#martin had to deal with so much

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[cult-of-the-eye]

One of the things I love about tma is the exploration of the illusion of freewill for Jon. His path was set, ever since he was a kid, ever since his encounter with A Guest For Mr Spider, he was chosen by Elias, not because he was special but because he was There. He tries to fight it pretty much every step of the way. He believes he has the power to change things, despite knowing deep down that he doesn't. And yet it ends how it ends. And I just. It echoes so beautifully into cPTSD and childhood trauma. We're marked from a young age, we're given the illusion of free will, that it was our fault that we got chosen to be hurt like that and therefore we couldve done something different to have stopped it from happening. The idea that we believed if we prayed hard enough, was a good enough person, avoided doing certain things, then it wouldnt have happened. Which then turns to the realisation that we didn't get chosen to be hurt because of some specific reason, we were just There. We are led to believe that due to this event or circumstance, our life has been set for us, one of misery and loneliness and pain. And although tma is a tragedy and it therefore ends tragically, which is unfortunately the reality for some of us, it also shows us that things were important along the way. Just as Jon is loved by Martin (and the fandom), we also have the chance to be loved. Just as Jon's coworkers sing hin happy birthday and Tim does finger guns at Martin and Georgie goes out to eat Hungarian food, we'll have little moments of peace. They mattered. And so do we.

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

Hi hello have this somewhat old Jonmartin kids concept ideas while I try not to die

[canichangemyblogname]

*grabs popcorn* why did you tag 'the writing did her so dirty' re: taylor kelly?

I finally found the words for this answer. For me, it has everything to do with the way she was written in 5A as if they were domesticating her, partially at the expense of what really made her an interesting character. I’d like to have seen her as that girl everyone loves to hate, but for the right reasons. “She’s a bitch.” Yes, and? “She hurt all these people.” Yes, and? Also… and this is just fan-canon, not something that I think the show would’ve (or could’ve) done, but pansexual Taylor in an established relationship with a woman is my absolute favorite 🫶.

Like… I hate to give buddie fans any points because most of them are committed to misrepresenting the point and a scene, but the whole “if Eddie were a girl, they’d have kissed already” held a bit of water during the Buck x Taylor era, but not because Buck and Eddie are queercoded, but because Buck x Taylor had the same vibe as “two people who met through work and only really have work in common, but dated anyway.” The two of them talked about their work lives more than any couple on the show. I feared that if either of them had a change of job, they’d cease to have anything to talk about, which *would* be the case for two people who are co-worker adjacent, but shouldn’t be the case for a couple. IMHO, Buck x Taylor wasn’t a result of Buck’s comp het, but societal comp het. They also—as I mentioned previously—seemed to stifle a bit of Taylor’s passionate, ambitious, career-above-everything characterization for a little bit there in 5A, and she kinda simply became Buck’s GF. There was a degree of domestication for her character there, and I hated that for her. 

Also… 911 honest opinion? I think Buck and Ali should have had a longer arc. 🫣 More on that below:

It really seemed like they had been narratively setting something up between Buck and Ali, given how the show paralleled Buck + Ali and Maddie + Chim with that one outro monologue about how sometimes the best things start with second chances. Because that monologue that introduced us to Buck x Ali had been all about “second chances,” I genuinely had assumed that she was coming back and that they’d work out their issues. Their relationship also felt narratively weighty because of *why* Buck chose to date her. He had a choice between old habits (re: Taylor Kelly) or making his happiness (re: the Buck Actually theme). They also chose an apartment together. Plus, their “break up” did not feel very final. Something about it felt unresolved.

Cast contracts permitting, if *I* had been on this project, I would have written Buck & Ali as tentatively working on their differences post-injury. When their relationship does end, I’d explore the concept that sometimes, genuinely liking one another—or love—is not enough (which I think would have been great to explore after the Daniel reveal, as love was not enough for a happy Buckley household). Ali & Buck may have progressed past health scares and job fears, but find themselves on two different paths in life (with her job and dreams taking her one way and his keeping him at the 118). Here we could also incorporate Buck’s Big Mistake™️ that we saw in his relationship with Taylor: keeping/hiding things from his partner and overcompensating for that out of guilt to keep the relationship. Maybe that something is family related (re: Daniel) or maybe job related (revisit old wounds that weren’t actually healed during the sniper arc, an emergency he expressly doesn’t tell Ali about for fear of her reaction). Hell, it could be Taylor-related (with Taylor, someone he has a previous dynamic with, “being Lucy” in this situation), if you really want, although I’m personally disinclined to taking this hypothetical story in that direction (mostly because I hate cheating arcs, but also because I think Buck and Taylor work better as friends).

I also think Buck could have still grown into the person he is now through this hypothetical of events instead of through shorter-term relationships.  Reasons I think this turn of events could have also worked for Buck’s growth:

We would still get Buck 3.0 seeking out therapy after being crushed, being dumped, and being assigned desk duty. Maddie points out that he’s not handling it well, and he takes it upon himself to do something about that, just like in canon. Maybe later in that season or early next, we find out that Ali had reached out, and Buck reaches back out to her following his conversation with Abby and some therapy, not wanting to leave things unsaid and knowing he hides his true feelings from people. Maybe he tells Ali about him wanting to work on himself and start again. This means that, yes, he’d spend season 3 single before getting back together in early season 4 to “try again” and “see where it goes.”

However, Buck will still be lonely at this time, now essentially having bought into the comp-het idea that part of the reason for our loneliness is not being partnered (just like in canon, but he’d be partnered instead of single during this). If work or a difference in life pulls Buck and Ali apart, we’d still get Buck dealing with this gaping loneliness. It’d be less of a “He hasn’t put himself out there since Abby” and more a “He’s in a relationship and still feels alone.” Maddie and Chim invite Josh to poker night not because of Buck’s “tragic singleness,” but because Ali couldn’t come (which means we still get everyone’s favorite Buck x Josh joke). The scene will lay the ground for the relationship issues he’ll run into in late 4B. Something like, “Buck never gets out of the house” or “He has a girlfriend, but no one would know,” while Josh tells him to be glad he’s got someone because it’s “rough out there” (all while still foreshadowing Josh’s later gay bashing that episode). And this hints at an element of compulsory heterosexuality to this scenario: Buck doesn’t just feel the need to make the relationship work because he wants to be there for people, but because he feels a need to be partnered. His parents are visiting and they’re always disappointed in him, but they’ve met Ali and they’re happy Buck’s partnered. So, he stays. He reads the love languages book (absolutely quackery of a theory, imho) for some ideas on relationship growth and making it work and he stays. He expresses that he really wants this relationship to be successful and meaningful (and that’s why he’s trying the self-help book), and he stays. But maybe we get the Buck equivalent of “my relationship feels like a performance.” Maybe Buck expresses some discomfort with what are essentially traditional aspects/dynamics of het relationships (something the 5 love languages is centered around). Things like, “I want to provide, but I also want to be taken care of.” We’ll also get a few scenes that suggest he and Ali don’t know each other well (like not knowing what to get each other for special occasions, and some conversations between Buck and Bobby). But, otherwise, Buck & Ali’s interactions with one another are sweet and romantic. He goes on a successful date with Ali instead of Monica. He also goes on a successful double-date with Monica x Albert, with Ali as his gf. Ali’s genuine affection for Buck really shines when Buck runs into his season 4 family issues, and she gets along with everyone in Buck’s life, including Maddie, Chim and Albert, and even his parents. Their personal lives will seem to go strong because it’s the way their work lives interfere with their personal lives that will drive the wedge between them. Red’s warning about being too consumed by the job and how hard this is to compete with swirl around in Buck’s head the whole relationship. Buck fears that much like Red, he’ll never be able to make it work.

Eventually, however, we would get Buck figuring out that he doesn’t have to stay with someone just to stay with someone. (“I’m not happy. And if this isn’t a healthy relationship, then maybe the best thing for me to do is be the one who leaves.”) So, in early 4B when issues he thought they’d worked through rise again and maybe Ali discovers that Buck’s keeping something from her (I’m leaning toward him purposefully keeping aspects of his job from her, like not telling her about the sniper [among other things], once more revealing how Buck puts other’s comfort above his personal life and happiness and again reinforcing the idea that Buck’s career is too “consuming” and too “dangerous” for some partners, but also revealing that he doesn’t trust Ali not to run again -> but this leads Ali to not trust that Buck won’t keep important things from her and also leads her to realize that he will ice her out of important parts of his life), Buck decides, “I do like you, but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He then spends all of season 5 single, and it would be cool to see a “I’m working on myself, I want to be single” storyline, which would factor well into his further self-improvement arc during the interim-Captain storyline. He will then still meet Natalia in season 6 and they’ll be drawn together and apart for many of the same reasons as in canon.

But crucially, this means that I’d have kept Buck and Taylor friends in seasons 4 & 5 because 1.) I think the men of 911 do not have enough women in their life platonically outside blood relations, 2.) I found their dynamic *before* they started dating much more compelling, and 3.) them making Taylor Buck’s GF seemed to stifle her character a little, so she was less the ambitious, passionate reporter and more just… a sweet girl. In my hypothetical, she’s still there in seasons 4-5, and ever the go-getting reporter. Maybe she has less screen time, but she’s still there. Many of the work-related scenes between her and Buck would and could (and should) remain. Anything related to investigations and her reporting would absolutely stay. I think that Taylor could neatly fit into a similar role that Josh does with Maddie. She’s blunt, no holds barred. He tells her about his family, roommate, and relationship issues in S4, and she always gives him the tough answer. She confides in him when the pandemic becomes too much. They team up for the hit-n-run investigation and the treasure hunt (Ali also joins them). She is his friend—and maybe one of the only ones outside the 118 family— who is there when his best friend, Eddie, gets shot (but clearly—and crucially—not in the same way Maddie is there for Chim or Karen is there for Hen because she’s *not* Buck’s GF or a potential LI, and also not in the same way that Ali is *not* there for Buck, given Buck goes to lengths to hide this development from Ali, like putting on his vest in secret). She is still hard on him for his “neediness” and “impulsivity.”

IMHO—not too much changes between them. There’d be fewer scenes between them, sure. They wouldn’t kiss. Some of their more emotional conversations would be less couple-y, like the coffee date where he talks about his family. (And I personally love the idea that this whole time they’re friends, Taylor is dating a woman and Buck has met this woman or heard about her, but that is, again, just fan-canon.) Also, we’d miss that scene of Taylor in her black lingerie (sorry lesbians) and Buck in that grey A-line Tee (sorry to me), but not much is otherwise changing. Hell, even the way things eventually break down doesn’t need to change (minus the issue with Buck asking Taylor to move in after he and Lucy kissed). Buck will still learn that he can’t fix everything because Taylor will still prioritize her career over her friendship. Plus, a friendship crashing and burning is its own beast, and one that would teach Buck that it’s not just in his romantic relationships that he gives too much of himself. (Cough, cough, a lesson he could learn with Eddie.)

Also, with this breakdown coming so soon after breaking things off with his gf, his best friend damn near dying, and his sister running away, Buck will go to lengths to try and fix the issues in his friendship, lengths like going to Oklahoma to support her (a trip where he meets her GF in my fan-canon). He wasn’t enough to inspire Abby to stay. He couldn’t make it work with Ali. Eddie fucking got shot. Maddie’s run away. And now a difference in world views has put him and a friend at odds with each other (something that *seems* fixable). So, he’ll try his damndest to fix things, desperately wanting this to work out as everything else goes haywire. “I can’t lose a friend, too.” “You were there for me after Eddie got shot, I want to be here for you now.” “Everything else is a mess; I want to help where I’m needed.” No more losing people. Except, it doesn’t work. Meaning, Buck would still come to understand himself and his localized view of himself relative to others vs. Taylor’s more universal view of herself as their friendship falls apart.

