#it's not about what we do it's about WHY we do it
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inkskinned · 2 days ago
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okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.
like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).
but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.
im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.
#what the fuck.#unfortunately by the time i'd switched accounts (from personal to my poetry one)#i couldn't find it :(#this is why u SEND URSELF THE POST. WHICH I KNOW TO DO BUT!!!#i was so mad i just was like “i'm about to tear this commenter in twain” and . lost da post#if u urself are the 29 and got recently flamed by instagram#i love u. come here. write with me. i was about to pick up a sword for u.#i mean a BIGASS sword.#like we all know im a wlw girlie but the way ppl will be like ''id NEVER write sad poetry about a MAN not LOVING me!!!"#..... wowwwww ur so cool. anyway. people often experience emotions regardless of what u consider cringe.#& if ur gonna shame straight/bi women for feeling a certain way. hope u never write about the#weird relationship between u and ur father. or feeling different from ur brother.#or how ur male best friend fucked u over. since it's SO CRINGE. to have ANY feelings caused by a MAN#like be so for real. beloved. nobody is fucking saying this when men do it.#''oh it's cringe to like a woman or feel heartbroken by her.''#controlling women's feelings and actions???? it's more likely than u think.#btw op is nonbinary do NOT be gender essential on this post i'll kill u with my teeth#edit: btw for the person who dm'd me ''when is it misogyny and when is it actually valid''#pretty easy. if a man had done it#would it be cringe? . like if a man sang a sad song about ''she broke my damn heart''?#if he said ''i want to have kids with her'' or something sexually explicit?? like would u even LIKE IT if a male poet had said it?#& if it's like. nah a 35 yr old man being upset about this is cringe too. yeah it's just cringe. that exists. we both know it does.#but .... often i see this ONLY about women. and i can't help but hear like. how back in middle school#we were fed the lie ''girls mature faster.'' ... why do i have to be emotionally regulated? but if a man wrote about the same things?#..... idk . im pretty anti cringe culture to begin with. but this one feels so bad to me . ur still a person past 33.
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royalarchivist · 1 day ago
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Bad: I don’t think people understand the effect QSMP had on some of the streamers in terms of like… The real raw mental impact, so I’m gonna set the stage for you. [...] Imagine that you were given a friend to play Minecraft with — like your best friend — BUT if this person dies, if they die in the game, you never get to talk to them again. Can you imagine what that’s like?
Bad: If you did not live through the QSMP, if you did not live through that, it almost sounds like, crazy. But I don’t think people realize how much of a joyous experience the Eggs were. They were SO awesome! They were literally so awesome to just hang out with and spend time with.
Bad: I’m not saying I regret it. To this day, I loved the experience. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Even knowing how everything went, I would still do it all over again. [...] I would still do it all over again, because — even knowing like, all the trauma and suffering and stuff like that — because it was just… It was just that fun, it was just that fun.
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Earlier today during his stream, Bad shared his experience and thoughts about the Eggs and the significant emotional (and traumatic) impact they had on him and his fellow QSMP members.
This clip a very edited-down version since his commentary was ~13 minutes long, so I highly recommend checking out Bad's VOD if you have the time. (Timestamp: 47:36 - 1:00:14)
[ Full Transcript ↓ ]
———
Bad: To be fair Chat, I really think the QSMP... I don't think anyone really can relate to it, Chat. It's something that's so... I've told people this before, like– but it's hard to understand. Right? Like...
Where was I? Sorry Chat, I'm losing my train of thought. Look, let me explain Chat– here's the dealio, ok? Here's the dealio, and this is what I mean when I say like, it's important to keep this in mind, Chat. Ok? It's important to keep this in mind:
I don’t think people understand the effect that the QSMP had on like, some of the streamers, in terms of like… The real raw mental impact, so I’m gonna set the stage for you. This is the analogy I’ve given to every person who I’ve like, shared this with. Imagine you meet somebody– [He hears a strange noise] What the fudge was that? Did you hear that?
Anyway– Chip! The story I was just relaying to Chat, Chip, was this: I was sharing this story with them, I said–  I was giving them an analogy. 
Imagine Chat, for example, imagine that you were… playing Minecraft, with like– you were given a friend to play Minecraft with, Chat, like your best friend, and [unintelligible] were like, “Hey, you get to play Minecraft with this person, right? BUT if this person dies – they’re currently your best friend, Chip – but if they die in the game, you never get to talk to them again. Ever again.” Can you imagine what that’s like, Chip?
I don’t think a lot of people understand like, what that does, right? I’m not gonna say that like, it creates this situation, Chip, that like, messes with your head, but it– Chip – but it totally, totally does, Chip. It messes with your head! It literally puts you in a position where you’re second-guessing and thinking about everything, Chip! You’re thinking about EVERYTHING Chip! Ok? And that’s the problem, Chip– is you turn into a paranoid monster because of it, Chip! Like, you don’t understand Chip– I was- I was so afraid of every dirt block, I used to carry a shovel with me Chip, and I would specifically right-click dirt blocks that looked suspicious because mines, Chip– mines could not be shoveled! Like, I was crazy, Chip! But here’s the problem, Chip: that craziness is still there. I’m genuinely like–
I remember thinking Chip, that I would one day– I was like, “I’m going to move past–” here, let’s go up here, Chip. I remember thinking one day Chip, I was like, “I’m gonna move past the underground base, one of these days. You know, one of these days, I feel like I’ll be able to grow and achieve the desire to build a base that doesn’t have to be underground.” But I don’t think it’s possible now Chip, because I think… I just don’t know. I feel like the paranoia– there’s still like, residual leftover trauma from that situation, Chip.
But here’s the problem Chip: I don’t think I don’t think– I don’t think people understand it. Like, I just really don’t. But I also don’t blame them Chip, ‘cuz I don’t think it’s possible to fully understand it if you haven’t lived through it. Like, if you did not live through the QSMP… I’m talking about the QSMP, I don’t- I don’t know if that was obvious– if you did not live through that, it almost sounds like, crazy. But I don’t think people realize how much of a joyous experience like, the Eggs were. Right? I don’t think people realize it. Like, they were SO awesome! They were literally so awesome to just hang out with and spend time with, Chip. So, it’s just one of those things that–
[He’s interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder above them]
Did lightning just strike here? Is it thunderstorming out…? But anyway, Chip. That’s the food for thought.
But that’s the problem– Like, every time it rains in Minecraft, I have to like, look at the sky, and I get this weird, like, second--hand vibe because of the trauma. The trauma, Chip! The trauma is real! But that’s the point– I’m not saying I regret it. I, to this day Chip, I loved the experience. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Even knowing how everything went, I would still do it all over again. 
[He falls down] Dangit, don’t come over here Chip, ‘cuz I’m coming back up! Ok.
I would still do it all over again, because — even knowing like, all the trauma and suffering  and stuff like that — because it was just… It was just that fun, Chip, it was just that fun. I really wi– I don’t think it’s ever gonna be possible, Chip, to give people that same energy, like that same experience. You know what I mean, Chip? I don’t think it’s ever gonna be possible again. Like, EVER.
Because… because like, one: I will say on one level Chip, I will say on one level, like– it’s sort of emotionally like… It’s emotionally devastating, and I think to actually go through that– and this is where like, if I ever do end up going to a– see a therapist, if I ever do end up going to see a therapist at any point, I’ll talk it over with them and be like, “Hey, what do you think about this?” Because I genuinely think on one level, like– it’s created this fear of forming attachments because of like, how things can go. You know what I mean? Like, the fear of getting attached to something and then potentially losing it. Like, it’s- it’s a genuine thing. I think people forget about that.
Like, at the end of the day, everything was RP, right? On the server. You know what I mean? Like, everything was RP, Chip. BUT at the same point, even though it was RP Chip, it was still like– there the reality of you were still playing like, with another person, and you were still getting that experience, and it felt like you were genuinely attached to someone and you didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. It was GENUINELY stressful, Chip.
But at the same point, I don’t regret it, and I don’t think it was a bad experience. I’m�� 
Sometimes in life Chip, you go through stuff, and maybe you have a certain amount of like, things that like, can happen, that you’re like, “You know what, maybe this wasn’t a good thing that this happened,” but at the same point, you still aren’t necessarily upset about it, because… it’s like growing as a person, right? Here’s the thing Chip; even bad situations, Chip, can lead to an overall good outcome. Like–
Even if you’re going through something bad Chip, just because a bad thing happens doesn’t mean that only bad things have to come from that. That’s one of the things I tell people all the time, Chip, is that if you go through a bad situation, you can learn from it, and you can use your experience to help others. And you can be that– you can be, at the worst-case scenario, you can be someone for other people who are going through that same experience to lean on when they go through that.I think there’s a certain amount of comfort that comes from that; from knowing no matter how bad your situation is, you’re not the only person who’s experienced it. You know what I mean?
