped.

‘’You’re such a mess too.’’

His mouth found yours in a second, obliging you to leave your poor lip free. He, first, just grazed them, doubting to do such a soft act with you, before crashing your wound with his.

The kiss, just like the sex, was not delicate at all.

The sting in your lips was not a sensation you were familiar with. His lips were always soft with you, at least until that moment. At much, they would be lustful, making out with you for long periods of time, but never brute.

His fingers stabbed your jaw, and his tongue prodded out.

You couldn’t breathe properly, overwhelmed with his strength, so you opened your lips to inhale some air, an act he took advantage of by barging his tongue into your mouth.

You had no way of using your brain at that moment. His tongue inside your mouth stealing your little air, his entire weight sinking you to the bed, his shoulders maintaining your legs up and against your chest, his cock balls deep inside you. It was all too much. Your head was too dizzy to remember exactly at what point you had your orgasm.

You remember your legs shaking, and an embarrassing loud cry muffled with his mouth against yours.

Also, you remember the broken moan he left out, and his hips reassuming a brutal pace that makes you roll your eyes with the mere memory. His long cock had hit a spot that made you lose yourself, and your pussy, so sensitive with how he had continued using you, had the most intense orgasm you ever had.

The clean gush finished wetting the front of your shirt, splashing his abdomen and making a pod slide down onto the bedsheets. Sadly, he didn’t care that you were trembling and bawling because of it. He plunged back inside, biting your cries and mixing both bloods while trying to find his own orgasm.

He left it out all inside you.

When you felt his warm cum invading you, you passed out.

After that, all is black. You try to move your body, finding it uncomfortable and painful. Still, you turn your head, finding your boyfriend’s naked back beside you. From the way his breath is calm now that he’s sleeping, you deduce he’s back to normal after finding his release.

Your shirt is different, clean, and the bed sheets are blue instead of white, so you know it’s not the same set from the night before.

At the sensation of his cum leaking out of you, you wonder if changing your clothes and sheets was the only thing he did to you while you were unconscious.

[juustokaku]

Another load of Jealousy - Yunho x f!reader

Summary: Yunho isn't about to even entertain the idea of his girlfriend talking to another man. It doesn't matter how many loads of love, care, and cum it takes to make her remember that she is his and he is hers. Genre: smut (mdni!!!) Pairings: bf!Yunho x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT MDNI, mean dom!yunho (kinda sweet after some time), sub!reader, fingering(?), penetration, unprotected sex, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, choking, bulge (lmk if something is missing, I have never done this) A/N: This is the 3rd smut I've ever written in my life... I haven't posted the first two since they were written a couple years ago and were bad, so I hope this is worth posting. The plot isn't anything great because this was mostly for trying to see what it's like to write smut and I didn't want to waste a good plot on this if this turned out bad LOLLL. So please, keep in mind that I've almost never written smut! Word count: 2 300 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If someone asked you if you loved Yunho, you’d answer ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. He was more than just a lover or a boyfriend; he was your worshipper, kissing the ground you walked on. And if someone asked you if you’d ever cheat on him, you’d give a firm ‘no’ and tell the person off. Although you wanted to make it clear to everyone you were Yunho’s girl because you loved him, it wasn’t the only reason to push people away. You’d be in big trouble if he started to consider the possibility of you holding affectionate feelings for anyone else than him. 

“Baby, what are you doing? ~” 

Despite Yunho’s needy tone and presence next to you on the couch, you couldn’t tear your gaze off of your phone. 

“Wait a second, Yuyu,” you murmured. 

He watched as your fingers tap-danced on the small screen, obviously writing a message to someone. Someone who was robbing him of your attention. Your eyes reflected the light coming from the phone screen but Yunho’s eyes shone with something else. He was getting frustrated. 

“Please, I’m lonely,” he whined, his hand creeping up on your thigh, trying to go unnoticed yet wanting desperately for you to pay attention to him. 

Still, you didn’t even glance at him. It was subtle but Yunho noticed how you tried to hide your phone screen, leaning away ever so slightly. 

The longer your attention was on the mysterious person you were talking to, the angrier Yunho became. 

You felt him squeeze your thigh, silently demanding you to finally look at him in the eyes. It was a final warning. Only when his long fingers dug onto your inner thigh, you turned to face him. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Yunho’s icy voice shouldn’t have surprised you – this was nothing new, given his possessive nature. And like always, while it made you nervous, it also caused your pussy to clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but get horny when he looked like he’d devour you any second now. 