This also all still leaves Tommy to be different compared to Buck’s past romantic relationships, most of which happened on his partner’s terms rather than his own. It also still leaves Taylor in the series and her impact on Buck remains without half-nuking her character. Buck also maintains much of his character growth, as I will always maintain that Taylor was very important to Buck’s character growth.

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

I am going to make it thru this week even if it kills me I am GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THIS WEEK REALLY IM going to make it through this week

[shoot-i-messed-up]

OH MY GOD I GOT IT.

His superhero name is Superflare, and his epithet is Emerald Sun (like how one of Superman’s is “Last Son of Krypton” and one of Hal’s is the “Emerald Knight”).

“flare” because when Superman joins the Justice League in JLA: Year One, he says this:

Superlantern kid called Emerald Sun send tweet

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (45/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started - part two.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, slight jealousy

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: happy two-chapter-week! I miss F1 already and I'm in denial that we have to wait so long. feedback is appreciated!

You have never seen so many buttons in your life. 

Levers, switches, buttons and knobs, all of which certainly have different meanings, but as you stand next to Martin on the stage, you can't imagine what each one of them is for. 

The DJ taps you on the shoulder and takes one earcup of his headphones off his ears before pointing to the DJ booth. “When I give you the sign, press this one, okay?”

You pull the headphones down before looking a little confused from him to the button in question. ”This one?” 

Without hesitation, Martin grabs your hand and guides it to the button you are about to press. Unlike Charles's skin on yours, his feels somehow wrong. You suppress the urge to pull your hand away. 

You gently place your finger on the button and wait for his signal. Through the DJ booth, you feel the vibration of the music in your body, the bass in your bones, and as you look out over the crowd, you see your friends in front of you on the dance floor. Kika smiles at you and holds out her cocktail glass as if to toast with you. 

When you look at Charles, you see that his eyes are fixed on Martin. Without blinking, he looks at him before noticing your gaze and smiling at you briefly and coldly before leaving the group and disappearing towards the bar. Pierre looks up at you briefly before following his buddy. 

“Are you ready?” Martin smiles at you, and when you put your headphones back on, you give him a thumbs up. He counts down the seconds with his fingers before pointing at you, and when you press the button in front of you, the bass drops and the crowd cheers. Hidden cannons shoot confetti into the air, silver and black paper shreds fly through the room and stick to the sweaty bodies of the party guests, while Martin – with your help – gets the party pumped up. 

With pure talent and impressive precision, Martin pushes levers up and down, turns volume controls and boosts the bass so that you can literally feel the music vibrating in your bones. 

And it feels fantastic.

With your headphones on and your cocktail glass in hand, you dance next to him on the podium, enjoying the music and the atmosphere, but when you open your eyes, you can't help but scan the room for Charles. 

There are a lot of people at the bar and you think you see Pierre's head somewhere in between, but when you think you feel Charles's gaze on you and meet his eyes, the feeling disappears again. You stretch and yank, but the only thing you can see are dancing and laughing people having the time of their lives. 

Someone nudges you from the side and when you turn around, Kika and Elena are standing next to you. The Portuguese woman grabs your headphones before putting them on and then sticks her thumb up – even though she's definitely too drunk to notice a difference. 

You lean a little towards Elena. “How much has she had to drink?” you grin, nodding at your best friend, who is now staring at the DJ booth with as much concentration as possible, repeatedly reaching out to press one of the buttons, but Martin keeps slapping her hand lightly to stop her from ruining his gig. 

“Since you came up here – two cocktails and a shot, I think,” Elena replies, looking past you towards Kika. ”I told Pierre to get her a glass of water from the bar. But I don't know if he'll actually do it.”

You purse your lips. “I think Lando would knock the glass of water out of his hand.” Confused, you look around. “Where is he, anyway?”

Elena shrugs. “He wanted to make a quick phone call or something. He just got a call and immediately disappeared outside. He even left his glass behind,” she explains and puts Lando's drink down next to Martin's desk before taking a pull on her own straw, earning a dirty look from the DJ. Apparently, he's afraid that Lando's glass will tip over and break his expensive equipment. “Apparently, it was very important. Anyway, he jumped up as if he'd been stung by a tarantula.”

You try to hide your curiosity, but the alcohol in your blood thwarts your plans. “Do you know who called?” you ask her loudly enough for her but not for anyone else to hear. 

“I just glanced at the screen when it was on the table and then it lit up,” she replies, taking another sip of her drink. ”I think it was one of his Formula 1 buddies. But I couldn't see it clearly.”

You are about to say something when Kika throws her arms around your neck and almost spills her cocktail on your beautiful dress. One of her arms is around your shoulders and pulls you so close to her that you can feel her warm breath on your skin. You gently kiss her on the temple. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

The young woman nods and grins at you. “Are you having fun?” she asks, leaning against you so that you have to support her. 

“I am,” you reply and reach for her glass to take it from her. You take a sip of her cocktail. ‘Do you want some water?’ you ask her, but Kika shakes her head vehemently. You have to laugh. ”Water isn't poisonous. And I don't think a glass would hurt you.”

“Boooooooo,” Kika utters, trying to take her glass back, but you successfully keep it out of her reach. ”All right. One glass of water. But only because otherwise I'll get in trouble with Pierre tomorrow when I complain about a heavy hangover.”

You nod and lovingly hand her over to Elena, who smiles at you. “I'll take care of her. She won't destroy Martin's setup.‘ She glances at the DJ before turning back to you. "I think he'd kill us all if we poured Piña Colada over his mixer.”

You glance past her. Martin seems completely absorbed and focused on his music. When he glances in your direction, he smiles at you and points to his desk, as if to ask you to join him again. But you shake your head slightly and raise your hand to your mouth, thumb and pinkie extended. Then you leave the podium. 

Although the club is not too big and the distance from your friends to the bar is not too far, you feel like the few steps are taking forever. With your shoulders hunched, you push through the crowd, squeezing between sweaty, dancing people, until the crowd thins out and you can take a deep breath. You quickly run your fingers through your hair, which is stuck to the back of your neck, and then approach the bar. 

“Four glasses of water, please,” you order from the attractive bartender, drumming your fingers on the marble slab in front of you until someone leans against your left side.

“I hope one of the glasses is for Kika,” Pierre smiles at you and takes two of the glasses from the bartender. ”Sometimes she forgets that she's human and will have a bad hangover if she doesn't drink water from time to time.”

You nod gratefully at the woman behind the bar and reach for the water too. “Then it's a good thing that two of the glasses are for your girlfriend then,” you reply. You look around. “Where is Charles? I thought you went to the bar together.”

The Frenchman nods. “We did. After we both had two shots, he wanted to go out for a bit of fresh air. Take a deep breath and all that,” he explains. As you are about to take a step forward, he raises his arm to gently hold you back. 

You look at him, confused. “Are you okay?”

“He likes you,” Pierre says. When you look at him confused, he smiles at you and gently puts an arm around your shoulders, careful not to spill the water on your dress. "I've never seen Charles so happy. And never so... open?" He leans his head against yours briefly.

A little unsure, you smile at him. “What exactly do you mean?”

Pierre purses his lips. 'With Annika, he was so stiff and somehow the relationship never seemed real, although I think he really liked her. And from the outside, everything always seemed perfect. They always had perfect photos for Instagram, totally staged, and if you knew Charles personally, you knew that something was wrong. And in the end, it was.”

While the two of you make your way back through the crowd to your friends, you can't help but continue to investigate. “How – well – did you like her? Annika, I mean?”

Pierre pushes you past two girls who are jumping up and down wildly. ”I guess you mean before she cheated on Charles?”

“Um – yes.”

Kika's boyfriend shakes his head. “I just had a bad feeling about her. Until they broke up, nothing ever happened that would have justified that lousy feeling. She was always friendly and easy to talk to. But – well. It seems my feeling wasn't wrong.”

You smile at him. “Apparently you have a good sense of people. Charles is lucky to have someone like you by his side.”

“That's for sure,“ he grins. ”But I think he still likes you best by his side. Anyway, you can see how happy he is since you've been with him. And he's genuinely happy. Not that fake, put-on happiness.” He lets you go ahead as you both climb the stairs to the platform. 

Once at the top, you wait for him. ��Do you think so?”

“Anyone who sees it differently is either stupid or blind. The whole time we were getting the pizza and he was looking for a dress for you, he couldn't stop talking about you. If I didn't like you both so much, I would have told him to shut up,” Pierre laughs. 

“Who should shut up?” Kika and Elena join you. The Portuguese woman leans with her whole body against her boyfriend, who holds the water glass to her lips so that she can drink from it. She empties it within seconds.

“Nobody should shut up,” you reply and take a sip of water as well, passing one to Elena, who accepts it with a smile. 

Pierre rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. "I just told her that Charles can't stop talking about her and that it would be annoying if the two weren't our friends,’ he explains, kissing his girlfriend on the temple. 

“That's not annoying,” Kika grins before looking at you. However, her words are directed at Pierre. ‘If only they would talk to each other as much as they talk to us about each other, then we wouldn't be the only couple in this group of friends.”

With wide-open eyes, you stare at her in outrage. ’Kika!”

“I'm sorry!” she apologizes, but she definitely doesn't mean it. She breaks away from the Frenchman and gives you a big hug. ‘I just want what's best for you. And I'm sure that Charles is what's best for you. And if you need time to find each other, then that's that,’ she smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek. “And when the time comes, I'll pop the champagne corks and be the flower girl at your wedding.”

You laugh and throw your head back. Even if you tried, you could never stay mad at Kika for long. “Flower girl? I thought you'd be my maid of honor, no?”

She grins at you like a little kid who has just been given permission to raid a candy store. “That's even better!” She throws herself completely into your arms, almost making you drop your water glass. “I'll be the best maid of honor ever! This is going to be so cool!”

“Cherié, I think you're forgetting that she's not even engaged yet, let alone in a committed relationship,” Pierre reminds the pretty Portuguese woman. "It's going to be a while before she actually gets married.”

She turns her head to her boyfriend with a nasty look. ’And even if it takes a thousand years – I'll. be. the. maid. of. honor.”

You look at her pursing your lips. “I hope it doesn't actually take a thousand years for me to get married.”

“Should I tell Charles to hurry up with the proposal?” Pierre grins, and you give him the middle finger, grinning. 

“What should I hurry with?” As you turn around, Charles is standing in front of you. In his hands, he is holding a tray with a few shot glasses filled with red or green liquid. All heads turn to him, but no one says anything. The Monegasque raises his eyebrows. "What should I hurry with?", he repeats, visibly confused. 

“With the drinks!” Elena breaks the silence of the group and walks smiling to him to free him from the tray. Without spilling a single glass, she takes it out of his hand and walks around it so that everyone can take one. When she stops in front of Kika and you, she grins and pushes her water glass into your best friend's hand. ”This drink is especially for you.”

Kika sniffs at the glass with shining eyes. “What is it?”

“Skinny Bitch. Vodka with soda,” explains Elena, holding out the tray so you can take a shot glass of it. She leans forward a little towards you and out of the corner of your eye you can see Kika looking suspiciously at the drink in her hand. “Just without the vodka.”