#Badboyhalo#BBH#Bad#QSMP#January 8 2025#Edited#I know folks are going to add their two cents on this subject in the tags / comments / replies (and as always you're welcome to do that)#But for the sake of my sanity please don't be an asshole to any of the CCs / ex-admins / fellow fans / anyone else. Thanks#Most folks here don't need a ''Don't be a dumbass'' reminder but I had to block someone for that earlier and it was a bit disappointing#This is going to be a Tumblr exclusive clip because I don't trust Twitter to have common sense or common decency about this topic#Tumblr exclusive#Anyways business aside – that black line on the side is just part of Bad's stream btw. He just Has That#Took too long for this to render otherwise I'd edit it out because it's annoying#I'm just realizing this screenshot doesn't even have Dapper OTL but it's the best one I have so I gotta work with what I got#Honestly; I still miss QSMP dearly... I love the core intent of the project and the multicultural exchange#I love all the language barriers that were broken and I loved all the stories that were told and watching beautiful friendships bloom#But I am still so angry and disappointed about how things ended and all the poor communication and the admin situation as a whole#It's a complicated feeling#I agree with pretty much everything Bad says here#It's ironic that he uses that analogy because I've said almost the exact same thing when explaining why losing any Egg was so devastating#We weren't just mourning for the characters. We were mourning for the admins too#I'll never forget that last stream with Tazercraft and Richas; and Pac ending stream in tears#I wish they'd done away with the Egg life system. I wish they'd done a lot of things differently#If the project ever does come back in some shape or form I hope they are more transparent about things and have better communication#I dunno how I'd feel personally. They would have to do a lot of work regaining people's trust#And frankly I don't think they'll ever regain that trust from a large portion of the community#I remember near the start of QSMP I saw a comment from a fan that simply said ''QSMP; please don't leave me feeling bitter''#I think about that comment a lot
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bixels · 3 days ago
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As cameras becomes more normalized (Sarah Bernhardt encouraging it, grifters on the rise, young artists using it), I wanna express how I will never turn to it because it fundamentally bores me to my core. There is no reason for me to want to use cameras because I will never want to give up my autonomy in creating art. I never want to become reliant on an inhuman object for expression, least of all if that object is created and controlled by manufacturing companies. I paint not because I want a painting but because I love the process of painting. So even in a future where everyone’s accepted it, I’m never gonna sway on this.
if i have to explain to you that using a camera to take a picture is not the same as using generative ai to generate an image then you are a fucking moron.
#ask me#anon#no more patience for this#i've heard this for the past 2 years#“an object created and controlled by companies” anon the company cannot barge into your home and take your camera away#or randomly change how it works on a whim. you OWN the camera that's the whole POINT#the entire point of a camera is that i can control it and my body to produce art. photography is one of the most PHYSICAL forms of artmakin#you have to communicate with your space and subjects and be conscious of your position in a physical world.#that's what makes a camera a tool. generative ai (if used wholesale) is not a tool because it's not an implement that helps you#do a task. it just does the task for you. you wouldn't call a microwave a “tool”#but most importantly a camera captures a REPRESENTATION of reality. it captures a specific irreproducible moment and all its data#read Roland Barthes: Studium & Punctum#generative ai creates an algorithmic IMITATION of reality. it isn't truth. it's the average of truths.#while conceptually that's interesting (if we wanna get into media theory) but that alone should tell you why a camera and ai aren't the sam#ai is incomparable to all previous mediums of art because no medium has ever solely relied on generative automation for its creation#no medium of art has also been so thoroughly constructed to be merged into online digital surveillance capitalism#so reliant on the collection and commodification of personal information for production#if you think using a camera is “automation” you have worms in your brain and you need to see a doctor#if you continue to deny that ai is an apparatus of tech capitalism and is being weaponized against you the consumer you're delusional#the fact that SO many tumblr lefists are ready to defend ai while talking about smashing the surveillance state is baffling to me#and their defense is always “well i don't engage in systems that would make me vulnerable to ai so if you own an apple phone that's on you”#you aren't a communist you're just self-centered
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alinedreams · 2 days ago
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Oh, so Elon Musk wants to screw hard-working immigrants over simply to take all of their money and innovative ideas for himself, I get it now!
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tobiasdrake · 1 day ago
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My favorite detail about Jurassic Park is that it has a baked-in justification for any and all retcons it might need to make due to paleontology advancing forwards.
Because there is not a single dinosaur that has ever appeared in Jurassic Park.
Not one. Not in the books. Not in the movies. Not ever.
"Now what John Hammond and InGen did at Jurassic Park was to create genetically engineered theme park monsters." ~Alan Grant
Grant says that in a moment of cynicism. It's part of his arc for the film. But it's not inaccurate. What Jurassic Park has, what it's always had since the very first novel, are "Mostly Dinosaurs".
"And since the DNA is so old, it's full of holes! Now, that's where our geneticists take over!" ~Mr. DNA
It's impossible to recover a fully intact gene sequence from an ancient amber mosquito. Cloning a pure dinosaur would have been completely impossible, and so the park filled in the gene sequence with whatever works. Frog. Lizard. Bird. Whatever they need to get the result they are trying to get.
Every single dinosaur is a chimeric beast made up of mostly dinosaur and a bunch of other stuff that some scientists thought would achieve the appropriate dinosaur-like result.
"Nothing in Jurassic World is natural! We have always filled gaps in the genome with the DNA of other animals. And if the genetic code was pure, many of them would look quite different." ~Dr. Henry Wu
Which, from a writing perspective, is fucking genius. Because now you have a preset excuse for each and every plot hole your movie has.
Like. Why don't the raptors have feathers? Because of the chimera DNA.
Why do dilophosaurs spit venom? Because of the chimera DNA.
Why do T-Rexes have movement based vision? Oh, they don't. But Rexy does. Because of her chimera DNA.
Why is the Spinosaurus so fucking big? Because of the chimera DNA.
Why are the velociraptors mislabeled? Because Hammond's a dipshit.
Like. I've always marveled at the way Jurassic Park started out by giving itself a blanket excuse to be wrong about every single thing it ever said about the central attraction of its franchise. It's honestly beautiful, and allows the series a degree of immortality well into the era where we know better about its animals.
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elbiotipo · 1 day ago
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I was a kid (granted a very curious one) when George W. Bush was president and I very clearly remember how everyone thought he was a menace to world peace, a fanatic conservative who started a period of war and ignorance. What do you think Green Day was ranting against in American Idiot. Even down here in Argentina we knew what a menace he was, we knew he invaded Afghanistan and Iraq, everyone knew he did it for the oil and to control the Middle East. While watching the news with my family we wondered, and this wasn't crazy thoughts but the logical thinking after watching a madman invade two countries in the span of mere years, if Venezuela and so the whole of South America was next.
Then when Obama came everyone forgot about it (even many people here) and yankees were all like "support the troops" without even thinking why there any troops to support in Iraq in the first place. Trump came, had a mediocre presidency, and then people were like oh Bush was better, unironically. The man who has the blood of millions of people on his hands, who invaded and ruined two countries that are still under war and chaos. It's insane.
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pucksandpower · 3 days ago
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Nothing to Prove
Charles Leclerc x Vettel!Reader
Summary: it’s a tale as old as time — every female sports fan has been told to “prove” her fandom at least once in her life — but the man quizzing you quickly learns the error of his ways
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The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the bustling paddock, your destination the familiar red and white of the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with pre-race excitement, mechanics and team personnel darting about like worker bees in a particularly colorful hive.
You’re so focused on navigating the crowd that you almost don’t notice the young man who steps directly into your path, phone held aloft. His grin is a touch too smug for comfort.
“Excuse me, miss,” he says, voice dripping with false politeness. “Mind if I ask you a few questions for my TikTok?”
You hesitate, torn between ingrained courtesy and a gnawing sense of unease. “I’m actually in a bit of a hurry-”
“It’ll only take a minute,” he insists, already hitting record. “So, tell me, what’s your favorite thing about Formula 1?”
The question seems innocent enough, but there’s something in his tone that sets your teeth on edge. Still, you decide to play along for now. “Well, I love the strategy, the technology, the way the whole sport pushes the boundaries of what’s possible-”
He cuts you off with a laugh. “Come on, be honest. It’s the hot drivers, right? That’s why most girls watch.”
You blink, momentarily stunned by his blatant misogyny. “Excuse me?”
“No judgment!” He says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it, they’re all rich and fit. But let’s see how much you really know. Who won the 1976 World Championship?”
You open your mouth to answer, but he barrels on.
“What’s the difference between understeer and oversteer? How many points do you get for fastest lap? Come on, if you’re a real fan, this should be easy!”
Your initial discomfort has morphed into full-blown anger. “Look, I don’t have to prove anything to you. My knowledge of the sport isn’t-”
“Ah, so you can’t answer,” he says, triumphant. “Just as I thought. Another pretty face here for the-”
“Is there a problem here?”
The smooth voice comes from just behind you, followed by the warmth of a familiar body pressing against your back. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively lean into the embrace.
The TikToker’s eyes go wide as saucers as he takes in the newcomer. “You’re ... you’re ...”
“Charles Leclerc,” your boyfriend finishes for him, voice deceptively mild. “And you are ...”
The young man sputters, clearly thrown off his game. “I’m ... I mean... I was just asking your girl here some questions about F1.”
Charles’ arms tighten fractionally around you. “Is that so? Because from where I was standing, it sounded more like an interrogation.”
You turn your head slightly, meeting Charles’ gaze. His green eyes are blazing with a protective fury that makes your heart skip a beat.
“It’s fine,” you murmur. “He was just leaving.”
Charles raises an eyebrow at the TikToker, who’s looking increasingly desperate to be anywhere else. “You heard the lady.”
But the young man, perhaps realizing his video is about to become internet gold, rallies. “Wait! I mean, no offense, but how do we know she’s not just with you for the fame? Can she even name your teammate?”
You feel Charles tense behind you, but before he can speak, you’ve had enough. You step out of his embrace, squaring up to the TikToker.
“Carlos Sainz Jr.,” you say, voice hard. “Currently P4 in the championship. And since you’re so keen on quizzing people, James Hunt won in ‘76, understeer is when the front of the car doesn’t turn enough while oversteer is when the rear steps out too much, and you get one point for fastest lap if you finish in the top ten. Any other burning questions?”
The TikToker gapes at you, clearly unprepared for this turn of events. Charles, for his part, looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“I ... but ...” the young man stammers.
You press on, building up a head of steam. “Oh, and fun fact — my brother has four World Championships. But I’m sure you knew that, being such an expert and all.”
The TikToker’s face drains of color as realization dawns. “Your brother? You’re Sebastian Vettel’s sister?”
