#now I am obligated to also use this tag:

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Sometimes I don’t understand why a fandom has decided to create a popular side ship out of whole cloth and like two onscreen interactions (sorry xicheng shippers).

But I absolutely respect the thought process behind seeing scorpion king, the poorest of meow meows, and his whole….deal with zhao jing and simply giving him a different less evil old man to work out his freudian issues on. You can take the xie-er out of his fucked up sugar daddy relationship but you can’t take the daddy kink out of the xie-er, etc.

xie wang/ye baiyi just makes sense really.

[jugglejerk]

prime Little Guys™ that I have drawn awesomeness.........

[authorwithissues]

Am I the only one who thinks the lease-breaking rules are weirdly lopsided...

[thebiballerina]

I mostly concur with the above reblogger, but I wanted to add one thing:

I wouldn't say that anything you do will have zero impact. There are SOME things you can do that will have an impact, if you choose to put your time and energy into this issue. (Which you are not obligated to do, to be clear, unless you have some sort of role or job which implies that sort of responsibility.)

You aren't necessarily helpless. But subscribing to OP's mindset is a really good way to make yourself helpless.

I've seen that mindset, repeatedly. I had that mindset, at one point in time. You know what changed that, more than anything else? Becoming an actual activist.

The activists who hold on to the mindset that a mental health break is selfish? The ones that can't or won't emotionally distance themselves? The ones that don't acknowledge their right to care for themselves because someone, somewhere is suffering worse than them? They don't last, and they don't help.

The good ending for that road is to burn out, and then not be able to help anymore. The bad ending is to fall heavily into compassion fatigue, and then be so desensitized and unable to care that you cause real harm. Or there's the other bad ending, which is that you neglect yourself so thoroughly that you end up hurt, sick, or dead (and maybe hurt others while you are at it). You might even manage to do all three of these things.

If you want to make a real impact on more than a minuscule scale, you not only need to allow yourself mental health breaks (which, yes, sometimes include disengaging completely), you need to accept that they aren't selfish at all. They are sometimes the only way you'll be able to preserve your ability to help. Feeling personally affected by an issue is valid, and sometimes unavoidable, but it doesn't correlate to how much of a difference you make.

Hurting yourself doesn't automatically help others. Many of us have heard metaphor which references the airplane safety instruction to put on your oxygen mask before helping others do so. It's a good metaphor. A suffocating person isn't going to thank you for the valiant gesture of suffocating yourself alongside them, when you had the option to save the both of you.

I believe in sacrifice, in some cases. I believe in acknowledging my privilege. But sacrifice generally implies that you are giving something up to help someone else. If you are just giving something up… it's more suffering in the world, not less.

Do you want to actually help? I bet you there are activism campaigns that would love to have you, in a variety of forms and levels of commitment. Including entirely remote efforts, if you aren't in a position or location to engage in in-person efforts. That goes for any cause, not just this one.

And you'll make a lot more difference in that sphere if you prioritize your impact, instead of your devotion to the issue.

i think anyone who is genuinely worried about their mental health bc of the situation in gaza probably needs to reformat their way of thinking about it. the answer is not to take a “mental health break” where you pretend whats happening in gaza doesnt exist and stop being vocal and refuse to hear people around you who are vocal. the way to do that “mental health break” much more effectively and not selfishly would be to remove yourself from constant streams of idiotic and/or murderously evil people. stop watching tiktok debates. stop reading genocidal reddit comments and news articles from sources you KNOW want palestine dead. stop putting the focus on the murderers and keep your attention on sympathy and love for the murdered, on hope and optimism (even if naive) and activism to do your part in making things better. dont get me wrong the murderers still need to be dealt with but if you as an individual feel like you’re getting too overwhelmed with despair to be helpful, the answer is to shift your focus away from those causing the despair, not to ignore and abandon those who have to actually live through it.