Martin, who was just standing at the DJ booth, rejoins you and stands next to you, one arm around your shoulders, and grabs one of the small glasses as well. You don't need to look in Charles' direction to know that his gaze darkens a shade. “Have any of you seen Lando? He was about to go to the DJ booth too.”

“I'm here!” The young guy from Britain is jogging up the steps to the podium and stops next to Charles. His cheeks are red and the shirt, which was just tucked into his trousers, is now hanging off his shoulders with another two buttons undone. ‘Have I missed something?’ He looks briefly from Charles to you and Martin before running his hand through his curly hair. “All right, party poopers.” He also takes a glass from Elena's tray. ”Let's get this party started!”

After the group has downed their shots – and Kika, her not-so-skinny-bitch – Martin pulls you back to the DJ booth with Lando in tow. You glance over your shoulder and see your roommate clenching his jaw as Pierre grabs him by the shoulder and starts a conversation with him. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asks you as you take your seats next to Martin. He grabs the abandoned headphones and hands one to you. 

You put it on your head. “Um – yes, I think so.” You suppress the urge to turn back to the rest of your group of friends. “Where were you?” you counter with a question of your own to change the subject. 

Your friend can't suppress the smile that creeps across his face. “I was just on the phone,” he replies, avoiding eye contact with you, but the tips of his ears turn red – and it's definitely not because of the alcohol or the warmth in the club. 

You bite your lip. “On the phone? With whom?”

“Not important.” He takes a deep breath before looking at you. "And what about you? Have you danced with Charles yet?" You open your mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. The Brit has to laugh. “The man buys you a beautiful dress in which you look incredibly stunning, and he puts on a complementary shirt so that you both show up here in matching outfits – yes, I noticed – and then you don't dance with each other? Do I have to force you to do that or –”

“I can't dance with him if I'm constantly being pulled away by my friends to either get drinks at the bar or to press buttons that I don't even know what they do.” You raise an eyebrow and nod in the direction of Martin, who is absorbed in the music again. 

“Shall I show you which button does what?“ your buddy asks you, but you shake your head. 

“I'm fine. I think I'm more of a listener than a composer,” you smile, leaning against Lando as he puts his arm around your shoulder. 

“You seem to be pushing Charles' buttons, that's for sure. He keeps staring at you like he wants to either eat you up right away or take you home.” His eyes flicker past your face towards Charles, but somehow you don't dare to follow his gaze. 

“Lando...”

“You know I'm right. Even if you're afraid of it,” he smiles at you and nudges you in the side. ‘Why are you hesitating? It's obvious that you both want each other.”

You shrug your shoulders and look at your shoes. ’He's my best friend. And I don't want to lose him.”

“Do you really think you would lose him if you told him how you feel?”

“To be honest – I don't want to risk it,” you admit. ”He's the most important person in my life. And if friendship – or whatever it is between us – is all I get from him, then that's it. I've already come to terms with that.”

He purses his lips. “That's the saddest thing I've ever heard.” He leans his head against yours, but pulls it away immediately when Charles joins you. “Speak of the devil,” he says just for you to hear, and steps closer to Martin to give you some privacy. 

Charles stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist. His cheeks are red and warm and a few brown strands of hair are stuck to his forehead. Beautiful. “Hi.”

You smile at him. ”Hi back.”

“Are you okay? I feel like I've barely seen you since we entered the club.” He gently pulls you closer so you can rest your head on his shoulder. ”I missed you.”

His words make your heart beat faster. “I'm sorry about that,” you reply. “I was just dragged along and had to play DJ even though I have no idea how to.”

Your roommate smiles at you. “We haven't even danced together.” His other hand also rests on your hip, positioning himself behind you. His chin rests on your shoulder and you feel his breath on your skin. “You're only here with Martin all the time.”

You giggle slightly as his beard brushes your neck. ”Are you jealous?” 

He presses a fleeting kiss on the hollow between your neck and shoulder. “Me, jealous? Never.”

Just as you want to remind him that he was recently jealous of the friendship between you and Lando and even admitted it under purple skies, Lando waves you both over to him. Hesitantly, you separate from each other and join them, but like magnets you find each other again; Charles' chest against your back and his hand on your hip. 

“Do you have a song request?” Lando asks, pointing to the mixing desk. ‘Martin's letting me use it and I thought I might be able to do you both a favor,’ he grins, and when his eyes flicker over to you, you would like to pour Kika's not-so-skinny-bitch into his face. 

You're about to shake your head when Charles breaks away from you to express his wish to Lando. His hand remains on your hip as Martin makes room for Lando and moves to your other side. 

He smiles at you and then points from you to Charles. “You two seem to get along very well.” You nod in agreement. “But you're not together.”

You shake your head. “Like Charles already said – we are best friends,” you repeat the words of the Monegasque, who suddenly turns his head jerkily in your direction. 

The warm smile has suddenly vanished from his face and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, which you can't place. His hand on your hip tightens a little. 

“Well, I wanted to ask you if you...“ the DJ begins his sentence, but before he can finish it, Charles pulls you back to him. 

“I think we're going home now,” your roommate announces and says goodbye to his friends without further ado. However, he doesn't give a reasonable reason. 

Lando looks at you both with confusion, but his expression quickly changes to a grin when he realizes why Charles wants to go home. “Have a safe trip home.” He puts on his headphones and changes the song to Charles' request. 

Your roommate pulls you towards the exit so quickly that you just barely have time to wish Kika, Pierre and Elena a pleasant evening – thanks to the water, Kika is on her way to a headache-free morning – before Charles grabs you and pushes you forward like a man possessed. 

“Charles, what?”

“Best friend,” he repeats your words with a murmur. ”I'll show you what a best friend I can be.”

It's only when you reach the exit that you notice that Talking Body by Tove Lo is playing.

[theemporium]

[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)

part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow

.

It happened in Amsterdam. 

With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained. 

Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long. 

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation. 

After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.

And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting. 

But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.

It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.

“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”

Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?” 

“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”

He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”

“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car. 

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully. 

So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life. 

“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”

“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”

“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.

“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”

“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.” 

The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie. 

Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window. 

It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in. 

But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside. 

“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”

And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.

But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.

People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise. 

He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted. 

His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember. 

It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.

Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place. 

There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room. 

The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected. 

And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation. 

“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas. 

He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned. 

Oscar raised his brows. 

“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”

“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”

Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”

“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.

And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more. 

He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.

And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?

It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement. 

Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone. 

But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.

And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.

Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress. 

“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage. 

“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.” 

“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”

“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him. 

Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was. 

“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”

“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted. 

“No.”

Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”

Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.

“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you. 

“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.” 

Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response. 

And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation. 

It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop. 

Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed. 

He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits. 

“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”

A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat. 

Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive. 

He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them. 

Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.” 

But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you. 

Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.

“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”

Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”

He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”

You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?” 

“Maybe.”

You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”

His smirk widened. “Both.” 

“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.

“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.

“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.” 

Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.

“You gonna listen to me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Gonna do what I say?”

He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”

And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.

His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder. 

He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke. 

“Fuck!” 

Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints. 

Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips. 

Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs. 

A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come. 

But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him. 

He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him. 

And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him. 

And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock. 

It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen. 

“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?” 

You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying. 

“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?” 

The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know. 

“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?” 

You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers. 

“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made. 

And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room. 

He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive. 

“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both. 

There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended. 

You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed. 

.

[matan4il]

An incomplete "there's a good chance the icon you love and support is a Zionist" list

🌟 Raphael Lemkin, a Jewish Holocaust survivor, whose family was murdered during it. Lemkin is responsible for coining the term "genocide," and for every legal provision that exists today against it. His work against genocide was inspired by his Zionism.

🌟 Martin Luther King, Jr., who did not only support Israel and its right to security, a fellow participant at a dinner with MLK shortly before his assassination quotes him as having stopped a student attacking Zionism, and replied, "When people criticize Zionists, they mean Jews. You’re talking antisemitism." He also encouraged Americans in 1967 to support the Jewish state, as Egypt blockaded the Straits of Tiran, endangering Israeli citizens by cutting the country off from its oil supply.

🌟 Emma Lazarus, a Jewish American poet, whose words ("Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free") are engraved on the Statue of Liberty's pedestal, after they helped raise the money needed for its completion. Drawing from the value of Jewish solidarity, she also wrote, "Until we are all free, we are none of us free," adopted as a slogan by intersectionality (while many in the movement exclude Jews from it). She was a great supporter of establishing a state for Jews in the Jewish homeland, having argued for this idea years before the word "Zionist" was even coined.

🌟 The 14th Dalai Lama, the leader of the fight against the occupation of Tibet, who was invited in 1994 to Israel, at a time when China's communist regime did its best to prevent his visits anywhere in the world, and who came to Israel more than once, talking about the 2000 years long Zionism of Jewish culture in exile as an inspiration and role model for Tibetans. "Among Tibetan refugees, we are always saying to ourselves that we must learn the Jewish secret to keep our traditions, in some cases under hostile circumstances."

🌟 Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who spoke more than once about how her pursuit of justice is a continuation of that very same thing in Jewish tradition. She had repeatedly referred to American Zionist Jews as sources of inspiration. For example, in 2018, during her fifth visit to Israel, in a speech she gave when receiving the Genesis Award, she mentioned two such women, Emma Lazarus and Henrietta Szold.

🌟 Nelson Mandela had an ambivalent view of Israel, but repeatedly recognized its right to exist, which makes him a Zionist, he also called upon Arab states to do the same, and was favorable towards the Zionist Jews who supported him during his underground days. Mandela being critical of Israel and still a Zionist is an apt reminder that criticizing the Jewish state and opposing its very existence are NOT the same thing, and only one's antisemitic.

🌟 Felix Salten, the Jewish author of Bambi (the book Disney's movie is based on). The tale was originally a metaphor for Jews suffering antisemitism, something Salten personally had to cope with. He was also an ardent Zionist, feeling the self-liberation at the core of this ideology suited his idea of how to deal with Jew hatred.

🌟 Sun Yat-Sen, who helped end the rule of China's last imperial dynasty, was its first provisional president, and is nowadays honored as an important Chinese leader in both China and Taiwan (sometimes referred to as "Father of the Chinese Nation"). He was an enthusiastic supporter of Zionism. Among other instances of expressing that, he wrote in a 1920 letter to a leader of the Jewish community in Shang Hai about Zionism that it is, "one of the greatest movements of the present time. All lovers of Democracy cannot help but support wholeheartedly and welcome with enthusiasm the movement to restore your wonderful and historic nation, which has contributed so much to the civilization of the world and which rightfully deserves an honorable place in the family of nations."

🌟 Magnus Hirschfeld, a gay Jewish sexologist, nicknamed among other things "The Einstein of Sex" and "The Father of Gay Liberation," because his medical and scientific work on human sexuality, as well as social advocacy for women's, gay and trans rights, was nothing short of pioneering. He was persecuted by the Nazis to the point where he died in exile. They broke into his institute of sexual research, where the world's first clinic performing sex reassignments surgeries was located, and burned down the institute's library. Hirschfeld had attended a Zionist conference following the Balfor Declaration of 1917, and his work on sexual liberation found inspiration in young socialist Jewish Zionist workers he met during a visit to the Land of Israel in 1931-2.

🌟 Marcia Langton, a professor and prominent Aboriginal rights activist from Australia, who has been leading the fight against racism and for her community. She spoke out against the hijacking of native rights movements by terrorist sympathizers and antisemites, and has clearly stood against all loss of life, including that of Israelis.