Charles can’t contain his amusement any longer. He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I tried to warn you. You’ve awakened the beast.”
You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re not helping.”
He holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Far be it from me to interfere with your righteous fury. Please, continue.”
The TikToker looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “I ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-”
“That women can be genuine fans?” You interrupt. “That we might actually understand and love the sport for its own sake? Or just that you shouldn’t make assumptions about people based on their gender?”
He winces. “All of the above?”
Charles steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch is gentle, but there’s steel in his voice when he speaks. “I think it’s time for you to go. And delete that video while you’re at it.”
The young man nods frantically, fumbling with his phone. In his haste to retreat, he trips over his own feet, sprawling ungracefully on the ground. Charles moves to help him up, ever the gentleman, but you put a restraining hand on his arm.
“Let him sort himself out,” you mutter. “A little humiliation might do him some good.”
Charles chuckles, pulling you close. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
As the TikToker scrambles away, face burning with embarrassment, you allow yourself to relax into Charles’ embrace. The adrenaline of the confrontation leaves you feeling a bit shaky.
“You okay?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nod, letting out a long breath. “Yeah. Just ... frustrated. Why do people still think like that?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. It’s not fair, the assumptions people make.”
“It’s not just about me,” you say, turning to face him fully. “It’s about all the female fans out there who get treated like this. Who get quizzed and belittled and have their passion questioned at every turn.”
Charles nods, his expression serious. “You’re right. It’s a bigger problem than just one idiot with a TikTok account.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it will ever change,” you admit, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.
Charles cups your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. “It will,” he says with conviction. “Because of people like you who stand up and call it out. Who refuse to let ignorance go unchallenged.”
You lean into his touch, allowing yourself a small smile. “When did you get so wise?”
He grins, some of his usual playfulness returning. “I have my moments. Don’t tell anyone though, it’ll ruin my reputation.”
You laugh, the tension finally starting to dissipate. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Charles leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmurs. “The way you handled that ... it was impressive.”
“Yeah?” You ask, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.
“Absolutely,” he says firmly. “You were brilliant. Fierce. Passionate.” His voice drops lower, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Incredibly sexy.”
You swat his arm playfully. “Behave yourself, Leclerc. We’re in public.”
He affects an innocent expression that doesn’t fool you for a second. “I’m always on my best behavior.”
You snort. “That’s what worries me.”
Charles laughs, the sound bright and carefree. It never fails to make your heart soar. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Come on, let’s get to the motorhome. I think we both could use a moment of peace before the craziness really begins.”
As you walk hand in hand through the paddock, you can’t help but reflect on the incident. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth, but there’s also a spark of hope. Because for every misogynistic TikToker, there are countless fans — of all backgrounds — who love the sport for what it is. Who appreciate the skill, the strategy, the sheer spectacle of it all.
And maybe, just maybe, standing up to ignorance one interaction at a time is how change really happens.
Charles squeezes your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”
You smile, leaning into him slightly as you walk. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. To be here, doing what I love. To have people in my life who support me and believe in me.”
He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “The luck goes both ways, mon cœur. You make me better, on and off the track.”
As you approach the Ferrari motorhome, its bright red a beacon in the sea of team colors, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. There will always be challenges, always be those who try to tear others down. But with love, determination, and a refusal to back down from what’s right, anything is possible.
Even changing the world of Formula 1, one small interaction at a time.
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pepperpatrol · 1 day ago
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You can always recognize an office worker in a customer bc these guys felt so put upon and affronted by being asked to stay home during all of that that they just fucking forgot how to act in public. They demand things and say things to my face that they never would have before. I've been directly called a bitch and physically threatened more times in the last 4 years than I was in the entire decade of working in service positions beforehand.
I used to like people, man. People would act like we were beneath them for being service workers sometimes but before all that I think a majority of people were polite enough. I just don't give a shit about the complaints of people who were not essential workers unless those complaints are that they want to go back to working remotely because covid isn't fucking over. There is no complaint they can possibly have that can compare to having to be face to face with 100s of people every day that made it abundantly clear that they were (and are) willing to sacrifice your life for their convenience.
im not saying office jobs aren’t bad in some ways but its always very telling when people treat it like the WORST job at the bottom of the rung…because they have never had to face manual labor as a real option they would ever be forced to take.
#And I have one of those “good” service industry jobs#Not retail or food service#I spent 6 months wading though an endless sea of assisting distraught people#with obituaries/death certificates/filing for unemployment while having to fend off idiots throwing shouting hissyfits#about how we weren't offering other services at the time or wasting a bunch of time with services that they#and I cannot stress this enough#could have done remotely#I caught covid twice. I'm lucky I'm not dead.#Some of my co-workers did die and I was expected to just like...be chill with the lingering specter of death I guess.#We had to fight to get the company to implement the plexiglass temporary screens or provide any masks.#Customers would sit there and profess that we were such heroes but they couldn't even handle standing six feet away.#If you asked someone to please comply with literally any safety standard they were ignoring#you were taking your life into your hands bc “what if they attack me for that?” was a real possible thing you had to consider.#I'm not a hero to them because they did not care!!!#The company said it first but the general public also made it abundantly clear!!#They did not give a single fuck if EVERYONE who worked there died!#They made small talk about it!#The Economy#You have to pretend to agree with them bc you can't have personalities or opinions on the work floor#Why yes sir I do think it's great that you can still come in here for virtually no reason#And give me a highly infectious deadly disease#Bc you're bored#I sure am happy to stick it to the libtards#By dying#And don't even get me started on how the public feels about the fact that I still wear a mask at work#I hate it here#I am banging on the walls screaming#You've got holidays and weekends and you only have to deal with your boss and your direct co workers!!!!!!#I know work in all it's forms is coercive and shitty#But PLEASE have some fucking PERSPECTIVE
22K notes · View notes
mephisto-reporting · 3 days ago
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Period Pain Simulator
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About:You suggest to use a period cramp simualtor on him, and he agrees, not fully understanding what he signed up for. Based on this request. Pairing: Female Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship.My inbox is open for prompts and requests :) Content Warning: Mention of periods, period care, pain.
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ZAYNE
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The pitch:
When you brought up the idea of trying a period pain simulator with Zayne, he initially tilted his head in that ever-so-slightly skeptical way he does when you propose something he deems "questionable."
You held up your phone, a mischievous grin on your face. "Zayne, I found something amazing. It’s a period pain simulator, and I think you should try it."
Zayne raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest. "Why? I’m a doctor. I understand how bad it can get."
You scoffed. "Do you really, though? So many male doctors dismiss period pain like it’s no big deal. I think it’s time you felt what we go through. You know, for science."
He gave a small, amused smirk, but the seriousness in his eyes softened. "Alright, I’ll humor you. But if we’re doing this, make sure to get the one that can simulate back pain, too. Many women experience cramps radiating through the lower back, not just the abdomen. It’ll be a more accurate representation."
The Setup:
When the package arrived, Zayne opened it with the same precision he used in surgery. He carefully examined the simulator pads and settings, nodding in approval. "This is well-designed. Electrodes for the lower abdomen and lumbar region… Not bad."
You couldn’t help but grin. "Glad it meets Dr. Zayne’s standards."
He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips. "Let’s get this over with. I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy this too much."
He meticulously read the instructions, asking you questions about where the pain usually hits, its intensity, and duration.“And you’d rate it… a 9? Frequently?” he asked, frowning slightly. “I know you’ve mentioned how painful it can be before, but hearing it in these terms makes it…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line.
You secured the simulator pads on him, and he reclined in his chair like a man about to undergo a scientific trial, his expression stoic.
The Experiment:
At first, Zayne was unshaken, even giving clinical commentary.
“The cramping sensation is similar to gastrointestinal issues.” he noted, folding his arms across his chest. “Not unbearable, but unpleasant. I can see why it’s distracting.”
“Distracting?” You rolled your eyes. “Just wait, doctor.”
By level 6, you saw the shift. His previously composed expression faltered, his jaw tightening slightly. “Ah,” he exhaled sharply, his posture stiffening. His hand gripped the arm of the chair, knuckles whitening. “"The contractions are sharper now. Definitely impacting focus and posture.”
“What? Giving up already?” you teased, trying not to laugh.
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, though a faint sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. “But this is… significantly more intense. Is this close to what you experience?”
"Not even close," you replied. "Mine’s more like a 9."
His eyebrows lifted, and he leaned forward slightly. "Let’s test it, then. Gradually increase it to your level."
When you nudged it to 8, his knees began to quiver slightly, and he leaned forward, bracing himself on his thighs.
“Alright,” he muttered, his voice tight. “That’s… that’s enough.”
You quickly turned it off, watching as he took a long, steadying breath, his head tilted back against the chair.
You immediately turned the device off and knelt in front of him, watching as he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Are you okay?"
Zayne didn’t say anything at first, just ran a hand down his face and looked at you.
“Nine?” he finally asked, his tone low and tinged with disbelief.
“Nine,” you confirmed, smiling faintly as you handed him a glass of water.
He exhaled sharply, his voice softer than usual. "I’m fine. Just… processing. I can’t believe you go through that regularly." He paused for a bit and said after a moment, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you function like this.”
You couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, doctor, any thoughts on how to fix it?”
He smirked faintly, though his expression still carried a hint of solemnity. “If I had the solution, I’d be a billionaire.”
The Aftermath:
From that day, Zayne became even more attentive during your periods. Whenever he noticed you wincing or holding your lower abdomen, he’d quietly step in with solutions. He was already a sweetheart before this when he would: Startkeeping track of your cycle, ensuring his apartment was stocked with your favorite snacks, pain relievers, and heating pads. On particularly bad days, he’d prepare meals for you, saying it was "basic patient care."