[phagodyke]

ohhhhh my god girl i don't careeeee

[astonmartinii]

i can do it with a broken heart [guilty as sin part three] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

life goes on after a bombshell but this silence isn't mysterious it's ominous

MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,304,509 others

yourusername: don't tell lies about me and i won't tell truths about you

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user164: oh holy moly this is so much worse than i thought

user165: i don't think i can ever look at those men the same ever again

user166: SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS FOR FAVOURS?

user167: my mouth dropped open when i read that

user168: so like not to be insensitive but like who do we think it was

maxverstappen1: so like y/n obviously can't talk on this because she needs her silence but my big mouth will remain open they tried it on me that's why she mentions that she managed to make friends.

user169: what the fuck

maxverstappen1: they thought that i would be an easy target because i was so young but jokes on them i've always been taken advantage of so i saw that from a mile away (also y/n didn't want to so that obviously helped)

user170: that is actually insane like her and max are the same age so that would've made her so young i hope to god that they didn't try it with anyone older

maxverstappen1: they did but by the time they realised that it hadn't worked on me y/n had allies and fernando and seb were not about to let any of that happen

user171: thank the lord she had some friends when people control your money you'll do anything

fernandoalo_oficial: she became my daughter the moment that i saw them try and offer their family to some of the older men in the paddock

user172: i am actually in shock this was a "oh gosh this is so dramatic situation" but now it's just "holy shit i kinda need to see these guys in jail"

fernandoalo_oficial: me and you both

user173: i'm going to need ferrari to let charles out of the cage for this one

user174: kinda expected him to be in the comments supporting her i'm not going to lie

user175: he's in the likes?

user176: girl? his girlfriend is being sued by his own family and is confessing that she was offered round the paddock like a prize cow i feel like he should be actively voicing his support

oscarpiastri: you're loved and have the full support of the paddock

maxverstappen1: we're behind you 100% of the way

olliebearman: nothing but full support for you mum

pierregasly: we're all here for you no matter what we're allowed to say

fernandoalo_oficial: 🫶

sebastianvettel: it'll all work out in the end

user177: still no charles ???

user178: eh i feel like pierre is confirming charles' support in his place

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 835,923 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

maxverstappen1: i'm missing my best friend has anyone seen her?

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user179: oh good i was just about to lose it from y/n and max withdrawals

user180: at least one of the trio of dumbasses is keeping us fed

yourusername: i miss you toooooooooo :( (reply fast my lawyer has gone to the bathroom)

maxverstappen1: hurry up and win your lawsuit so we can go back to kicking ass and drinking gin and tonics

yourusername: i'm trying 🤞

maxverstappen1: and if i said it's time to red wedding them?

yourusername: i think we would be swiftly arrested

maxverstappen1: they can't arrest us our face cards are too strong

yourusername: well one of us is currently in court so what does that say about my face card

charles_leclerc: THAT YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL REGARDLESS FUCK THEM

this comment was liked by the author and @yourusername

this comment was deleted

user181: so is that like confirmation that charles is back in PR jail in maranello

user182: right i understand that he's literally employed by them but like he's also a grown ass man who can speak up

user183: like i know max isn't obviously at ferrari and isn't contractually obligated to be teammates with carlos but even he's out here slamming him

user184: and oscar who's only in his SECOND year in the sport

oscarpiastri: bold assumption that you're the best friend max

maxverstappen1: let's not get too rowdy piastri i can deal with you as the 'child' - you cannot be a bestie as well

oscarpiastri: i don't think that's the exact rules

maxverstappen1: you'll soon learn that I MAKE THE RULES AROUND HERE BUSTER

oscarpiastri: i can't wait for y/n to kick their asses so she can come back and KICK YOURS FOR ME

maxverstappen1: she would NEVER

oscarpiastri: okay maybe she wouldn't, but my dad on the other hand ...

liked by @charles_leclerc

user185: charles just PLEASE GET ON THE MIC

user186: i'm about to lose my patience i'm not going to lie

user187: guys we have to remember that this is a complicated situation with a lot of different moving parts, as long as charles is there for her in REAL LIFE it doesn't matter what we're seeing

liked by @yourusername

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, user190 and 308,994 others

carlossainz55: what was it you said? all is fair in love and poetry.