🌟 Felix Zandman, a Holocaust survivor whose work on resistors is integrated into many smartphones, laptops, cars, satellites, hospital ventilators (saving many Covid patients), airplanes and more. Whenever the anti-Israel crowd is scrolling social media on their phones, they're enjoying the work of a Zionist, who enthusiastically supported the State of Israel, and even introduced an important improvement to the Israeli Merkava tank, which has likely saved many Israeli lives, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, and others like him, since Israel's high tech is considered only second to Silicon Valley (going back to at least the 1990's). If they truly wish to boycott everything that's been "contaminated" by Zionism, they should probably just boycott technology.

🌟 Rosa Parks, an African American leader of the civil rights movement (and someone who personally demonstrated how one can resist without turning violent). She was one of 200 notable black American leaders who publicly organized to express their support and respect of Zionism as the Jewish right to self-determination, and Israel as the manifestation of that right.

-> Like I said, this is VERY incomplete, even just in terms of how the overwhelming majority of Jews are Zionist, and have been since the inception of Judaism, which is itself Zionist. Over the years, this led to many non-Jewish human and native rights champions to be supportive of Zionism, too. Take note of who is being vilified, when the term "Zionist" is ignorantly used as if it means anything other than belief in the equal right of Jews to liberation and self-determination in the Jewish ancestral land. Especially when it is used as being inherently evil.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[xogiulianna]

THAT'S ALL YOU, BABY

hamzah's too busy to help you out.

"god.." you hear grumbling coming from the corner of your room, where your boyfriend's sat at his desk. "fuckin'.. stupid shit.."

you sit up, your gaze landing on hamzah's face, illuminated by the bright white glow of his computer screen. the clack of keys is loud in the quiet atmosphere of the dark bedroom, and if you squint, you're able to make out the thumbnails of numerous video clips on his screen.

you've been waiting for him to come to bed for hours - you were restless, and you began to toss and turn as he deals with editing a new video, one that he was hell-bent on finishing tonight.

hamzah hears the rustling of the comforter, his head whirling around to see you staring over at him. "shit.." he murmurs. "sorry, baby. i'm almost done, i promise."

"s'fine," you mumble, flinging the sheets to the side, dragging yourself out of bed and walking over to where he's slumped in his desk chair. "what's taking so long?"

"martin," he sighs, sliding his glasses off the bridge of his nose, setting them down before rubbing his temples. "he was supposed to help me out with this, but he's not responding."

"oh," you mutter, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "you want company?" i ask, my voice low in his ear.

he peers at you, tilting his head back. "sure," he says, somewhat hesitantly, like he's reading your mind - seeing right through you, knowing that you want something.

you grab the armrest of his chair, swiveling it toward you. his eyes meet yours with an accusatory look underneath his dark lashes as you stand over him.

"what?" you ask innocently, a scoff escaping your lips as you slowly place yourself on top of his thigh, your legs folded up on either side of his leg. your body fits against his like a puzzle piece in the cushioned desk chair.

you can sense that he's already onto you, he just knows you that well.

"what're you doin'?" he whispers, resting his hands on top of your thighs, his middle finger tracing small circles against your skin.

"nothin'." you respond simply, reaching behind you to grab his glasses off the desk and slide them back onto his face, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "keep working."

"mm." he hums, obviously not believing you. he turns the chair back toward his desk anyway, scooting in and reaching around your body to keep clicking around the editing program.

you keep still for a few minutes, letting him edit while you cling to him. as you rest your head on his shoulder, you grow more impatient with each passing moment. the close proximity you placed on your bodies only weakens your grasp on your self control.

the truth is - you and hamzah haven't had sex in two weeks. his work stole away entirely too much time, he was constantly filming and working on projects, especially with the upcoming christmas series that he had planned for his channel. you had a job of your own, too, which was an entirely different story.

you two also have been hosting people at your apartment for the holidays. your friends - as well as his - have constantly been visiting and using your home as a place to crash for the night.

between all of this, you didn’t get much time alone with your boyfriend. your schedules just didn’t align, and when they did, you only made plans that involved other people.

point being, you had some pent up feelings, naturally.

suddenly, a groan in your ear sends a cold shiver down your spine, snapping you out of your spaced out mind. you now feel a bruising grip on each side of your waist.

your hips come to a still.

“mph, stop.. doin’ that..” hamzah growls, shifting his leg underneath you, holding you tightly to stop your subconscious grinding.

“shit,” you whisper, your body tensing. “i.. i didn’t even realize..”

hamzah keeps silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

eventually you feel his arm slightly flex as he lifts his hand away from his keyboard, his fingers sliding up your back and threading into your hair.

he tugs on the roots, picking your head up off his shoulder with a little bit of force, making you gasp. “look at me,” he rasps, sounding weak.

you peer down at him nervously, seeing his dark eyes scrutinizing you.

he tightens his hold on your hair as he speaks, “i’m busy.” he states. “but if you’re really that fucking desperate, then you can deal with it yourself.”

your stomach floods with heat at his words.

“what?” you whisper.

“you heard me,” he mutters darkly. “you wanna get off? go ahead, that’s all you, baby.”

“like.. you mean..” your eyes flick down to his thigh, where you’re straddling him.

“mhm, use it.” he says, letting go of your hair, his hand instead cradling your face. brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, he smirks. “do the work by yourself for once.”

you almost wanted to roll your eyes - sure, you could be a bit of a pillow princess sometimes, but that was because hamzah never necessarily wants you to put in an excessive amount of effort during your activities.

he always tells you to ‘just relax’ and ‘let him take care of you’ - so you just sit back and allow him do what he does so well.

he gets off on giving you pleasure. simple as that.

but this time, when he refuses to give you any of that attentiveness, you’re feeling so desperate that you’re actually going to have to listen to what he's telling you.

it’s no use protesting his ask, you know you’re going to give in.

you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

“are you serious?” you ask quietly, just to confirm.

“hundred percent,” he replies, dropping his hand from your face, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers trail down the sides of your body. “what, d’you think you can’t handle it?”

“no,” you answer immediately. “no.. i can do it.”

“that’s my girl,” he whispers, squeezing your thighs before he reaches around you once more, going back to his work, seemingly without a second thought.

you take this as a sign for permission to do whatever you wanted - whatever you needed. even if he didn’t have the time to pay attention, hamzah still wants you to feel good, no matter how much of a careless exterior he displays.

starting slow, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder as you start rocking your hips slowly against his thigh, the friction of fabric hitting your clit in the most perfect way possible.

but gradually, you get desperate. soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, your body setting a quicker pace as you ride hamzah’s leg.

it was a little embarrassing, slowly becoming a mess on top of him while he sits and does work, only murmuring a few lazy words of endearment here and there.

your breathing becomes shallow as your arousal builds, your fingers quickly making their way down to tug your sleep shorts and panties to the side, needing to feel more.

your slick soaks the fabric of his sweatpants, fingers digging into his shoulders with frustration as the pace of your hips becomes delayed and erratic.

a low moan rumbles in your throat, your skin burning hot with the frustration of basically knocking yourself out over the pursuit of your own satisfaction - thinking hamzah's not paying attention, but he is.

with each little noise and movement you've made, his work continuously seems to be less and less important to him.

“why’re you slowing down, huh?” he rasps, noticing your vexation.

you can only whine in response, not necessarily wanting to admit that you were getting tired.

“poor thing,” he smirks. “just need me to do everything for you, don’t you?” he teases, taking hold of your waist.

“please,” you sigh sensually, directly into his ear, feeling him slightly shiver underneath you.

it doesn’t take much convincing for him to help you out. you know he wants to, anyways.

he can’t resist you just as much as you can’t resist him.

he keeps his grip steady on you while starting to press your hips down, slightly lifting his leg up into your core - and the immediate increase of pressure has you squirming.

he starts aiding in the guidance of your movements, rocking you back and forth as your body basically melts into him.

“fuckin’ needy girl..” he groans, his jaw clenched. “had to use my thigh to fuck yourself. so desperate.”

all the stimulation on your clit is enough to have you trembling with an building orgasm already, and hamzah can feel it.

“you're close already?” he growls, yanking on your hair again to get your eyes fixated on him.

he relishes in seeing the angelic expression on your face. your parted lips and the blush dusting your cheeks - just the mere sight of you makes him want to give you the world.

his work completely forgotten, he becomes dead set on making you cum on his thigh. “c’mon baby,” he urges, picking up the speed at which he’s rolling your hips. “finish what you started.”

"hamzah.." you cry out in exasperation, your head lolling back. "fuck.. fuck, feels so good."

"i know, angel, i know.." he coos, staring up at you in complete awe as you writhe on top of him. "you're doing so good.. making a mess like this.

you're to the point of no return - your lower stomach feels like it's twisted into a knot. "m'gonna.. oh, shit, hamzah!" you moan, high-pitched and whiny.

"uh-huh, that's it," he groans, hands slipping underneath your shirt, cold fingertips meeting your warm skin as you unravel underneath his touch. "fuckin' dirty, finishing on me so fast."

dizzy with lust, your orgasm courses through you in lengthy waves, practically making you see stars. your head falls forward, your damp forehead pressing against hamzah's, your mind blissfully dropping into pure relaxation.

"oh, my good girl.." hamzah's faint voice penetrates your clouded mind. he brings you down from your high, his thumbs brushing across your tensed abdomen. "so perfect."

your body twitches slightly as you melt against him, breathing in short gasps, trying to piece yourself back together.

"still working..?" you murmur the question teasingly, peeking up at him. you lazily slide your hand up his chest and across his face, your index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they'd begun to slip down.

he chuckles, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against you. "no, baby. you're so distracting, y'know that? how would i be able to focus after this?" he says, sliding an arm underneath you and scooping you up. "let's go to bed."

————————————————————

a/n: please message me with anything you want me to write !! i wanna try and start writing for the sturniolos so if there's anything you want to see i'm open to all ideas

xo giulia

[tired-duckling]

"She want me BAD" (WBB players x reader)

I am so sorry, but unfortunately I am not a good writer....I am simply a good idea machine so I won't be posting full-fleshed out works just yet. So till then, pls enjoy a new idea to ponder about with our girls. Idk if any of ya'll are on wlw tiktok like me but there is this trend going around with the audio all like: "She want me bad", and it's usually the mascs with their significant others just touching and caressing their face. (Might link a tiktok if i find one) but yeah, how about we try it with the girlies? (Might be a little OOC if that's fine?) Paige Bueckers Was the one who wanted to do it, paid for your nails too and everythinggg. Had you sitting on her lap, and for sureeeee this girl is all smirk and making eyes at you as she lip synced to the song, might even wink at you and tease you while recording. You would first caress her face then down her neck and shoulders before moving back up to smoosh her cheeks together to make her laugh and in the end just pull you to her for a kiss. Nika Mühl You had the idea, but she wanted to be the one caressing your face, she would just giggle the whole time alongside you as you recorded and in the end gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Azzi Fudd Having a private not secret relationship with Azzi also means that you rarely post about her. She wanted to do it, but insisted that she wanted to be the one caressing your face. It was posted on your account a bit later but not many missed the iconic neon nails of Azzi Fudd.