One morning, as you struggled to get ready for work, he handed you a heating pad. "Here. Lie down for a bit. I’ll call in and write you a sick note. You need rest more than they need you today."
You raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I can power through."
He placed a hand on your shoulder, his tone firm yet gentle. "No need to prove anything. Your health comes first."
He draped a blanket over you and handed you a mug of herbal tea. Sitting beside you, he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
"You’re spoiling me.." you teased.
He smirked, leaning in to kiss your temple. "After that simulator, you’ve earned it. Besides, I don’t mind taking care of you."
And from then on, Zayne made it his personal mission to ease your discomfort every month.
SYLUS
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The Pitch:
You bring up the idea while lounging in his living room, half-expecting him to dismiss it with his usual sly smirk. Instead, he leans back, crossing one leg over the other, an amused glint in his sharp eyes.
"A period cramp simulator, hmm? You want to subject me to this, kitten?" His voice is teasing, but there's intrigue in his tone.
“You already treat me like royalty during my periods, but I think it’d be fun to see if you can handle the pain. You’re always so smug about your high pain tolerance.”
Sylus had always been attentive during your period. He tracked your cycle meticulously, often surprising you with gestures that softened even his domineering demeanor. He'd run you a hot bath infused with soothing oils, carrying you to the tub if you were too tired to move. When cramps got bad, he’d hold a warm compress to your stomach, his other hand massaging your lower back with expert care. When you think you’re being a bother, he’d often say: “Sweetie, do you think the Onychinus leader doesn’t know how to cater to his queen?"
Sylus chuckled lowly, leaning forward. “Very well, kitten. I’ll play along with your little experiment. But I warn you,” he teased, tapping your nose lightly, “don’t get your hopes up. I’ve endured worse than cramps.”
The Setup:
When the package arrives, Sylus studies it with unnerving focus, turning the instruction manual over in his hands. He helps you place the patches and electrodes on his abdomen, his smirk never fading.
“Don’t look so thrilled,” you tease.
“Oh, I’m just curious how something as small as this could possibly mimic what you endure.” he replies, confident.
You set the simulator to level 1 as he stands in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for your meal.
"Are you sure you want to cook like that?" you ask.
He shrugs. “You manage to work and do your chores during this, don’t you? Fair is fair.”
The Experiment:
At level 1, Sylus continued to chop vegetables, unfazed. “A mild annoyance,” he commented, smirking over his shoulder. “Feels like someone’s pinching me.”
By level 4, he hummed quietly, stirring the pot on the stove. “I can see why it’s bothersome,” he admitted. “Having this sensation constantly for days would be draining.”
You crossed your arms. “This is what I feel before my period starts. My cramps are much worse.”
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. “Then turn it up. Let’s see what you deal with, kitten.”
At around level 7, his breath hitches slightly, and his movements slow. The knife falters for a second before he regains his rhythm. “Interesting…” he mutters, the usual smugness replaced by concentration. “This is… unpleasant,” he admitted, his voice gruff.
At level 8, Sylus paused, one hand gripping the edge of the counter as a faint grunt escaped him. “You’re telling me this is a normal day for you?”
You shrugged, leaning against the counter. “More or less. Sometimes it’s worse.”
When you hit level 9, his head dipped slightly, a cold sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. “This…” he growled softly, straightening with effort, “is brutal. And you still function like this?”
“At least you’re not curling up in bed crying…” you teased.
He shot you a strained smirk. “Who says I’m not thinking about it?”
At level 10, Sylus shuddered, a rare moment of vulnerability showing as he gripped the counter tightly. “Alright, turn it off!” he said, his voice low and rough. “Next time any man says something dismissive about period pains…” He straightens, despite his trembling legs. “The Onychinus leader will personally make sure they understand how bad it can be.”
You help him to the couch, gently massaging his shoulders while he catches his breath. He leans into your touch, uncharacteristically silent. After a few minutes, he looks at you, his gaze softer than you’ve ever seen it.
“You go through that every month?” he asks, his tone laced with awe and guilt.
You nod. “And worse, sometimes.”
You handed him a glass of water, running a soothing hand over his back. “You okay now, Mr. Tough Guy?”
His smirk returned, albeit faintly. “I’m fine. But I have a new appreciation for your resilience. You’re tougher than I gave you credit for, sweetie.” he murmured, his hand reaching out to pull you close.
The Aftermath:
From that day, Sylus became even more attentive during your cycle. He already tracked it meticulously, but two days before your period, he’d sweep you off your feet—literally.
“No arguments.” he’d say as he carried you to his car. “You’re staying with me. I’ll handle everything.”
For the next several days, you weren’t allowed to lift a finger. He made sure every craving was satisfied, every discomfort alleviated.
One evening, as you sat curled up on his plush couch, he brought over a tray with your favorite snacks and bobba. Sitting beside you, he gently massaged your shoulders.
“You know…” you teased, “you don’t have to spoil me this much.”
Sylus leaned in, his voice a low, affectionate murmur. “After what you go through, sweetie? You deserve it. Besides,” he added with a playful smirk, “I like taking care of my kitten.”
RAFAYEL
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The Pitch:
You find Rafayel in his art studio, humming to himself as he paints bold, crimson strokes across the canvas. His expression is focused, but when you mention the period simulator, he freezes mid-swipe.
“Wait. Back up.” He narrows his eyes at you, holding the brush aloft like a sword. “You want me to voluntarily experience pain? Have I offended you somehow, or do you just take joy in my suffering?”
You grin. “I was thinking it might inspire your art. Pain breeds creativity, doesn’t it?”
He gasps, clutching his chest. “You’d subject me to agony for the sake of art? Truly, you are a sadist of the highest order. But…” He sighs dramatically, as though resigning himself to a grim fate. “Only you could convince me to do such a thing. You should feel privileged. But don’t think I’m suffering alone. If I do this, you’re doing it with me.”
The Setup:
When the simulator package arrives, Rafayel eyes it like it might explode. Picking up one of the devices, he smirks.
“Cutie, there’s four devices… I think you misordered. Should we strap one of these on Reddie and see how he handles it? Might be the only thing more ridiculous than this idea.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s meant to simulate cramps on your stomach and back, Rafayel. And no, we’re not torturing your pet fish.”
He flips through the instructions and gasps. “It goes up to ten? Why stop there? Why not go straight to death by cramps? You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You scared?” you tease, securing the pads on his abdomen.
“Me? Scared?” He laughs, though there’s a nervous edge to it. “Please. Let’s get this over with, sadist.”
The Experiment:
The simulator starts, and Rafayel chuckles, waving it off. “Okay, I feel… something. Like a tiny, grumpy crab pressing against my stomach. Barely noticeable.” He glances at you, checking your reaction. “You’re starting this at baby mode, right? Because this is nothing.”
At level 4, his smugness evaporates as he clutches his abdomen. “Okay, wait. What is this? This is worse than that bad lobster I ate last year! Remember that? I thought I was dying, and now I’m reliving it!” As you ramp it up to level 5, Rafayel grabs your hand tightly, his face pale. “How—how are you just sitting there? Are you even human? You’re not reacting, and I’m over here wondering if my internal organs are trying to start a mutiny!”
When the simulator goes up to a level 6, Rafayel groans, leaning heavily on you. “This… this is inhuman! How can anyone live like this? I’m calling it now!! every deity ever owes women an apology. A big one.”
When you turn the dial to level 7, he collapses onto the couch in defeat, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “I’m done! I can’t! This is not natural. What kind of cruel universe would let this happen? I concede! You win! You’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”
Watching you crank the simulator up to 10, Rafayel’s jaw drops. He stares at you like you’ve just walked through fire. “You’re not human. You’re a goddess of pain. A warrior queen. I bow to your strength.”
When the simulation ends, Rafayel sprawls across the couch like a fallen hero. “I’ve seen the face of true suffering, and it’s period cramps,” he says, clutching his chest. “From now on, I swear on my soul, I will treat you like the queen you are. From now on, during your period, I vow to never, ever bother you. In fact, I’ll treat you like royalty. You’ll want for nothing. You have my word.”
The Aftermath:
True to his promise, Rafayel becomes even more attentive, finding ways to make your life easier and more comfortable during that time of the month.
During your next period, Rafayel sets up a cozy movie marathon. He ensures you’re comfortable, surrounded by pillows and snacks, while he fetches anything you need.
“You shouldn’t even have to move during this time,” he says, adjusting your blanket.
Rafayel starts holding his tongue when he’d usually tease you about being grumpy or tired. Instead, he softens his tone and offers comfort.
“Cranky today?” he asks, then quickly holds up his hands. “Not judging. Just… Here, have this chocolate. And maybe don’t throw..” pauses mid-snark every time you are on your period now.
“You really don’t have to—”
He cuts you off, wagging a finger. “Nope! I have seen the light—and the pain. I will never bother you during this time again. In fact, I’ll personally fight anyone who does.”
XAVIER
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The Pitch:
It’s late evening, and the glow of dimmed lights barely keeps the shadows at bay. Xavier sits across from you, his neutral expression making his ghost story seem even eerier. His voice is steady, almost monotone, as he recounts the chilling tale of an N109 Wanderer cursed to roam forever.
“And then, the last person to see him claimed they felt his breath on their neck, even though they were alone,” he murmurs, his tone unwavering.
A shiver runs down your spine, but you can’t help but interrupt. “You’re really good at these creepy stories. Ever think you might scare yourself with anything at all?”
Xavier pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to scare me?”
You laugh nervously. “No! I was just thinking about something I saw online. A period simulator. It looked like fun—or, well, not fun, but… interesting.”
He leans back slightly, his neutral mask slipping into the faintest smirk. “So, instead of scaring me, you want to torture me? Bold.”
“It’s not torture,” you counter. “Just… educational. And you’re good at handling pain, right?”