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user191: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

user192: not the childhood dog too ???

user193: these are unbelievable levels of hating

user194: i'd be impressed if he wasn't such an asshole

maxverstappen1: get fucked

carlossainz55: she shouldn't dish it out if she can't take it

maxverstappen1: she fell in love ?? and you thought that was a good excuse to take everything she's ever had

carlossainz55: she cost me my dream

maxverstappen1: as far i can remember, she's not on the fucking FERRARI BOARD GENIUS

carlossainz55: it's her pussy-whipped boyfriend that's the problem and she deserved this as soon as she choose him over her blood

maxverstappen1: you're insane and history will always remember you as the biggest crybaby loser to ever grace this sport

user195: so this ^^ is definitely referring to y/n's poetry

user196: are we living through scooter braun volume two

user197: @taylorswift PLEASE HELP

charles_leclerc: EAT SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL

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charles_leclerc: you are the lowest of the low and you will get what is coming to you

this comment was deleted

charles_leclerc: there's only so long i have to stay silent and the people will know just the type of person you are

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user198: so is like carlos deleting this comments or ferrari?

user199: i bet it's ferrari

user200: 1. can they stop being allergic to fun 2. i think this has gotten past the need to uphold image like these are your employees and this is serious actually

user201: also like silencing charles when its CARLOS BEING THE MESSY ONE HE IS ACTUALLY STILL YOUR EMPLOYEE

yourusername: old habits die screaming

carlossainz55: you can spout all the 'poetry' you want it'll all belong to me anyway

yourusername: i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning

user202: stealing poetry? now that's a new low

user203: i'm gonna need someone to take one for the team and put a cheeky front wing in his tyre

georgerussell63: well this sounds like a job for me

charles_leclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 893,450 others

charles_leclerc: lets go racing.

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user206: is this even charles? where are the emojis? where is the excitement

user207: i think we might be witnessing a lil PR takeover after his deleted comments tirade under carlos' recent post

user208: you'd think they'd at least get his tone right like the rest of his account is RIGHT THERE

user209: charles leclerc's PR team we now have beef

liked by @yourusername

maxverstappen1: ugh you people are useless

oscarpiastri: i'm not going to lie i'm losing my patience

maxverstappen1: for real i'm gonna need this court case to finish up fast so we can get back to being a united front of haters

oscarpiastri: and then we can also wrestle charles' phone back by force

olliebearman: PLEASE KNOW THIS ISN'T ME I LOVE Y/N AND WE WILL LIVE TO KICK ASS AGAIN

user210: oh so they quite literally took his phone?

olliebearman: whoops

user210: ollie coming for kid of the year

olliebearman: i can't be told off for accidentally leaving my phone out while in the car and accidentally making my password something easy to remember and accidentally telling charles that his PR team had posted something - accident i swear

user211: @maxverstappen1 can you confirm they're still grossly in love?

maxverstappen1: i do have the letters to prove so but i think he's going insane with withdrawals

user212: that's it GET ME TO MARANELLO RIGHT THIS SECOND I HAVE A SCORE TO SETTLE

user213: yo i know we just got some confirmation from max but i can't help but think how lonely this must be for y/n

user214: for real if i was being sued by my family and had everything stolen from me i'd want more than some 'confirmation' through her bff in an instagram comment

carlossainz55: i hate to say i told you so @yourusername but that would be a lie i'm enjoying this so much

maxverstappen1: i want to fight you so bad but my therapist said that's bad

oscarpiastri: it's also illegal?

maxverstappen1: what's the point of being a rich white man oscar if i can't use to it to traverse the justice system and defend my bestie's honour

user215: @charles_leclerc get a backbone and do it like these two ^^

user216: i still have faith that he'll rain hell on that family when he's free

user217: well can he hurry the fuck up cause he's really shaping up to be the worst boyfriend of the year

user218: he has to get fucking loud HE CAN'T PROVE CARLOS RIGHT I DON'T WANT TO LIVE IN THAT WORLD