“Just work stuff,” you murmured, taking a glance at his hand. No matter how many times his beautiful fingers had been inside you, reaching the deepest, sweetest spots, you just couldn’t get enough. 

“At this hour? That’s bullshit.” 

While Yunho’s eyes were cold, they were undeniably burning with both fury and lust. You knew the look way too well just like he knew your body. 

“I’m friends with him so I feel comfortable texting him even in the evening. It’s just about a work project.” 

“Him?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed. 

You were too nervous to break eye contact with him, but you didn’t need to see to feel his hand hover over your core, so close but so far. Even though he was barely touching you, he was probably able to feel how your wetness seeped through your night shorts. 

“Please, Yunho... Don’t tease me,” you let out a quiet whine, hoping it’d persuade Yunho into touching you. 

Immediately, he pulled you roughly into a kiss. In a normal situation he would have kept you begging for him, but right now his desire and anger towards you were too much to handle for both of you. His lips claimed yours and showed no mercy or signs of going easy on you. You were enthusiastic to kiss him back, but his need to have you was even stronger. 

The way he started nearly biting on your lips would have soon left bruises, if you hadn’t pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily after the intense moment, but Yunho wasted no time in trying to rest. 

“Who is that coworker? A friend you say?” 

You felt your pussy get wetter by his demanding words and you tried your best to give him an answer – one that would satisfy him enough yet encourage him to fuck you senseless. 

“We’re not close, but enough to be considered friends-! Yunho!..” 

He interrupted you with his fingers suddenly under your clothing, circling your clit. 

“What do you need friends for when I’m here? Don’t I give you all you need?” 

You squirmed around at the movements of Yunho’s skillful hands. It was hard not to feel even slightly embarrassed; you didn’t want him to know how aroused his possessiveness made you. 

“Y-You can’t do work projects for me... I need him.” 

Your choice of words pushed the wrong buttons in Yunho, and he took his hand out of your panties. He didn’t care when you whined at the loss of contact, just pure jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“You say you need him? Baby, I’m all you need,” his voice was low and dangerous, “There’s nothing and no-one else.” 

It didn’t take long for him to have dragged you into the bedroom, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a bruising grip. You tried to savor every moment despite knowing there were more to come after this. 

The streetlights outside were the only source of light in your dim bedroom. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but apparently Yunho saw well enough to push you onto the bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have cared anyways if he had pushed you accidentally on the floor. Whenever he got like this, satisfying his need to claim you was the top priority. 

“Strip.” 

You immediately started taking off your nightwear which you had just changed to after shower. Your hair was still damp and smelling like your shampoo. It was definite you’d have to take a shower again after this – preferably with Yunho. 

“You’re too slow,” he scolded. The way he started pulling your shorts and panties off was surprisingly gentle; even though he was mad at you, he was still your mere worshipper and saw you as his goddess. 

Finally, when you saw him properly, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t standing, just on his knees on the bed, but his height was still intimidating. You loved it though. You loved every moment of this, and your pussy throbbed with desire to have him fill you up to the brim. 

His chest was heaving with anticipation, and although seeing it bare always excited you, your eyes were fixated on that cock of his. 

“I-It’s bigger than I remembered...” 

“You’re going to take it nonetheless. You don’t deserve this after how you’ve acted but I need this now,” Yunho stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. 

You felt like a prey, his next meal, as you watched him crawl closer on the bed and lay you down rather harshly. The intense eye contact just added to the arousal you felt leaking out of you. You needed him so bad, and your legs spread open automatically to give him way to your core that was aching for him. 

“You need a damn reminder every week of who you belong to. I don’t know if I want you to stop teasing me like that or not,” Yunho whispered, his right hand finding its way to your neck, “At least I get to fuck you like this.” 

He turned your gaze back up to him by gripping your neck, when you tried to look at his cock. You managed to see how its tip was covered in clear precum. It was as hard as it always was when you had moments like this, if not even harder. You wondered how it had ever managed to fit inside you with the impressive girth and length. 

“Look at me in the eyes. I want you to look at me clearly so you’ll remember my face every time you talk to another man.” 

You didn’t have time to process Yunho’s words. As he pushed his cock inside you, it was impossible to think about anything else than him. Although you were as wet as ever for him, it was still almost hard to take him in. No matter how many times he had made love to or fucked you, no matter how fast and rough or slow and romantic, he stretched you up nicely every time. 