After a beat, Xavier shrugs. “If it’ll make you happy, sure.”
The Setup:
The next day, a text from Xavier lights up your phone:
“It’s here. Looks dystopian. Like something from the Ever’s labs.”
Curious and excited, you rush home. When you arrive, you find him sprawled on the couch, his hair slightly disheveled as though he just woke up from a nap.
He glances at you, his expression as neutral as ever, though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “You look way too excited for this. I hope it’s not as bad as it looks.”
As you set up the simulator, Xavier leans back, arms folded behind his head. “Go ahead. I’ll just nap through this, like everything else.”
The Experiment:
You attach the simulator pads to Xavier’s abdomen and adjust the settings. He barely reacts as you activate it.
“I feel something,” he mutters, closing his eyes again. “It’s like… a soft vibration. Barely noticeable.” He shifts slightly, adjusting his head on the couch pillow. Xavier’s brow furrows slightly, the first sign of unease. “Alright. It’s like a cramp now,” he remarks, still lying down. “Not pleasant, but nothing worth waking up for.”
At level 4, Xavier’s breath hitches briefly. He sits up halfway, propping himself on his elbows. “Okay. This is… noticeable. Like someone twisting a knife in slow motion.”
He glances at you. “You feel this regularly? Seems inconvenient.”
You nod at him. "That's on a lucky day... it's worse usually."
When you dial up the intensity to level 5, Xavier sits up fully, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Alright. This is officially too much to nap through.” His usually even tone is edged with mild irritation.
He rubs at his side, his neutral expression faltering as he exhales through clenched teeth.
At level 6, Xavier winces visibly. His calm exterior cracks as he shifts uncomfortably. “Who thought this was a good idea? This is like… a fight I can’t win. But it’s inside me.”
He shoots you a tired glare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
By the time you reach level 7, Xavier grips the couch’s armrest, his knuckles white. “This is insane!!" he mutters, his voice tight. “How do you even… move? Function? Exist?”
He closes his eyes and takes a slow, measured breath. “Alright, I’m impressed. But I hate this.”
When you push it to level 8, Xavier’s calm breaks completely. He groans, pulling the simulator pads off. “Nope. I’m done. This is where I draw the line.”
He leans back, pressing his hand against his abdomen. “You win. And I officially respect the crap out of you.”
The Aftermath:
From that day on, Xavier’s quiet attentiveness becomes more noticeable. He doesn’t make a big show of it…he’s still Xavier, after all. Whenever you look even slightly uncomfortable, he’s there with a heat pack, water, or a blanket, his movements calm and efficient.
One night, as you rest on the couch, he leans over, adjusting the blanket over your shoulders. “For what it’s worth,” he says softly, “if I could take that pain for you, I would.” When you casually mention feeling cramps, Xavier immediately stops what he’s doing.
“Don’t move,” he says, his neutral expression betraying his seriousness. “I’ll get you tea, chocolate, or… whatever else helps.”
When you protest, he shakes his head. “No arguments. I’ve been there…well, sort of…and I’m not letting you handle it alone.”
Xavier hands you a heat pack, his movements precise as he places it on your lower back.
“I read somewhere this helps,” he explains, his tone matter-of-fact. “And no, I’m not going to fall asleep while holding it for you. Probably... It’s nice and warm…”
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AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
Taglist: @cordidy
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checkeredflagggs · 2 days ago
Text
Unsolved
Pairing: charles leclerc x podcaster!reader
summary: when charles admits to listening to unsolved, Ferrari take it upon themselves to play matchmaker
a/n: Hope everyone has a good 2025!
a/n2: I made up all of these murders and mysteries. My bad if they’re actually real
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by yourprivate, maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, and 3,138,723 others
scuderiaferrari: Carlos and Charles took the stage today to answer fans’ questions!
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user1: god do they look good
↳user2: i knnnnnoooowwwww
↳user1: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now ngl
user3: loved the little baking lesson that Carlos had going on there at one point
↳user4: god can we get charles to take notes???
↳arthur_leclerc: it wouldn’t help
↳charles_leclerc: stop lying! I can cook
↳arthur_leclerc: you can’t
↳user4: we saw that pasta video…unless you’ve gotten vastly better no you can’t
user5: my big surprise takeaway was that charles also listens to unsolved? He seems like that would be too scary for him tbh
↳user6: listen that man has been in Ferrari for years now
↳user6: listen to the horrors? No no no. He lives with them. He is them
↳user7: alrighty there Mr. Philosophy. Chill
user8: ok but did you see his blush when they asked why he liked unsolved?
↳user9: YES! I think the mans likes the podcaster, not the podcast!
↳user8: can you blame him? They’re hot af
user10: ok but i feel like this is the start of a meet cute? liked by charles_leclerc, yourprivate
↳user10: did??? Did Charles just like my comment???
↳arthur_leclerc: 😆😆😆😆
unsolved
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, maxverstappen1, and 724,293 others
unsolved: Let’s talk death and disappearances this month — three cases spread across 3 states and 3 decades that have never been solved that starts and ends in Boston! Lisa Miller, …more
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user11: chilling…
user12: ok but why do they match so well…did you just somehow connect these 3 murders?
user13: damn do the fbi need to hire you. liked by the fbi
↳user13: wait what???
maxverstappen1: good stuff 👍🏻
↳user14: what in the earth is this crossover???
↳user15: vroom vroom guys listen to murder mystery podcast??
↳charles_leclerc: NO. NO WE DONT
↳unsolved: shame 😞
↳charles_leclerc: no wait wait wait. I DO! They don’t.
↳pierregasly: 😂😂
↳user16: what in the world…
oscarpiastri: interesting, interesting…
↳charles_leclerc: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
↳oscarpiastri: that’s no way to speak to your son…
↳user17: what is going on in the House of Commons???
↳unsolved: that’s what we would like to know as well…
↳charles_leclerc: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING IS HAPPENIGN!!
Private Emails
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, unsolved, and 2,133,464 others
tagged: unsolved
scuderiaferrari: COTA here we come…with a mysterious guest!
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user18: OH MY GOD did they really invite the unsolved podcaster Charles has been not so secretly thirsting over???
↳user19: they did! I bet it’s gonna be a really interesting race…
charles_leclerc: we look forward to seeing you!
↳user20: how long did it take you to type that out and not completely freak??
↳arthur_leclerc: longer than you think possible!
this comment was deleted
↳carlossainz55: his face was redder then our cars
this comment was deleted
↳pierregasly: I was fielding panicked calls all day. You have no idea
this comment was deleted
↳maxverstappen1: I just took his phone and did it for him 😂
this comment was deleted
user21: my fingers are crossed. I am sat. Please please please give us a good episode of unsolved with Charles and Carlos. You don’t understand my NEED for this to happen
↳user21: god I’m just imaging something like their prison episode from 2 years ago? Like spooky and creepy to the extreme!
↳user22: sorry but can you explain? I’m new to unsolved and am working backwards!
↳user21: of course! So about 2/2.5 years ago the unsolved crew camped out in a decommissioned prison with a ghost hunter group (I forgot their name sorry!)
↳user21: while the hunters were, you know, searching for ghosts, the unsolved crew were doing an in-depth study on all the creepy and dangerous murders that happened in the prison!
↳user21: it was a really fun crossover episode!
↳user22: oh! That’s so cool! And austion has some pretty haunted places — maybe they’ll do it again here!
unsolved has posted 3 stories
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[COTA here I come!] [beautiful!] [The setting for tonight!]
user23 replied I’m so excited!
scuderiaferrari replied glad to see you on the way!
↳unsolved thanks for setting this up!
↳unsolved I’m very excited!
user24 replied oh my god that’s such a pretty photo!
user25 replied go get your man
↳unsolved whaat??
↳user25 oh my god you don’t know??
↳unsolved ???
↳user25 oh this is gonna be funny af
scuderiaferrari replied …you’ll have both our drivers back in one piece right??
↳unsolved of course!
charles_leclerc replied that’s…that’s where we are staying??
↳unsolved yup!
Bluesky
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Bluesky
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unsolved
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, sebastionvettel, maxverstappen1, and 1,231,122 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrar, spiritsleuths
unsolved: only 1 driver was hurt in the making of this video and his name was…Jasper White! Thanks to scuderiaferrari for loaning us their drivers to make this amazing video that took a long look at some of the most haunting deaths in this local Austin landmark! And thanks to the Spirit Sleuths for helping us out last night!
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user26: spooky…
↳user27: it feels unreal that there were so many deaths in one place in such quick succession…
oscarpiastri: glad to see you made it though the night
↳charles_leclerc: of course I did! There was no problems whatsoever
↳unsolved: I’m pretty sure I have a couple of hours of video that show you screaming and clutching at me to prove that wrong…
↳charles_leclerc: you don’t ☺️☺️☺️
↳maxverstappen1: ohhh share?
↳unsolved: that’s no footage I guess
↳pierregasly: shame
↳charles_leclerc: thank you 😊
↳user19: hmmmmm user53??
↳user53: i see it. I see it
arthur_leclerc: ok but how many drivers were screaming???
↳unsolved: all of them!
↳charles_leclerc: no! Just 1 🥹🥹
↳unsolved: sorry just one!
↳carlossainz55: compañero?
↳charles_leclerc: just 1!!!
↳unsolved: sorry 🤗
↳user19: hmmmmm
↳user53: adding it to the folder now
user28: that was such a fun episode!
↳spiritsleuths: just wait for our cut of the night!
↳user28: I’m sitting. I’m sat. I’m ready.
sebastionvettel: never thought I’d see the day after that incident in 2019
↳landonorris: share!
↳oscarpiastri: don’t you mean the inchident
↳maxverstappen1: another inchident??