KK Arnold It was KK who suggested it and wanted to be the one to lip sync. You both tried your hardest to keep it together but you both are just laughing your asses off. You guys had so many takes that you guys gave up and just posted one where you both tried to keep a straight face but failed. Comments were having a field day with this post, especially the team teasing how you can never take things seriously. Aubrey Griffin Was the one who suggested it, paid for your nails to have it done just the way you like it. Recording was hotttt, like you both couldn't believe how hot she looked especially since she recorded it while in between your thighs and with your superior hand placement as you caressed her face and neck. (Morgan screamed when she saw it pop up on her fyp)

Kate Martin

Ohhh I have smth very specific in mind for her, you suggested it but she had a vv different approach to recording. She sat you on the counter, stood between your legs and recorded it while looking directly at you within full view of the camera as you caressed her face and neck, not breaking eye contact even biting her lip after lip syncing for a bit because she just found you too hot.

*Newer Additions!!!*

Emily Engstler

(ik ab the controversy, but we have to keep in mind that she is doing this for work and profit, the one truly at fault here is the lack of structure and opportunities for Women Sports that forces players to look elsewhere for money, I agree it is sad that she chose to accept that deal but it is what it is)

You suggested doing the video to Emily, but instead you wanted to show off her hand tattoos so you had her do the caressing part instead. She reluctantly agreed and you opened up your phone. As you recorded, Emily might have understood the assignment a little too much. She caressed your face for a bit before moving down to enclose both her hands on your neck which moved further down and then went back up again. When you posted, everyone lost their mind over Emily’s hand placement and her hand tattoos.

Caitlin Clark

She was vv slick w suggesting this idea, she paid for your nails and asked if you wanted to show it off. And when you said yes, she suggested making a tiktok. You were ofc very much on board, she was all smiles while recording as you looked up at her while caressing her face and down her neck. You gave her a peck on the cheek after and posted it on your account. She actually reposted it on her instagram w the caption: “Wanted her to show off the nails I paid for ❤️‍🔥”

(can u tell im making a dig at the mediocre post of her bf 💀🤚)

*will add more when i think of more hihi*

[p0orbaby]

Mission Impossible

summary: you’re an agent at the top of your game, until a certain footballer distracts you

warnings: SMUT 18+, semi public (car), fingering, top!leah, dirty talk?

a/n: thanks for the request ! this was super fun to write

word count: 2.2k

-

“Remember to mute yourself if you go to the toilet, yeah?” your new technician's voice crackles through the earpiece you’d pay your life’s savings not to have to wear.

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?”

“Of course! The female version of double oh seven, duh. This is like, super cool that I’ve been assigned to you, by the way”

You roll your eyes and tap your fingers impatiently against the steering wheel of your car. “It’s my pleasure”

“But seriously, not to tell you what to do or anything but, please mute if you need to go potty. It’s just that I’ve got PTSD from the last agent because they-“

“Can you reroute me? This traffic is starting to piss me off and I’ve got a finite amount of time to, you know, do my job”

“Right, right,” he stammers. You hear the rapid clicking of keys over the comms. “Okay, take the next left and then a right at the lights. Should get you there faster”

“Thanks.” You sigh, flicking on your turn signal. The city lights blur past as you navigate the winding roads, every rev of your engine a reminder of the ticking clock. Or was that your indicator? Who knows, who cares?

“You nervous?” the technician, Mikey? asks, trying to make small talk. “I mean, it’s a big deal, right? Going undercover at something like this?”

“Nervous? No. Anxious to get out of this car? Absolutely,” you reply. The GPS recalculates, leading you into a quieter, more upscale part of the city. The kind of place where people hide secrets behind perfectly manicured lawns and pristine facades.

“Just remember,” he continues, his tone growing serious, “we’re here if you need anything. But you’ve got this. You always do”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Coach,” you say dryly, but there’s a hint of a smile on your lips at his compliment. “I’m pulling up now. Keep the channel clear unless it’s an emergency”

“Roger that. Good luck”

-

You hated places like this. Sure it’s probably the attendees' tax contributions who pay the bulk of your wages, but still. Everything is always so uptight, stiff, dry as hell.

“Tell me again why I had to wear a fucking dress” you say to yourself really, but you get a response because of you damn earpiece.

“Because as progressive as the world has become, a woman in a suit doesn’t really slide in environments like this”

You scoff, readjusting the strap of your gown. “I might put in a formal complaint. Undue distress in the workplace,” you mutter, weaving through the crowd. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low hum of forced laughter.

“Just focus on the task at hand,” Mark? reminds you. “You’re looking for a woman in a blue dress, diamond necklace. Shouldn’t be hard to miss”

“Got it,” you reply, scanning the room. You catch glimpses of the high-profile guests, all engaged in their own worlds, oblivious to the undercurrents of deception that flow just beneath the surface.

You make your way to the bar, figuring it’s as good a place as any to start. You signal the bartender for a drink, something that will keep your hands busy without dulling your senses. As you wait, you let your eyes roam, taking in every detail, every potential threat.

“Remember,” Martins’? voice buzzes in your ear, “you’re just here to observe and gather intel. No heroics”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, taking a sip of your drink. “Not my first rodeo, Champ”

What was with this kid?

A flash of blue catches your eye from across the room. You spot her, the woman you’re supposed to meet, gliding through the crowd with a grace that seems almost practiced. She pauses, scanning the room much like you did, and for a moment, her eyes meet yours.

You offer a slight nod, the briefest acknowledgment, before turning your attention back to your drink. No need to rush things. Timing is everything when it comes to these types of things.

“You look as bored as I feel”

A voice, smooth and unexpectedly unpretentious, cuts through your thoughts. You turn to find someone standing next to you, not in a dress, but in a sharp, tailored gray suit that makes her stand out in the sea of gowns and black tuxedos.

You muster a wry smile. “Is it that obvious?”

The blonde laughs softly, the sound genuine and easy. “Maybe just a little”. It’s her turn to gesture to the bartender. What gets placed in front of her is a tumbler of whiskey, dark and golden and a stark contrast to the champagne all the other women seem to be sipping on. “I’m Leah, by the way”

“Olivia,” you reply, shaking the confident hand she has extended for you. “First time at one of these?”

Leah shrugs, a casual gesture that is not encouraged at finishing school. She doesn’t belong here, you deduce. “Not quite. They get less and less interesting every time. You?”

“I’ve been to a few here and there,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “But really it’s a bit of a social experiment for me”

Leah grins, leaning against the bar. “A social experiment, huh? Sounds like you’re a people-watcher”

“You could say that,” you reply, glancing over the room again. Your blue woman is nowhere to be seen. “You can learn a lot about someone by how they navigate a room like this”

“True enough,” Leah says, her eyes raking over the crowd. “But mostly, you just learn who’s got the best bullshit and who can fake a smile the longest”

You laugh over the rim of your own glass. You’ve gone for vodka on the rocks. Clear liquids are recommended. “You’ve got a point there”

“I’m not just a pretty face”

Maybe she wasn’t, but she did in fact have a pretty face, that much was obvious. Those blue eyes. No, green eyes? Wait, was she talking to you? No, but she is smirking. Smirking at you like she knew all your deepest darkest secrets. Perhaps she did. Perhaps she can see right through you as you stand here staring at her like she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, focus”. Your conscience is talking to you again. “You haven’t got all night, remember”

You clear your throat, down your drink and ask for another.

“So, what does Leah do other than being a frequent goer of boring events, and a smart ass?”

She laughs and you feel it fizz through your body. “Oh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mostly kick a ball across some grass and hope it hits the target”

“Football?”

She nods. “Looks like you’re not just a pretty face either”

You’re about to respond, unsure of what you’re actually going to say as your brain has shortcurited, when a butter knife is tapped against the side of a glass.

“Looks like dinner’s ready” Leah whispers in your ear. “Where are you sitting?”

“Table four” you respond as you watch everyone start to move around the room.

“Well, unfortunately for you you can’t be rid of me just yet”

-

This doesn’t happen.

You don’t do this.

You’re a professional, the best in the field, so why are you half naked in the back of your car?

“Look at you, look at how wet you are” Leah sighs as she cocks her head, looking at how you’ve exposed yourself to her.

Your mind is gone. Off into the stratosphere never to return. Partly because you broke your very stringent rule of not drinking too much on the job, and partly because you need her to touch you. Now. Which she is not granting you the pleasure of doing.

You whimper pathetically when her palms splay on the inners of your thighs. Warm and large and calloused. She’s not a keeper, you've found out, so you only suspect the coarseness of her skin if from when she grips around weights in the gym.

If her forearms are anything to go by, your suspicions would be correct.

“Leah, please”

“What do you want, hm?” She asks, cocky in a way that heats your skin. “Tell me what you want and I might just give it to you”

She leans forward and presses tortured kisses against your jaw. Bruising you, no doubt. But that is a problem you will deal with later.

“You” you say, strained and desperate as her breath tickles you and forces goosebumps to ripple over your skin.

“You can do better than that” she teases.

Sighing, you muster the strength to speak more than one word at a time. “I want your fingers”

“Fuck, sweetheart” is all she says before she’s peeling herself off of you, rolling her sleeves up further past her elbows, and to your shock, sticking her fingers in her mouth.

The first touch almost has you combusting on the spot. She knows what she’s fucking doing. The suit should’ve been a giveaway. The whiskey a second chance for you to catch on. But you had a job to do, your mind was elsewhere, until it wasn’t.

You did in fact get your intel, and now you’re getting your reward.

Leah works painfully slow. Her experienced fingers rubbing lazy circles against your clit. She’s testing you, or she is making the most of your time together. Whatever she’s doing it’s making you that impatient that your hips buck involuntarily in response.

“You like that? You like it when I touch you?”

“Leah, for the love of god, hurry up”

She laughs then. Soft and sweet as if she’s not got your dress tucked up under your chin, or that a film of her saliva is covering the most intimate parts of you.

“You ready, baby?”

So fucking ready.

You nod, and she smirks again. Smug cow.

Her left hand finds your leg once more, but this time she wraps her fingers around the underside of your knee and pushes. Opening you up and keeping you where she wants you. It’s her right hand that gets to work between your thighs.

She pushes a solitary index finger in first. With little resistance with your own doing and her spit making the job easy enough.

“Oh fuck” you whine. “Jesus fucking Christ”

“Saying the lord's name in vain? I must be doing a good job” she snickers.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up and make me cum already”

To Leah’s credit, she is very good at fulfilling instructions. At least after a time. You think she’s had enough of toying with you and is actually looking forward to having her way with you now. Which you couldn’t be happier about if you tried.

Her finger slips in and out of you at a pace that has you teetering on the edge. Not quite enough to push you off. Which she must realise by the way your nails dig into the skin of those amazing forearms of hers. She is quick to change tactics.

Two fingers now, and you feel deliciously full. She has perfect fingers, you think behind the haze of your lust. Just the right length to hit that spot within you that has you reeling.

“Keep going” you beg, rolling your hips to meet each thrust. “I’m close”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh” you breathe, nodding as you feel your insides tense up, the line ready to snap.

Which it does when her thumb finds your neglected clit. And the rest is history.

Your whole body goes up in flames. Seeing stars as your legs shake and the coil in your belly snaps at last.

“You’re so pretty,” Leah says. You think. The sound of blood rushing past your ears makes it hard to distinguish your moans from anything else. “Look at you, does that feel good?”

You can’t nod, you can’t speak. But fuck yes it does. And she knows it because even as you start to come down from the highest of highs, she leans down to capture your cries with her mouth. Keeping them for herself and her fingers curl gently inside you to ease you back to reality.

“You’re amazing,” she whispers, her voice a calming balm in the aftermath of everything. She shifts slightly, withdrawing her fingers carefully and wipes them on the leg of her suit trousers. Just breathe,” she murmurs, her breath tickling your ear. “I’ve got you”

You close your eyes, letting the remnants of your climax pulse through your body as you try to regain your composure. Something that you don’t misplace often.