“My girl. My baby,” Yunho muttered more to himself than to you. His hips had started moving some time ago already, but only now you were coming down back to Earth. 

His hand was on your neck like to use it to support himself, but the grip was still somewhat gentle. It tightened every time he thrusted in, and the lack of air just made you lose your mind in the pleasure even more. 

Your walls were slippery and starting to adjust to his size, so he slid inside with ease. It didn’t mean there was no delicious friction left though. 

“Who do you belong to? Him or me?” he growled into your ear. Although the pace of his hips had grown faster, he made sure to push deep inside you, drawing out every moan he could get from you. 

Your attempt to answer was cut off quickly as Yunho’s hands started squeezing your throat. It would have been hard to breathe even if you weren’t breathless already from having him ram your insides. 

“Answer me. A little choking shouldn’t shut you up like this.” 

Again, you tried to tell Yunho that you were only his to love, fuck, and take care of. But he held your throat tighter again, clearly teasing you. It was impossible to win this game, and you loved it that way. 

A mocking smirk spread on Yunho’s lips, “You don’t have to say it. I know you’re mine by the way I’m the only who ever gets to be balls deep inside you.” 

He released your neck and pressed his hand lightly on your lower stomach. It was no secret that your boyfriend’s cock was big, but the way you could see a clear bulge, the way your lower abdomen moved up and down with Yunho’s thrusts, made you clench down on him. 

“F-Fuck... You make it so hard to stay mad at you,” he groaned out. 

You watched his eyebrows furrow as if he was holding back. Finally, you had been able to catch your breath, although it was still difficult due to his relentless thrusts. 

“I love you. I’m yours, Yunho...” 

Your pleasured admission not only softened his heart a bit but made him even more lustful. He knew you were his. If you tried to leave him, he’d find a way to make you stay – even with force if necessary. But hearing you say out loud once again that you were his satisfied him. 

“I know. I know, my pretty girl, and I love you too,” his eyes met yours in a gentle way even. 

A loud moan slipped past your lips as Yunho’s fingers found your clit, finally continuing what he had started on the couch in the living room. Circling, pressing, and pinching on it – he did it all. Your sensitive skin tingled and almost felt like on fire. 

“W-Will you fill me up?” you grasped at the sheets under you, making them all rumpled and look unkempt. They were dirty anyways due to the sweating. 

Yunho moved your hands on his shoulders. There was nothing more that he wanted than to see your nail scrapes on his skin, a mark of who he belonged to. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby. My cum will be leaking out,” he looked at you before turning his eyes to his cock, slightly amused, “I’ll just fuck a new load tomorrow then. You’ll have my babies in no time.” 

His talk about breeding you brought you closer to your release, and he definitely noticed it by the way your pussy squeezed his thick cock. 

“Look at your pussy, how it’s clenching down on me. It likes to be bred, huh?” 

“Yunho, I-I'm close... so close,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders like they were your savior. But you knew nothing could save you from the climax you were reaching quickly. 

Yunho smiled down at you a bit cockily, “Have I made clear who you belong to?” 

“Yes!” you whined, thighs trembling. 

“And who do you belong to, baby?” 

If you weren’t in such a state of mind-blowing pleasure, you could have teased him on purpose and said the name of your coworker. However, now that you were so close to coming, you couldn’t ruin this. 

“You! You, Yunho!..” 

A genuine, sweet smile tugged the corners of his lips slightly upwards. By looking at his furrowed eyebrows, it was clear he was holding back as well, near to orgasm but fighting back for your sake. 

And Yunho knew your body so well, that he recognized your sounds of enjoyment and body language, so that just when you reached the peak, he closed the distance between your lips. Your cries of pure pleasure were muffled by his mouth. 

His body shook and it didn’t take long for him to go over the edge, to let out a few stifled groans. Hot cum spurted out inside you, filling you just like Yunho had promised. 

“So, you’re going to block that man’s number, right?” Yunho mumbled, his head lying down on your chest. He could hear your heart beating rapidly after the intense session but eventually calming down to steady, slow beats. 

You chuckled, caressing his hair slightly damp from the sweat, “I can’t block my coworker’s number.” 

A surprised and disappointed whine fell past your lips as Yunho got up and pulled his now softened cock out of you. He looked down at your pussy, watching with glee how his fresh cum leaked out. There was a lot of it still inside you, but it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was ever enough for him when it came to you. 

“I guess you can take another load then.”