↳carlossainz55: it was for a love interest
this comment was deleted
↳charles_leclerc: this time it won’t be just an inchident
scuderiaferrari
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liked by yourprivate, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 2,293,124 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari: And that’s our COTA winner Charles Leclerc!
view all comments
yourprivate: Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me
↳charles_leclerc: who are we to fight the alchemy?
user29: man he moves fast
↳charles_leclerc: very fast!
↳charles_leclerc: not letting this chance escape me!
↳user29: oh my god im so jealous right now
↳yourprivate: 🤭🤭🤭
carlossainz55: congrats mate!
↳charles_leclerc: you too!
↳charles_leclerc: for both reasons!!
↳carlossainz55: shush!
↳user30: oh??? user19, user53???
↳user19: …I’m on it
↳user53: I’ll start the coffee
↳user31: COFFEE??!?? ARE YOU GUYS TOGETHER???????
↳user53:WHAT NO? AHAT? SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
↳user19: I DONT KNOW AHAT YOURE TAKKING ABOU AHAHAHA
↳user32: user19 user53 act normal challenge — failed
pierregasly: thank god. Now stop texting me asking how to ask them out
↳charles_leclerc: stop. talking.
↳yourprivate: awww were you nervous?
↳pierregasly: if nervous includes texting me over 200 times in an hour with different pick up lines and selfies asking how his hair and outfit looked?
↳pierregasly: yes
↳charles_leclerc: im going to run you over 😄
↳scuderiaferrari: you can’t actually say that Charles!
↳charles_leclerc: for legal reasons this was (not) a joke
↳charles_leclerc: 😁😁😁
↳pierregasly: …I don’t like that emoji calmar
↳charles_leclerc: 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁
user33: the way he sprinted over to her…
↳user34: I have NEVER been so jealous as I am right now
↳yourprivate: ehehehehehe
↳user34: ok no need to rub it our faces
↳yourprivate: why wouldn’t I?
↳charles_leclerc: 🥰🥰🥰🥰
↳yourprivate: 😘😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳user34: right in front of my salad???
user35: wow that highway is calling my name tonight…
↳user36: sleepover!
693 notes · View notes
krystella-shifts · 2 days ago
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EVERYTHING IS CLICKING FOR ME Y'ALL!!! *ੈ✩‧₊˚
The only post you'll ever need for LOA. Literally.
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It's so easy to manifest literally so easy once you do this. JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX, BE IN RECIVING MODE INSTEAD OF CONSTANTLY FEELING LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. Yes sometimes it can be hard when you feel panic that you have to manifest as fast as possible but trust me once you TRUST, it'll all fall into your lap at the snap of a finger! Literally. You'll even feel better and happy instead of worrying and feel like waiting forever. The universe/god/your higher self, whatever you believe in is telling you or teaching you that the way isn't through worry, stress, pain, suffering. The way is through ease, love, trust. Once you understand this you'll ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS be able to manifest without any effort. Yes, no need for that 21 days challenge, no need to set a reminder for every hour to affirm, no need to try hard to visualise every teeny tiny detail. Just have this inner knowing and relax. That's the cheat code. How easy is that? You literally have the cheat code and it doesn't require ANY effort outside and the most minimal effort inside.
Now let me explain all the manifestation techniques in more detail.
Every manifestation technique has one goal:
Think about any technique. Affirming, visualising, scripting,etc. All of these are for what? To remind you, you have your desire. YES not to get something. That's why Neville said feel it real is very powerful technique. Cuz that's what happens when we receive something right. But what we do in loa is we feel it rn and get it rn, and because the 3d is in the past, yes it's our past assumptions, that's why we say it's not real. So when we feel it real we already have our desire in the present, but the 3d is not in the present. So don't react to it. Just remember that. And after a few days of having our desire we don't get THAT excited, do we? So when you think about it again you don't have to feel anything or do anything cuz you already have it. AND THEN WE JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX. Again the same conclusion. Cuz that's it!
ALL YOU NEED TO EVER DO:
Decide what you want. And feel having it.
Remind yourself that you have ___ either saying it in your head, writing it down, etc
RELAX. SIT TF BACK. YES YOU DON'T NEED TO DO ANYTHING.
Whenever you think about ___ always remember you have it. And think naturally. How would you think having ___ cuz you do now.
Remember the 3d is a product of your past assumptions. Just like how we see the stars 8 years later of their actual form. Just like it takes 8 minutes for sunlight to reach the earth. If you remember this you won't ask "where it is" you know it is here. And yes u can manifest Shifting too.
Allow it to come to you. I don't chase i attract.
Yes that's what it means. And I am the living proof for that 😌💅🏻✨ I am literally living my dream life and bestie you are too. That's all you need to manifest (aka yourself). It's very simple but if you have any questions feel free to comment and keep me updated on your manifestation journey and success stories cuz I'd love to read them and know if my post helped you 🤭🥂 (atleast you can do that for me, right? ;p)
Love, ... redkittyjellyfish? Wait i need to change my user name 💀 (ps. I changed my user from redkittyjellyfish - Krystella-Shifts (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) )
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
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toothfa-1-ry · 2 days ago
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WON'T YOU HOLD ME, CONSOLE ME ?
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You don't expect your boyfriend to hold you or console you when you find out your pregnant, but you also didnt expect him to leave you without a trace either
Has no correlation to the other preg!reader fic i posted !!
GENRE: angst
PAIRING: Choi su-bong x preg!reader
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"Fuck" thanos groans with his head thrown back, his hands covering his face while he steps away from you
Your hold around your stomach tightens as you don't look up, keeping your gaze at the ground
"I thought you were on that shitty pill?" Thanos glanced at you before letting out a prolonged sigh
"You know that it doesn't mean a hundred percent protection" you argue, eyebrows furrowing slightly "it's not my fault! You were the one who-"
"I know geez!"
"Then why are you getting so agitated!"
"Because" thanos spluttered "because this is a kid we're talking about"
You pause, not being able to think of anything to say back, instead retreating your eyes back at your stomach
"And it's my fucking kid. Mine" thanos points at himself in the chest
"Is that why your mad?" You hate the way your voice trembles "because it's your kid and not some random bastards on the street?"
"Watch your mouth" thanos snarls "you know it's not like that, do you want me to say that it is?"
"Ah fuck" your voice a few ratios higher than it usually was, you could feel the lump in your throat forming
Thanos sighs again, his eyes softening as he glances your face and your stomach
"Aish your fucking kidding me man, your the one who started arguing first" he grumbles annoyed, but approaches you with his arms open anyways
You push against his hold at first, anger still flaring inside of you but you end up giving in pretty fast, so desperately wanting to be held
"Are the pregnancy symptoms already kicking in?" Thanos asked while pulling your head to rest in his shoulders "what a pain" muttering under his breath
"You asshole" you sob while your hands ball into a fist
"Hey your carrying the asshole's kid, i don't think your one to speak" thanos adds in quickly, frowning "Don't make this harder than it already is"
Despite Thanos holding you in his arms, you hit him with your balled fist, your face streaming with tears
"Hey stop" thanos frowns "stop before I seriously get mad" he grips your hand "im not mad right now, but if you don't stop i will"
You sniffle softly, your head laying on his chest as his eyebrows are still furrowed with concern over the recent news of your pregnancy
"What are we gonna do?" You ask amidst sniffles
Thanos allows you to lean against him, staring at the wall of the cramped room the both of you lived in
"I dont know" he mutters "we could go to the hospital? Try for a..." his voice trails off. You knew what he was referring to
This just makes your sniffles louden even more causing him to inwardly groan, he never knew how to handle emotions as such, most of the time just shutting up and holding you or something along that line but that didn't seem to be the brightest thing to do and even Thanos knew that
"Su-bong" you whisper, your hands snaking around his waist, pressing yourself closer towards him as if to shield yourself
Thanos winces softly when he hears you call his real name, he always winces when he hears his real name.
He let's out a rough grunt of acknowledgement "What?"
"I don't think I want a abortion"
"Well fuck baby, we can't afford it either way. It was stupid of me to suggest" he lazily responds, while resting his face above your head
"We can't afford to raise it too" you murmer causing Thanos to shift uncomfortably
"I know" he snorts "fuck"
"So what will we do?"
Thanos hears the imploring tone of your voice. Most of the time he was the one asking you that question. In your relationship you were the one who took on the role of the logical one, but here you were, asking Thanos something that you both didn't know the answer to
"I'll-" thanos breathed "I'll figure something out"
You look up at him, moving your face away from his chest, your eyes pleading
"You sure you want the kid?" You ask him
"Your already pregnant anyways, i can't do anything about it"
"This isn't a joke" you retort loudly
"Your the one who said you don't want an abortion!" Thanos also raises his voice
"We can't afford it anyways you idiot!"
"Well damn, it's like i didn't just fucking say that like 5 seconds ago" he thundered which immediately cause you to tear up again
Thanos tilts his head down, pressing his lips into a tight straight line, regretting his actions almost immediately
"Hey" his voice rough and deep as he called out to you "look at me"
He purses his lips when he sees you still refusing to face him, your hands hiding your face
"Hey" he says more softly as he moves your hand away from your face "im sorry okay, cmon just look at me"
Thanos leans his head against yours while he clasps his hand around yours
"I'll figure something out" he raspily breathed out "I'll get a day job, fuck it baby, I'll get 2 day jobs"
You had no strength to talk back, choosing to silently nod
Thanos kisses your forehead while he wipes your tears away
"I said I'll figure something out, so stop your damn crying okay?" He says playfully, in an attempt to stop you from crying
You nodd slowly, causing him to smile tightly
he kneels down, facing your stomach "im sure the baby wouldn't want to hear his mom cry huh?" He announces as if though he was talking to the baby
He looks up to your face to see your face, trying to make you laugh or smile or anything at all
"You better not be a shit ass kid" thanos pokes your stomach softly "cause of you, your mom's hormones are going wild already"
"Asshole" you breathed with a laugh "im crying cause of you, fucking prick"
Thanos grins as he looks up to you, standing up he grabs your hand
"I swear" he picks your hands up, placing a soft kiss "ill figure something out for the three of us"
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Finding a job was hard
Especially as a retired rapper who basically got fucking conned by some asshole on the internet
Fucking bitch
Thanos stays up awake, leaning against the wall of the trashy one room so called apartment that you both lived in.