“That was-“

“Better than the cheese boards they were going to force down our necks? I agree” she finishes for you as she leans back, finds her discarded shout jacket, and uses it to wipe you clean.

“Something like that” you say, your voice rough around the edges.

Leah straightens up, her eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place. “So, do I get your number, or do I have to crash another shitty event to see you again?”

You chuckle, stretching over to the glovebox. You pull out a sleek, plain business card with just a number printed on it and hand it to her. “Here. Use it wisely”

Leah takes the card, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. She leans in, pressing a dirty, lingering kiss against your lips. “Until next time, Olivia,” she murmurs against your mouth before pulling away and stepping out of the car.

As you watch her walk away, a crackle sounds through straight into your brain, followed by Mitch’s! disgusted voice. “Oh my God, I told you to turn off your fucking earpiece!”

[bopero]

sunspots

summary - a collection of hamzah’s lack of self control when it comes to you. warnings - swearing, reader is a kpop stan lol note - hai :3 i have been so obsessed with hamzah lately i had to get it out of my system. this is a side blog as im too embarrassed to post on my main fic blog. enjoy and send ideas!

polycule reveal - out of character #100

The podcast starts like any other. Hamzah and Martin sit in the middle of the couch, with Mandy and you on either side of them. It’s the first episode that has you featured in it, and Hamzah is quick to settle any nerves you have with a soft smile and a squeeze of your shoulder. “So, yeah guys. There’s another member in our polycule now, this is Hamzah’s contribution.” Martin points towards you. Hamzah shakes his head, “Alright, bro…”. “Does that mean I get a share of the YouTube channel? Mandy, have they ever given you money?” Mandy clicks her tongue and continues in her deadpan voice, “Um, no. Basically they keep me in their dungeon until they need more views. I’d run away if I were you, honestly.” You pretend to look nervously between Hamzah and Martin, “Honestly I didn’t wanna say it but the basement Hamzah keeps me in is super gross.” “I don’t like this bit. Viewers, please be advised I do not keep my girlfriend in a basement for views. I don’t know about Martin, though.” “Dang it, first episode and they’re already making us look like idiots, Mandy. We need to try harder.”

becoming bts - out of character #104

The episode is you, Hamzah, and Martin. Hamzah is sat obviously much closer to you (which the comments are quick to mention, laughing at the lack of personal space he gives you.) “Yeah, a lot of the Slushies have been asking me if I’m a kpop stan. My ult bias-” Hamzah throws his hands into the air dramatically as he sees you pull a small photocard out of your wallet. A familiar face makes him groan loudly, “Oh, don’t even get me started on this fool! I am sick and tired of seeing him everywhere!” You proudly show off the photocard to the camera despite Hamzah’s childish complaints. Martin leans over to take a look at the photo in your hands, “Bro, what’s the big deal? Is this like challenging your alphaness?” You laugh loudly and Hamzah smiles, betraying the annoyed facade he’s putting on, “No! He just haunts me. She knows when his birthday is and shit and what he ate for breakfast that day, like bro,” he turns to you, pointing at you accusingly, “You don’t ask what I eat for breakfast.” Martin grabs his shoulder, as if to calm him down, “Bro. You know what this means. You have to defend your woman.” Hamzah turns to Martin and before you can question them, they begin singing together and waving their arms in the air, “Shoot dat boy in da head, shoot dat boy in da head!” The episode ends with you deadpanning at the camera as they chant beside you.

don’t play this game at 3 am (not clickbait!!!)

Martin and Hamzah had listened to their viewers, your first feature on the channel being in a Resident Evil gameplay. The comments are filled with ‘i slushed everywhere when i saw yn in the thumbnail’ and ‘hamzah holding onto yn everytime there’s a jumpscare boyy aren’t u supposed to b da man?’ You sit between the two men who both inadvertently curl into you as the creepy aura permeates outside the game as well. Martin dramatically holds onto his head as you shoot bullets into the grossly looking zombies on the screen, “Oh, god they’re gonna eat us out! Quick, grab more ammo!” “Ok, I don’t think they’re gonna do all that-” They both jump as a loud, sharp groan comes from the speaker. Hamzah in particular lets out his signature high-pitched scream. Martin seems to break character and laughs aloud as Hamzah shakes his head in embarrassment, turning away from the camera so it won’t catch the bright blush on his cheeks when you coo at him. “Aww, did you pee yourself?” Martin tries to speak through laughter, “I think you did, dude there’s a wet spot-” Hamzah quickly denies it, “Ok, stop lying to all the slushies, bro, I did not pee myself. I’m sick of this, turn off this trash ass game-” “It’s ok, babe. I’ll protect you, I’m your Leon.” Martin waves a blushing Hamzah over, “Yeah, come on you big baby. It’s not even that scary-wait don’t go in there-“

vacation

Hamzah had convinced you to create your own channel, due to the growing comments begging him to convince you to do so. You hadn’t expected much, but it’d at least be a nice way to share sweet memories between the two of you. The vlog starts with you sat in front of your vanity, as you complete your routine. You talk animatedly about the vacation you’re on with your boyfriend, mentioning the beautiful sights you’ve seen and the delicious food you’ve had so far. You don’t notice but Hamzah walks into the room, quietly sneaking into view when he notices you’re filming. He’s too sweet to scare you on purpose, so he only places the bag of food in front of you and waves towards the camera, “Hiii, it’s me, Hamzah. Remember me?” You push him out of frame, “Ew, get your big head out of here!” The bottom half of his body remains in frame as you look up at him from the seat, “What?! This is how youtubers act behind the camera guys, leave hate comments below, please.” He leans down to be to your level, staring longingly as you get ready. He imagines this is how it feels to watch art being made. You don’t notice his blatant staring, “Tell them how nice it is here.” He’s pulled out of his thoughts with your voice, “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. Think we’ll bring our kids here cause kids like beaches. Right?” You both seem to forget the camera is even there as you turn to him, “We should take them to Legoland.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, “Really? That’s the best you got?” You give him a side eye that makes him laugh harder, “Ok, get out, this is my video.” Hamzah only waves at the camera before giving you a gentle kiss on top of your head and leaving. It’s barely in frame, but it’s enough to show the burning warmth he holds for you.

[caitified]

Do a fic for when Kate discovered that her wife was pregnant and how she told everyone of the team, you could also talk about how was the pregnancy

positive

kate martin x reader

warnings: ivf and pregnancy! going back in time a bit for those who have read my other kate family stories.

kate’s hands trembled slightly as she held the test in front of her, her wide eyes darting between the little screen and your face. you couldn’t quite tell if the tears forming in her eyes were from joy, shock, or a mixture of both.

you had been waiting for her to get home from practice all day, your nerves building with each passing hour. the positive test had been sitting in your pocket, burning a hole through the fabric as you tried to focus on anything other than the massive news you were about to share.

kate had barely walked through the door when you blurted, “i need to tell you something.”

her forehead creased in concern as she kicked off her sneakers. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you shook your head quickly, stepping closer and pulling the test out of your pocket. “no, nothing’s wrong. actually, everything’s perfect.”

her eyes darted down to the object in your hand, and for a moment, she froze. “is that…?”

you nodded, unable to hold back the tears that welled in your eyes. “kate, we did it. i’m pregnant.”

kate’s jaw dropped, her bag slipping from her shoulder to the floor. “oh my god,” she whispered, reaching out to take the test from you, her fingers brushing yours.

“it’s real,” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of awe.

kate let out a breathless laugh, staring at the test as though it were the most precious thing in the world. then she dropped it onto the counter and pulled you into her arms, holding you as tightly as she could. she buried her face in the crook of your neck, her body shaking with a mixture of laughter and tears.

“we’re having a baby,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your skin.

you felt tears prick at your own eyes as you clung to her. “we’re having a baby.”

it had been months of waiting, hoping, and holding your breath, and now it was real. you were pregnant with your daughter, a miracle born from countless doctor’s appointments, late-night conversations, and unwavering support from kate every step of the way.

kate finally pulled back to look at you, her face lit with a smile so bright it made your heart ache. “you’re incredible,” she said, cupping your face in her hands. “i don’t even know how to put into words how much i love you.”

“you don’t have to,” you replied, leaning into her touch. “just love our little girl as much as you love me.”

kate laughed, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “she’s already got my whole heart, just like her mom.”

you both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other and the overwhelming joy of what was to come. when kate finally pulled you toward the couch, settling in with you wrapped in her arms, she tilted her head thoughtfully.

“we have to tell the team,” she said, with you curled up against her.

you groaned, hiding your face in her shoulder. “do we have to tell everyone? you know they’re never going to let us hear the end of it.”

kate chuckled, stroking your hair. “babe, they’re going to be so excited. plus, it’s going to get out eventually, and i’d rather they hear it from us than from some random gossip site.”

you sighed, knowing she was right. “fine. but you’re doing most of the talking.”

“deal,” kate agreed with a grin.

🫂🫂🫂

the next day, kate gathered her las vegas aces teammates at the team facility, promising there was “big news” to share. the group was buzzing with curiosity, and you could feel your nerves mounting as everyone settled in.

“alright, everyone,” kate started, standing at the front of the room with her arm around you. “we’ve got something pretty exciting to share.”

a’ja was the first to pipe up, her grin mischievous. “you two finally getting a dog?”

“better,” kate replied, her smile widening as she glanced at you.

the room went quiet, everyone hanging on her next words. kate took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“we’re having a baby.”

for a moment, the room was completely silent. then, chaos erupted.

cheers, squeals, and excited chatter filled the air as the team surged forward, wrapping the two of you in hugs and bombarding you with questions.

“when did you find out?” “how far along are you?” “oh my god, is it a boy or a girl?”

kate fielded the questions with ease, her hand never leaving yours as she proudly shared the news.

“it’s a girl,” she said, her voice full of pride. “our little girl.”

the team melted at that, and a’ja immediately started brainstorming baby names while kelsey demanded that she would be the cool aunt.

amidst all the excitement, you caught kate’s eye, and she gave you a look that said everything she didn’t need to say out loud.

thanks for reading! requests are open and feel free to give me ideas for their family.

[dolicekiss]

Hiiiii I love ur writing!!! If it's too much of a bother, I totally wouldn't mind if you don't write this😭😭 I understand that you might be busy with other things, butttt could you write about Martin from Another Round?? Him as reader's teacher (in like uni or something one where reader is legal) and like a punishment sort of thing that's happens to the reader while he's trying to teach them something after school bc they've been falling behind in their grades, and he eventually makes a deal that if they were to do a little "favor" they'd get an A?? Idk I just really like Martin😭😭 If possible, could you make the reader fem?? If not, gender neutral would be greatly appreciated, thank you!!!

- 🫧anon

♡: sorry this was so late, i just finished it and requests r piling up :[ hope u like it anon!

Good Grades

PAIRING: Martin X fem!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni), age gap (obviously), unprotected sex, perverted martin, oral (male receiving), degrading, humiliation, hair pulling, biting, filthy martin, power play.

SYNOPSIS: You've always struggled with your history subject, more so when it came down to remembering which historic event took in what year — the numbers screwing you up. It wasn't a surprise when you were called in by your teacher to scold you about your downgrading grades but you didn't know there was a much easier to fix them right up.

You were in a state of panic.

When your teacher had asked you to stay behind, you knew damn well what it was for.

History wasn't one of your strongest suits, especially remembering the numbers. You tried your best to embed your mind with it but you failed at the end.