He inhales his cyan blue vape while eyeing the cigarette burn marks that painted the wall
His head thuds against the dirty peeling wallpaper, while you layed asleep on the floor across him, only a thin blanket covering your body
A soft smile graces his features when he notices the slight swell of your stomach
That's his kid right there, that's the mother of his child right there
Thanos couldn't afford to marry your right now, he wishes he could.
Fucking hell, he couldn't even afford a shitty ring let alone a ring that you actually deserved, he'd marry you with a plastic bottle seal if he could but he knew that you deserved more,
Damn, you deserve so much better than him, so much more than what he could give you
The kid in your stomach deserved better too. His kid
Thanos's smile fades away, leaving behind a grimace when he notices that the blanket doesn't fully cover your body, noticing the colour far beyond faded and the material already thinning out
He immediately unzips his jacket, going forward to place it above your body. It was the least that he could do
Suddenly, a piece of paper falls out of the pocket, he notices it as the card from the strange man earlier
Just thinking about it pissed him off, he recieved more slaps than money
Holding the card in his hand, he turns it over, mouthing the number behind the card, he swallows nervously unlike him while contemplating whether it was worth calling
Slowly typing in the digits in his phone he places his device on his ear, holding his breath as the phone rings
Once, twice, the phone continues to ring, thrice, now going four times
Thanos sighs, bringing the phone down, ready to press cancel when suddenly
"In order to sign up to play the game, please submit your name and date of birth"
Thanos breathes sharply, his finger wavering above the cancel button while your sleeping figure which remained unaware of what raced through your boyfriend's head
"Fuck" thanos curses, he glances at you
Thanos's hands trembled as he filled in his details, his pupils dilated, his mouth dried.
He knew what you'd say if you were awake, scolding him for being so naive and believing but you didn't meet that strange man in the grey suit did you?
He bites his lips when he reads the address and time of where he was suppose to go, noticing that the last date of entering the so called games was the current date
"I wont be gone for long" he mutters softly as he stands up, placing a kiss on your cheek before heading towards the door
He puts his old shoes on, the only branded ones he had left from back in his rapper days, the one who had picked for him, the only pair he didn't sell
He slips outside quietly, before sparring you one last glance
"Wait for me, just for a little bit" he whispered with a faint smile though it didnt quite didn't reach his eyes
He glances from your face to your stomach "your dad will be back with shit ton of money, i'll make sure you both live well"
He pauses before closing the door, contemplating for a minute, it felt so wrong to leave just like that,
He didn't want to go, it felt like the wrong thing to do but he steps out of the house anyway
"Take care of your mom when I'm gone"
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
The next morning, you wake up warmer than you usually do, but you can't ignore the ever so persistent pounding of your heart
Your heart feels heavier than usual too
Noticing your boyfriend's jacket wrapped around you, you slowly wake up, looking for him
You look for him for the entire day,
it soon turns into 2 days and 2 days soon turn into 2 weeks
The bruise you recieved earlier that day after being chased down the street by some debt collectors begun to sting.
They didn't care whether you were pregnant or not, they just wanted the money you had borrowed from them back
And then that's when it hits you
When your standing on top cold floor of, with only your boyfriend's jacket left as a reminder of him,
He left.
He left without saying anything, without leaving even a single trace, he left not even with a single goodbye
He left you.
Your hand trails to your stomach.
He left the both of you
You sink down, legs giving out as your body trembles, you lie on the wilting cot that served as a place of comfort, sobbing, shrieking, crying his name out
Screaming anything that would have send him running towards you,
But no one comes.
Unbeknownst to you, at the very same time you fall on the ground, thanos's cold body is lifted up from the cold bathroom floor and packed into black coloured coffin
His eyes still wide open, his entire body covered in his own blood
When the guards strip his clothes away, they find something in his pocket
A plastic ring
it couldn't have been worth much, maybe from a kids toy, it left the guards puzzled
What would a person like Thanos be doing with a plastic ring in his pocket?
Perhaps you would understand it better
After all, he held you, consoled you. That prick even left you without a single trace
907 notes · View notes
dilf-docs · 2 days ago
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To The Devil I Know
dbf!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad. but what is the perfect way to leash all your anger out?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing (joel's kind of a perv, ay), dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)
word count: 7,195 words
side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)
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"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"
It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.
When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.
"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"
You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.
"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"
You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.
"Yeah, about that..."
"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.
"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"
In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.
"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"
"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.
"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"
"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."
"Did you just call me fat?"
You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.
"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"
He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"
Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.
"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"
"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"
You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.
"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"
"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"
Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.
"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"
Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.
"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"
"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.
"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"
Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.
"And we're taking my truck"
"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?
He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.
"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"
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You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.
He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:
Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.
Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.
You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.
If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.
"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.
You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:
"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"
As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.
"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"
You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.
"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.
You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"
"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"
Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"
He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.
A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.
"Damn right you don't"
You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.
"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"
"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.
He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:
"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"
But you hear.
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You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.
"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."
"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.
The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.
"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"
"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.
Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.
"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"
"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.
"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.
"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.
"You'll have to prove that"
You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.
"Prove that?"
You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.
"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"
But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.
"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.
You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.
On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.
"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"
"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"
"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"
You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.
"It's... not here"
"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.
"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"
You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.
"Lost somethin'?"
You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.
"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"
"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.
You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.
"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.
"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.
"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"
You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.
"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.
Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.
"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"
She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.
That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.
Anytime.
You can't help but wonder what stopped him.
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Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.
Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.
Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.
The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.
Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.
The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.
He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.
You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.
"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"
"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.
"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.
Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.
But you won't let him win.
"Mr. Miller?"
"Yeah?"
"Were you married?"
He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.
"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"
"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.
He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.
"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"
"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"
He scoffs. "Still hella young"
"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.
"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"
You loose your patience.
"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"
Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.
"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"
"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.
When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.
"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"
You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.
"I think I know what you want"
"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.
Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.
You haven't even started yet.
"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"
You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.
"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.
"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.
It was all so fucked up.
But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.
"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"
The praise gets to you, even if not needed.
Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.
"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.
He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.
You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.
"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.
You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.
"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.
And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:
"Y/n"
You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.
Joel said your name.
Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.
Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.
"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"
He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.
"But do you?"
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Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.
He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.
But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.
Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.
He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.
But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.
He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.
"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.
"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.
"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"
Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.
"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.
"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.
"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.
"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"
So you do.
You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.
But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.
You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.
"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.
Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.
"What?"
"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"
If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.
"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.
"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"
So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.
Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.
And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.
"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"
Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:
"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"
He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"
"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.
"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"
You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.
"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.
The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.
"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"
"I won't tell you shit" you spit.
"You little mix, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"
The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.
Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.
"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.
"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"
You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.
"What are you-"
"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"
As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.
"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.
"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"
You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.
"Good girl"
He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.
"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"
The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.
"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"
You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.
"Yes, I'll be"
"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"
"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"
"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"
You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.
"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"
You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.
"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"
The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.
"Joel" you breathe out. 
He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.
"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"
He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.
"Sorry, Mr. Miller"
"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.
But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.
"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"
The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.
"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"
You laugh breathless, trying to recover.
"Wanna taste?"
So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.
"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"
He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.
You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.
"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.
"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.
Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.
Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 
He positions himself between your legs again.
"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"
He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.
Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.
"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.
The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.
"I will, Mr. Miller"
He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.
"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.
You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.
"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"
His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.
"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"
The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.
"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.
This is real.
You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.
"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"
His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.
"Take it all, like the good girl you are"
Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.
He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.
"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.
But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.
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tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)
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evie-sturns · 2 days ago
Text
first date - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after a perfect first date with matt, the last thing you expected is for him to make such a big move after he drives you home, you definitely aren't complaining after though,
contains: fluff, an intense makeout session, shy!matt (to an extent) swearing.
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tonight had just been perfect,
i met matt at a party last week, and i couldn’t say no to his somewhat amusingly awkward self as he asked for my number.
he was just my type, his loose brown waves draped over his forehead, his earrings catching the light from the party and sparkling, and his shy demeanour.
he messaged me a day ago, asking if i wanted to go out for dinner with him, which i obviously agreed to.
10:21pm
i shivered in the cool air of the night, smiling up at matt as he ordered you both an ice-cream cone,
“you cold?” matt asks softly, i nod as i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip as a weak attempt to stop the chattering of my teeth.
“a little bit,” i laugh,
matt instantly takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders,
“why didn’t you bring a coat? it’s like the middle of december.” he scoffs, nudging my elbow slightly.
“shuuush, i didn’t know you’d take me out for icecream at like- midnight!” i throw my hands up defensively,
“righhttt.” he grins down at me.
-
the night was coming to a close as you jumped into the passenger seat of matt’s car, clutching an icecream cone in your hand as you fiddled with the seatbelt.
“you okay?” he asks, starting up the car.
“yeah- i’m still cold though.” i roll my eyes playfully, matt instantly reaches out and fiddles with the heating, cranking it up.
“wait what the fuck- since when did i have the option to have heated seats!” he exclaims, his jaw slack as he pushes the button.