Your nails scratched the skin around them in anticipation, stomach twisting in nervousness and anxiety knocking at the doors of your brain to allow it in.

You only had to wait for the bell to ring and once it rang, all the students left. Rushing to catch their breaks and some letting out sighs of relief to finally be freed of this soul sucking boring subject.

You were alone with him.

Martin’s gaze captured you as he picked up the papers he'd graded, setting them aside after picking out one.

It had to be yours.

He walked over to you, dragging a chair and sitting down on it in front of you. You could feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, heart hammering rapidly in your ribcage. Your forehead had perspired and you let out a breath.

“What is this, miss?” He asked, holding your paper out for you.

Immediately when you saw the grade of it, you felt like passing out. Martin eyed you as you averted your gaze from him and the piece of paper, looking around.

You had no courage to face your failure.

“I'm asking you something.”

You licked your lips. “A paper.”

Martin leaned back into the chair, thighs spreading open. He sighed. “I know it's a paper and it is your paper, which you almost failed.”

You flinched at his tedious tone, not enjoying how he spoke to you. Truth was, Martin had kept an eye on you for so long. Unbeknownst to you, he always tried to focus more on you and make you learn.

But you didn't want to.

Head anywhere but here, in his class.

“This isn't the first time. If you keep falling, I'll have to kick you out of the class.” It was a threat and your eyes widened immediately, shaking your head.

You leaned forward, the unbuttoned shirt revealing your chest which Martin captured a glance of. His cock stirring in his pants at how your tits pressed together — forming the perfect view for him. “Please, no. You can't do that. Just give me a chance, I'll do anything to fix my grades.”

Martin raised a brow.

Anything you said.

“I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do. I've had enough of this. You never pay attention and you're always chatting with other students.”

You shook your head. “Sir please, I will focus more. I will pay attention.”

Martin eyed you.

You seemed so desperate. He could see the raw desperation in your gaze and something inside him snapped, seeing how your pupils had blown out. He swallowed tightly and after debating with his own mind, he finally came to a conclusion.

He had power over you.

Why not abuse it?

“Get up and lock the door.”

You blinked at his abrupt command but nodded nonetheless, rising up from your seat to lock the door. Once you had snapped the little lock in place, you turned around to look at your teacher.

“Come here." And you obliged again.

Sauntering towards him, your pale skirt flowing by your side when you moved towards him. Nervousness had crawled all the way up to your throat and you licked your lips, in an attempt to wet the chapped skin.

You stood in front of him.

“There's something we can do to fix your grades.” He spoke, voice now a few octaves lower. Your fingers engulfed the material of your skirt as you raised a brow.

Martin reached for your hand, taking it into his. His brown eyes drowning in yours and his lips holding a sweet smile as if he wasn't about to make an immoral offer. “How about you be a good girl for your teacher and suck his cock?”

Your eyes widened in horror.

Pulling your hand out of his grasp, you retreated and stared at him. You'd never thought about your teacher in that sense. Yes, he was very attractive and you had a thing for older men but this was completely unethical and unprofessional.

You inhaled sharply.

Confusion clouded your judgment. You didn't know what to do. The proposal wasn't as bad as your mind was making it appear. Just give him head, get your grades up and work harder next time.

That easy, yeah?

Your knees dipped in front of Martin’s spread thighs and his smile widened. A tent already visible in his crotch. He was so excited, as he would always wonder how your glossy pink lips would feel wrapped around his cock — your tight little throat fighting to make space for his length.

You blinked, profusely as you reached for the zipper of his pants. He noticed the tremor in your hands and smiled softly, loving how innocent you appeared. Your hand managed to unzip his pants and pull out his cock but the moment your fingers caressed his hardened length, Martin hissed.

Your mere touch felt like embers on his skin.

Your eyes widened upon witnessing his gaze, the sheer length and girth of it leaving you completely bemused. How was that even supposed to fit in your mouth? You wondered if you could grow used to his size.

“What you waiting for, pretty girl?”

You looked at him with your pretty eyes as you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his tip. It leaked with precum and the salty taste glossed your lips. You ran your tongue over his pink cockhead and then wrapped your lips around him while your hand began to stroke him from his base — upto his length.

Martin slumped into his chair leisurely as his palm opened and rested over your head, forcing you to take him further. His lips fell open as he shuddered, enjoying the warmth your mouth produced around him.

The more you took him into your mouth, the harder it became for you to breathe properly.

You tried to inhale oxygen through your nose, your hands both resting on his parted knees. Martin’s hand pushed you further down on his cock and you fluttered your eyes shut, feeling his cock glide over your tongue and make way into your throat.

“Fuck, such a tight little mouth you've got, baby.” Martin groaned and as you peeled open your lids, you saw a sight before you which made your cunt throb.

A few straight strands had fallen over Martin’s forehead, his lips parted as his chest heaved up and down. Chiseled cheek bones reflexing everytime he let a gasp slip.

You took him deeper, feeling his cock head slip into your throat and you whined, sending vibrations and tremors down his cock into his groin. His cock throbbed and twitched like crazy and you could feel every little movement inside your tight cavern.

Your windpipe felt like it was being crushed and you pulled back from his cock, to take him deeper again.

“You're pretty good at this.” Martin groaned, staring down at you with hazy eyes. “How many cocks have you sucked, hm?”

You shook your head, telling him that this was your first time. Martin thrusted his hips upwards, driving his cock deeper into your throat. He managed to catch a glimpse of his dick print in your throat and lost his restraint.

Callous hands grabbing your head, holding it in place as he began to fuck his cock into your throat. Thrusts harsh and vigorous, your heart galloped in your ribcage. Your eyes fell shut and Martin’s fingers engulfed your hair.

“Look at me. Show me those pretty eyes, baby.” You obliged, fluttering them open. Your lashes coated the apple of your cheeks and tears emerged from your tear glands — droplets sliding down. Martin discarded the chair as he stood up, using his full strength to chase his orgasm.

You sniffled, gagging over his cock. A white ring of spit accumulating around his length from all the choking. Your mouth was covered in drool as well as chin, streams of precum mixed with saliva going down.

Martin’s balls throbbed and his pace fastened, fucking your throat like it was a cunt. You felt a stinging sensation spread in your knees from how long you'd been kneeling on the floor. His stomach was taut and his thrusts grew slightly slow — hinting at his upcoming arousal.

Loud groans and gagging sounds filled the whole of classroom. “Fucking whore. On her knees just to g-get good grades. How desperate can you be.”

Martin was a mess. His forehead was sweaty and then after a harsh thrust in your tight throat, he finally released inside your cum. Though that didn't last long as he pulled out halfway, shooting ropes of cum all over your face. You closed your eyes as the warm liquid stained your face wet.

You breathed like you'd ran a fucking marathon. Shallow breaths being inhaled while Martin stared at you, admiring how his climax covered your cheek. You reached to swipe it off your face, sticking your fingers into your mouth to suck them clean.

“You look fucking pretty like this.” He praised, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your cheeks warmed up. “I-Is that enough? Will you fix my grades now, sir?”

He tilted his head, contemplating you. Lost in complete dilemma before he came to a conclusion. Martin didn't waste time lifting you up from the floor and you yelped — bemused by this abrupt action. He set you over the desk and smiled, causing his smile lines to appear.

“I can't let you go this easily, pretty girl. I need more now.” You blinked and stared at him, knowing what he was hinting at. You'd sucked him dry, there was no way he could regain his strength this quickly but when your gaze lowered and you caught onto his cock hardening, you realised his age did not work as restraints to his desires.

Martin took a step back. “Open your legs, show me that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Sir but you—”

“You want to fail?” He asked, brow raised. Deep voice hiding a threat underneath and you shuddered at the unexpected change of tone.

You nodded your head, face flushed and hair sticking to your skin. Parting open your thighs, you revealed your sticky panties and Martin’s chest rumbled with a primal growl at the sight. Your panties had a wet spot and that only worked to heighten his arousal for you.

His large hands held you open, staring at how your cunt produced more and more essence of desire. Your thighs shuddered when his knuckles caressed them, his hands tugging off your panties and slipping them inside his pocket.

“But..” You complained at the perverted action of your teacher.

Martin grinned at you. “Sh, I might need them for later when my cock becomes hard at the memory of being inside your little pussy.”

Martin didn't even care to prep you. He only held his cock in his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your moist puffy cunt. Then he entered you and the stretch of your pussy made you arch your back. Your palms gripped on the edge of the table as you whimpered.

You were all over the place.

Embarrassment crept up your body like vines when you registered the situation you were in.

Willing to sleep with your older teacher only to achieve good grades. If your parents were to find out, they would look down upon you and you'd probably be expelled from your university but none of that mattered.

You needed good grades and this was the only way.

“Fuck— you've got such a tight little cunt, baby.” Martin moaned, entering you till he's pelvis had pressed up yours. Soft little whimpers escaped you when you were filled to the brim. “I'm gonna fuck you, gonna dumb you down on my cock.”

You sniffled, a lone tear sliding down.

Martin leaned in and captured your lips in a kissing, licking and sucking at yours. A hungry kiss it was but it made your cunt throb around his hard cock.

He started to pull out, only to thrust back inside you with vigor. His hips snapped repeatedly, finally losing all sense of control.

Martin’s hands held your hips, digging into them as he drove himself into the warmth of your sweet cunt. He was fucking hysterical, each thrust delivered with passion and driven by need.

Crying out from pleasure and ecstasy, your body jerked upon feeling his cock nestle into your sweet spot. You reached for his sweaty nape, wrapping both arms around it for support. The desk underneath you quaked whenever Martin would snap his cock into you.

“S-Sir, oh my god. Sir please, someone might h-hear.” You sobbed uncontrollably from the unbridled lust.

Martin brought his hand upto your face and shoved his fingers into your mouth, pressing along your wet tongue. You choked a little but allowed him to shove his fingers down your throat, tips brushing against the palate of your mouth.

“Keep quiet, yeah? Don't want anyone to know you're getting fucked by your teacher for some high grades.” Martin shushed you, staring at you with pure lust swimming in his gaze.

You kept your thighs apart, abdomen shivering from your upcoming climax and your fingernails dug into Martin’s nape, scratching at the skin. He hissed and the pain only increased his strength, thrusting harshly inside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your release pounding at your taut stomach and with a loud cry you came all over Martin’s cock. He didn't give you any time to calm down, instead seeing how beautiful you looked when you made a mess on his cock only made him fuck you harder.

He grabbed your leg and pulled it up to his shoulder, leaning down and pressing his body firmly against yours. Martin dug himself deeper inside your tight cunt, as it clamped down on him and the man felt like you would snap him in half.

“You'll fucking cut my dick in half, baby. Relax a little, yeah? I'm close, so fucking close.” He reassured you, pressing onto your stomach to feel his cock push up against your cervix. His length grazing your walls.

He buried his face in your neck, digging his teeth into your skin. Tainting the unmarked canvas of a skin with red and blue.

Martin’s hips stuttered as he felt himself near, soon spilling inside you. His load heavy and filling you up to the brim. Thankfully you were on birth control so it didn't really matter but the feeling of his cum inside you made you twitch.

He pumped into you, emptying himself inside you for the second time but in your puffy cunt. You'd buried your head in his chest and Martin let you, finally getting what he needed from you.

He pulled out from you after you both had calmed down and caught a breath and you whimpered at the loss of contact. The blonde watched your gaping hole release his seed in drops, trailing down and making a mess on his wooden desk.

“Such a pretty, swollen cunt.” He whispered, shoving his cum back inside with his long fingers.

Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you let out a whine when he did that. His tan skin glistened with sweat, making it appear gold like to the gaze. Hair a mess, similar to yours and his flannel shirt crinkled up. Martin fixed your skirt, pulling it down over your thighs and you realized he had fucked you in your skirt, which made this rendezvous even more hotter.

Your face flushed and sweaty, lips swollen and eyes watery.

Martin wanted to take a picture of how fucked out you looked. But he didn't — it would only cause problems if he was ever caught. Especially by his wife.

“W-Will you fix my grades now?” You asked, once you'd ran a hand through your hair and slid off the table. Lower body barely having any strength to support the upper one.

When you looked up at Martin, your eyes still held remnants of your innocence and he nearly swooned.

He nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “With how well you took my cock, I'll fucking give you the highest grade.”

You smiled, pleased with the result. This was all you ever wanted. To pass and not be a failure and knowing your teacher’s weakness made it a whole lot easier for you.

[buuniebaby]

sex tape headcons 😉😉

PRETTY ON CAMERA 🎀 HAMZAH X READER

includes: rough sex, sex tapes, choking, fem!reader, ft sex, unprotected sex

wordcount: 2.2k

as much as hamzah hates to admit it, he loves being on camera - and that doesn’t stop at just youtube videos.

despite the promise to himself he made mental note of in high school to never send nudes, it’s become his new addiction. he loves to show off every inch of himself to you, he loves the praise you give in response to seeing his body, and he especially loves knowing that he can make you go feral with a simple video.

on a similar note, he fucking adores seeing you on camera. he likes the way you get shy when being recorded, whether the audience is slushies or it’s a video just for him. he’s obsessed with the pretty lingerie you wear for him and the way your tiny hands caress your body while you think of him. it makes him want to fucking destroy you.

ever since you two have gotten into the habit of filming videos for each other, it’s almost like something’s awoken inside of him. an urge of sorts, to make a fantasy he’s kept bottled up forever real. he wants both of you on camera, together. however, there’s one problem preventing him from asking:

hamzah is a pussy.

but thankfully, you’re just as horny as he is nervous.

the topic doesn’t actually come up until a day where your boyfriend is particularly needy. he’s sleeping over at martin’s tonight - a little too long without you for his liking.

fortunately for him, martin and mandy had forgotten to get a few items for their next video, so he had a bit of alone time. as soon as they’re out the door, his shirt is pulled off and he’s facetiming you.

as your phone buzzes to life, you’re snapped out of your doomscrolling session, wearing just one of hamzah’s large hoodies and a pair of panties. you smirk a bit at the sight of his contact popping up on your screen and sit up.

“hi, baby.” he says, voice deep. “I miss you.”

“i miss you too,” you reply back, in a more light tone. “but ill be with you tomorrow..” you say, smirking. you’ve got the same idea as him.

“are martin and mandy home?” you ask. as much as you want hamzah right now, you really don’t want to deal with the consequences of his best friend overhearing you two.

“nah, they left a little while ago.. forgot to buy some stuff for the video. ..soo, I have you all to myself.” he says, smirking.

“yeah?” you lean into the camera, doe eyes sparkling up at him.

“yeah. y’know, I missed hearing your voice, baby. it’s enough to get me hard.” he mutters, voice deep and breathy. it only makes you want him more.

you can only bring yourself to reply with a simple, “mhmm?” as your hands reach into your panties.

“yeah.. fuck. get that fucking hoodie off too. wanna see all of you.” he mutters back. you can tell he’s touching himself now too.

immediately, the hoodie is on the floor, bare chest exposed to the camera. hamzah takes this as an opportunity to change his position as well, camera giving you a direct view of him laying on his bed, sweatpants pulled down as he grinds his cock into a pillow.

“fuck, miss those tits. you want that? my mouth on them?” he says, breathing heavy.

you moan at this, grinding down into your fingers - they aren’t nearly his size, but it’s the best you can do for right now.

“yes, fuck- keep talking.” is all you can utter out.

“yeah? wish this pillow was your pretty little pussy, you know that? wish you were right here right now-“ he chokes, “fucking rutting in this pillow, just wish it was you, baby.” the visual of his hips thrusting, starting to get desperate paired with his words is destroying you, but the next thing he says is what really does it.

“gonna fill you up when I get back home. gonna pump my come into you, until you can’t take it anymore - fuck.”

fuck.

you see his hips twitch as you bite your fist, seemingly both close to finishing. you can hear a faint “shit- shit.” from the other side of the camera, and with that, you feel yourself finish all over your fingers. just as you’re done, you see hamzah’s thrusts pause as he takes a breath, and you can only guess that he just came as well.

after both collecting your breath, you mutter out a simple, “wish we were together. instead of facetime, we could just like, record it.” he continues to lay down, still recovering, but once he actually processes what you just said he perks up.

“wait.. like, actually? you’d do that?” he asks eagerly, eyes slightly widening.

“I mean.. I wouldn’t ever post it or anything. just like.. something to watch when you’re not here. only if you’re comfortable though.” you casually reply, and suddenly he’s already hard again.

“im very comfortable. incredibly comfortable with that actually.” he says, excitedly, and it makes you giggle.

“get your camera charged for tomorrow then.” you say, a sly smile forming. you’re enjoying the way you have a hold on him. “oh- and make sure you bring a new sd card, not the one you use for filming. i have a feeling we’re gonna make a lot of footage.”

“yes ma’am,” he says, making a salute sign with his hands. even when he’s bricked, he knows exactly how to make you laugh.

hamzah is counting down the minutes until he gets to see you when the next day comes. martin and mandy are even shocked at his eagerness to get out of the house, joking that he hates them now.

after what feels like the longest drive he’s ever taken, hamzah arrives home. he’s speeding through the door, into the living room, only to see you’re nowhere to be found; that is, until he checks his bedroom.

he slowly opens the door to a sight he never wants to forget - you’re sprawled out on his bed, baby pink lingerie barely covering your body, as you fix your hair in your phone camera. the sound of the door creaking open catches your attention, and you look up at him with those big, sparkly deer eyes. you giggle at his mouth, jaw dropped at the sight of you. “missed me?”

“fuck, yes.” is all he can mutter as he crawls onto the bed beside you, pulling the camera out of his backpack and then carelessly tossing the rest of his stuff off the bed. he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, immediately making up for the time he was gone.

you breathlessly manage to pull him off of you. giggling, you whine, “hamzahh, you haven’t even started recording yet.”

“shit- forgot.” he grabs the camera and fumbles with it for a second, then places it on the side of the bed. you see a red light go off as he pulls you into another kiss.

your lips trace his as your tiny hands find their way to the bottom of his sweatshirt, pulling it off to reveal nothing underneath. he begins to undress you as well, big hands carefully tracing the dainty lace as he pulls it off you. he leans down to put his mouth on one of your tits, suckling on it like a newborn baby. one of his hands goes to the neglected breast, and the other to grip your neck. you gasp as his strong, veiny hands wrap around you, taking your breath away.

he pulls away from your chest, leaving you panting. you can see him mess with the strings of his sweatpants until they’re untightened, then pull them down, showing his erection through his boxers.

“hamzah…” is all you can say. he’s the only thing on your mind right now.

“baby..” he mutters back.

his strong hands push you back into the bed, laying you down. you look up at him, confused, watching him get closer to your face. he caresses your cheek for a second, moving your hair out of your eyes.

“so pretty.. my girl.” he mutters, love in every word that comes out of his mouth.

he gently palms himself through his boxers before slowly pulling out his cock. all you can do is stare at his dick, precum glistening from the tip. he drags it across your lips, and by instinct, you open your mouth. you lap at it, gently, but hamzah has a different idea.

“open.” is all hamzah says before suddenly, his whole cock is down your throat. you make a shocked sound, but then settle to the feeling of the shaft’s intrusion. he starts slow, but begins to thrust in and out of your mouth rapidly, giving you small breaks when he pulls out for air.

“so fucking hot.. feels so wet around me..” he groans, using your face as his own personal pocket pussy for the camera. the sounds of your gagging only turns him on more, hips stuttering as he thrusts.

“mhmm, mhn, mmgh- fuck! fucking- perfect little throat, all mine, my perfect girl-“ he says as you feel a twitch from inside your mouth. his hips stutter as he cums down your throat, with a “god- all mine. fuckkk.”

as he slowly slides his cock out of your mouth, his fluids coat the outside of your lips. he grabs the camera, showing it your face. you stick your tongue out, showing the lack of cum in your mouth. he pets your cheek again, deep voice muttering a “good girl, swallowing it all for me.” all you can do is give the camera a fucked-out smile.

hamzah repositions you two so you’re sitting in his lap, the camera facing your ass. you kiss him, sloppy, already feeling drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking your mouth. as the two of you make out, he grips your ass, moving your hips against his lap. he pulls his sweatpants and boxers all the way down, making the connection skin-to-skin.

he lets out shaky breath before he grinds his bare cock against your pussy a few more times. “you’re gonna be the fucking death of me.” is what he mutters before sliding in, exhaling a loud, “fuckkk” with it.

your ass bounces on top of him, making a loud “plap” sound every time you sink down onto his pelvis. his strong hands grasp onto your hips and lift your body up and down as he thrusts into you in unison. his hips speed up as do yours, until you’re panting on top of his cock, desperately making any kind of friction.

“ah- ah- ahh- fuck!” you whimper with each thrust, only making hamzah get more aggressive. he feels your cunt tighten around him, and thrusts as deep as he possibly can while you cum.

hamzah lets out a deep, breathy laugh as you nuzzle into his shoulder. he rubs your back gently, but then whispers a soft, “i still need to cum again, baby.”

you perk up again, preparing yourself for round 2, but hamzah is already manhandling you into place. he maneuvers you into all fours on the bed, then grabs the camera.

he records as he slides the tip of his cock against your pussy, then shoves his cock inside you. you let out a loud gasp at the intrusion. he uses the other hand to pull on your hair, aggressively yanking your head back, making you look him in the eyes.

“want you to beg for it-“ he says, out of breath, “beg for my cum.”

“mhmm.. please.. need it hamzah!” you say, whimpering and whining as your cunt tightens around his cock. he’s animalistic, thrusting into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you.

“more.. fuck- more, baby. need to hear you while I cum.” he says.

“please hamzah, I need it, I need your cum inside me so bad. fuck- ruin me- ahhh, breed me!” you whine out, shaking from the way he pounds you. you groan as you feel him cum inside, seed filling you up and making you feel whole.

hamzah turns off the camera and puts it off to the side, still inside you. he doesn’t move, just lays on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your back.

“love you..” he mutters, “so fucking much.”

you softly whine back, face still pressed into the mattress. he slowly pulls out, his cum buried so deep inside of you nothing even leaks out. you try to sit up, but hamzah pushes you back down. “hold on- there’s.. one more thing i want to do.”

you look back at him, confused, and watch him as he grabs the camera and starts recording your ass. he slowly spreads your folds open, and after a second, cum begins to drip out. a quiet “fuck..” is all he can mutter, watching his seed drip out of his baby.

once hamzah is done being mesmerized by the way his cum leaks out of you, he lays back down and immediately wraps his arms around you, gently caressing your body, staring at you with all the love in the world.

“i love you too,” you tiredly murmur.

“huh?”

“you said i love you earlier.. so do i. i love you.”

he smiles at you for a second, then places a soft kiss on your forehead. “love you too, baby.”

thank u for reading!! SEND REQUESTS i fear we r in a hamzah drought.. 😞 but ill try to get them out quick mwah thank u baii