“ew matt! my butts warm now.” i groan, instantly turning off the button.
matt laughs loudly as he pulls out of the parking lot, staring the drive home.
i look over at him a couple times, his ringed fingers gripping the steering wheel catching my eye.
i’m definitely staring now.
his hands were perfect, he was perfect. i genuinely did not catch one wrong thing about him from the date.
he was shy, but the right amount of shy, i could tell he was starting to get more comfortable around me, which i liked.
matt pulls onto the highway, the car roaring as he accelerates.
i continue to work at my icecream cone, trying to stop the massive staring problem i’ve picked up.
matt’s playlist plays through the car, his knee bobbing up and down as he listens to it.
“you live down here right?” matt asks, pulling off the highway into a small neighbourhood.
“you remembered!” i grin,
“of course i did.” he speaks back, his tone light hearted.
“i’m just down here.” i say, pointing to a street sign.
he pulls into the street, his car slowing down as he scans the row of houses.
he parks the car in front of my house. swallowing lightly as he turns off the car.
“thank you- so much for tonight matt.” i say, my tongue darting out to lick my lips,
“yeah- yeah no problem..” he whispers,
“we should do it again soon.” i speak, matt nods.
“i’ll text you, okay?” he says, a nervous smile on his face.
“okay- yeah.” i grin, a undeniable tension building in the car…
i grab my purse and reach for the door, but matt clears his throat.
i look over my shoulder at him, he looks nervous as shit.
he reaches up and cups my jaw, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my flushed cheek.
he leans over the centre console and presses a kiss to my lips.
he pulls away pretty quickly, knowing this is the first date and we shouldn’t do any more… right?
but for some reason, the feeling of his lips on mine linger.
i stare at his lips, not moving.
i need more.
i know i’m going to have to initiate something, knowing he’s to shy to make a lot of moves.
“can- can we do that again?” i speak, my voice hoarse as i break the silence.
he nods instantly, his hands clenching by his sides.
i lean back over the centre console, grabbing his chin as i press my lips to his again.
my face heats up instantly, pure ecstasy flooding through my body.
he deepens the kiss, his head tilting to the side as our noses brush.
goosebumps cover my arms as his tongue slides over my lip, practically begging for entry.
i don’t know what comes over me, but in a matter of seconds i’m climbing over the seats,
i sit down on matt’s lap, straddling him as i break the kiss.
he stares up at me, his eyes wide and full of need.
he grabs the back of my head, instantly reconnecting our lips.
“fuck..” he whimpers against my lips,
i feel a familiar heat growing between my thighs, my skirt riding up my legs as i practically devour him with my lips.
he just tastes so, so good.
his hands paw at my waist, grabbing the fabric of my thin shirt as he holds me.
i subconsciously rock my hips against his thigh.
he gasps against my lips as i grind against his clothed thigh.
“oh my god..” i whisper against his lips as i pathetically rub myself against his leg.
i feel myself getting too into it, not wanting to rush him on the first date.
i break the kiss, the windows now foggy.
he looks up at me with pure desperation.
god he looks hot.
his lips are smeared with my red lipstick, the pigment messily coating his chin. his eyes are narrow and hungry, and his hands are gripping my waist, tight.
i reach up and wipe his lips, trying to remove the lipstick stains.
“i’ll- i’ll uh- okay- um-“ matt stammers,
“i’ll- i’ll text you.” he croaks out, his hands sinking into my waist.
“okay- okay.” i breathe,
i quickly crawl back over the centre console and grab my purse.
i look back at matt over my shoulder, his lips are puffy and red.
his hair is dishevelled, and as my eyes travel down his body.
he is most definitely hard.
i grin at him before swinging open the car door,
“b-bye- bye!” he calls out shakily,
“bye matt-!” i smile as i step out onto the footpath, shutting the car door behind me.
i jog up to my house, my heels clicking on the driveway.
i swing open my front door and suck in a well needed deep breath.
i walk over to my couch, and before i even have the time to sit down my phone vibrates frantically in my pocket.
5 new messages from - Matt
my eyes scan over the messages, which read.
“come back to the car”
“i seriously need you right now this isn’t funny”
“please”
“i’m still parked outside please”
“i’ll literally do anything.”
and before i know it, i’m rushing for my front door and running down the driveway towards matt’s car.
——-
@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnn n @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow w @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo larsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette e @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101saroona a @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72
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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 days ago
Text
Intoxication [S. R]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
wc: 9.2k
Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.
warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!
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It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.
However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.
The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.
“Hi”
“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.
I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.
“I was just about to leave, actually.”
“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.
“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”
“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.
I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.
Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.
She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.
“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.
“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”
“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”
“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.
“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like… fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”
I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?
“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”
I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:
“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”
I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.
“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”
I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.
“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”
She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.
I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.
There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.
“Tastes like… strawberry.”
“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.
Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.
Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.
On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.
Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.
“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”
She looked around with a slight smile.
“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”
“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”
“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”
She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.
“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”
She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.
I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.
“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.
I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.
“What is it?”
“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”
But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.
“You have to try it,” she moaned.
I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.
“Hey!”
“You’ll thank me later.”
It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.
After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.
Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.
I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.
She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.
We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.
She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.
The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.
My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.
By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.
“Sweetheart.”
“Hmm?”
“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”
“Of course.”
My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.
I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.
“You move well, Reid.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”
Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.
I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.
He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.
“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.
“Want a drink?”
“Honestly, no.”
By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.
Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.
“Sorry?”
“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”
“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”
“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”
“Sexy?”
“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”
Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.
“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”
My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”
Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.
“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”
She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.
“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”
My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.
“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.
“That makes sense.”
Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.
She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.
“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.
She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.
“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.
She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.
“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.
Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.
“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.
“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.
She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.
“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”
My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.
She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.
“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”
Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.
“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”
I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?
It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.
The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.
I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.
“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”
“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”
I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.
“Did you throw up?”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”
“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”
“I can take a cab.”
“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”
She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.
When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.
It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.
It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.
The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?
“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”
“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.
She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.
The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.
She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.
“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Quite a lot, actually.”
“We should do this more often.”
“Go to university parties?”
“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”
Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.
“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”
A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.
“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.
I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.
Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.
She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.
In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.
The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.
I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.
“You okay?”
“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”
“Let me check”
My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.
My choice of words wasn't the best either.
“You’re hot,”
“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”
A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.
“Why are you saying that?”
“Don’t you like it?”
“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”
A soft laugh echoed in my ears.
“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”
I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.
“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”
“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”
Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.
“Hey, Spencer.”
“Yes?”
“Could I kiss you?”
A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.
Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.
My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.
Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.
“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.
She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”
For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.
“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.
Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.
My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.
She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.
“Hey, wait…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you feel okay with this?”
“A lot. Do you want to stop?”
“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.
Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.
“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”
“No”
“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”
I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:
“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”
Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.
I wanted her too. I wanted her now.
“I never imagined…”
My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.
Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.
When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.
“Did that clear your doubts?”
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.
“Then stop overthinking”
The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?
But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.
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The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.
I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.
It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.
Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.
"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"
I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.
"Tell me”
"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."
"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"
Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.
Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.
Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.
Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.
Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.
Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.
I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.
My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.
Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?
I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.
“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"
“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”
“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”
Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.
I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.
I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.
“Take me to bed, please.”
He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.
Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?
Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.
Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.
“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”
My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.
I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.
"Sorry, I..."
“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.
"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”
A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.
"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."
"Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."
"No, it's not that."
I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.
"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."
"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."
“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”
Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.
"Where are you going?"
"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.
"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.
"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”
"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."
Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.
I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.
As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.
I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.
Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.
I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.
Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.
Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.
"Busy?"
I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.
“I guess you found what we need, right?”
“Uh-huh”
“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”
“Quite a few”
“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”
“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”
A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.
“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”
He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.
At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.
“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.
I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.
We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.
I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.
“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.
I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.
Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.
My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.
“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.
I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.
My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.
“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.
“Your wish is my command”
He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.
I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.
At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.
He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.
I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.
He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.
“Are you satisfied?”
“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”
“I'm speechless.”
I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.
We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.
“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”
I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.
“Do you mind lending it to me?”
“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.
When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.
“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”
“Yes, of course I want”
He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.
One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.
“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”
"Not much"
“Do you want me to get you some socks?”
“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”
“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”
“So you’re like a human blanket”
“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”
I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.
“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”
“Your guess is quite accurate.”
“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”
From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.
“I like you a lot”
“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.
It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.
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Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)
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woniedarlin · 2 days ago
Text
He listens while you yap
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pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope
caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)
author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!
permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n
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HEESEUNG
You explained an article you found earlier and made an especially interesting point. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence then glancing up at Heeseung.
He was just staring at you the entire time.
“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.
“I’m sorry,” you added. Feeling guilty.
Heeseung tilted his head slightly. His lips formed a gentle smile that quickly made you feel comfortable. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”
You blinked. For a moment, you were caught off guard by his words.. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”
He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”
“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased though you were shy with his words.
He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”
You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”
“Yup,” he said with a grin. Heeseung’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”
You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”
Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”
He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”
JAY
You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.
Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”
“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.
Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.
“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”
“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.
“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”
Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”
“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”
Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”
“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”
Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”
“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”
Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”
“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”
“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”
And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.
JAKE
You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”
Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.
“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.
You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”
“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”
Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”
Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”
You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”
He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”
Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”
Jake smirked. “You totally would.”
“I’d be saving both of us!”
“You’re hot,”
You froze. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said.
Of course, he had to flirt.
You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”
“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”
You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.
SUNGHOON
You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”
Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”
You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.
But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”
You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”
“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”
Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”
“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”
That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”
“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?
He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”
Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”
SUNOO
“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.
You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.
“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”
“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”
You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!
“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”
Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”
Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”
He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”
You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”
Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”
JUNGWON
You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.
“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”
Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.
You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.
“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”
He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.
“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”
You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”
He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”
You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”
“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”
“Well, someone had to say it!”
Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”
You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.
You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”
NI-KI
You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.
You raised an eyebrow. You do not want to back down. Especially to him. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”
“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”
You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”
Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”
“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”
Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.
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