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 934,520 others

yourusername: i can do it with a broken heart

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user223: no no NO WE'RE NOT DOING ALL THIS GUESSING GAME SHIT WHAT WAS THE VERDICT?

user224: it's finished?

user225: that's what the spanish media are saying

user224: well in that case Y/N WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE YOUR POETRY BACK?

maxverstappen1: a wine evening without me? prison changed you

user225: SHE'S IN PRISON?

yourusername: STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M IN JAIL

maxverstappen1: want me to put some money in the commissary so you can buy cigarettes?

yourusername: i don't even smoke and i'M NOT IN JAIL

maxverstappen1: now you've done time can you employ some stricter parenting on oscar and ollie, they've gotten unruly with both parents absent

yourusername: i'm not an absent mother :(

oscarpiastri: SHE'S VERY PRESENT SHE'S BEEN TO EVERY RECITAL SHE CAN IN HER CURRENT CIRCUMSTANCES

maxverstappen1: did you just refer to literal FORMULA ONE GRAND PRIXS AS RECITALS?

oscarpiastri: maybe i did

yourusername: he's allowed to call them what he wants

olliebearman: i feel sufficiently supported by you mum x

yourusername: i'm glad

olliebearman: family dinner when dad gets released from ferrari's top secret base jail?

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maxverstappen1: did he just get sniped by ferrari's PR?

user226: okay cool got the main kids update but WHAT ABOUT LEO?

user227: please tell me he's been been in good care

yourusername: he's been my rock 🤞

user228: not the dog being more present than charles - it would be funny if it wasn't so sad :(

user229: so are any of you going to address the literal caption of this post

user230: there's two options here she either lost the court case or her and charles have actually broken up

user231: the fact carlos is not in this comment section actively gloating makes me think she might have actually won?

user232: but i don't want it to be the other option... charles and y/n are end game :(

user233: but he's been so so silent and that BULLSHIT response in the press conference

user234: idk the delusion in me has this theory ... she won the case but like t swift, doesn't have access to her old work so maybe she's heartbroken over losing that and then it's just exacerbated by her boyfriend's useless bosses that are holding him captive in italy (also he was totally coached to say that shit in the presser it's written all over his strangely expressive face)

user235: at this point i might go to italy and just prison break him out of there this is ridiculous

fin.

note: DON'T HATE ME YALL i promise it'll get better we must have faith in the man (i know i hate to put my faith in men) xx

extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[andypantsx3]

BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER

SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty—and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!

Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.

It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.

You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.

One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.

“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.

Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.

“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.

Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.

You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.

Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.

You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.

The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.

You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.

“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.

“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”

Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.

You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”

Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.

You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.

He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.

His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.

His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.

“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.

You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.

He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”

You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.

“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.

“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.

You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.

“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.

Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.

“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.

“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”

Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.

“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”

You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.

“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”

Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.

You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.

You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.

You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.

“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.

“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.

“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”

Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.

“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.

“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.

“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.

“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.

Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.

Still, you tried to refocus your attention.

“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.

Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.

“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.

The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.

You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.

Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.

You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.

Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.

You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”

Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.

“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.

The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.

“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”

Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.

You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.

Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.

It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.

REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.

[iholdwhatican]

reunions

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

read part 2 here!

length: 3.8k

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension

summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?

author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3

originally posted by iholdwhatican

You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 

You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 

So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?

Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 

He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 

And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 

You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 

The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 

Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 

The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 

God, what the hell was wrong with you? 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 

Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 

You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 

You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 

Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 

The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 

You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 

“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 

You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 

The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 

He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 

God, you needed a cigarette. 

You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 

Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 

You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 

He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 

The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 

Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 

The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 

You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 

You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 

Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 

You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 

“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 

“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 

“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 

Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 

You needed another drink. Or ten. 

“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 

“More than anything else in this world.” 

Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 

It made something flip in your stomach. 

“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 

You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 

“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 

You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 

Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 

You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.

The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 

“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 

The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 

You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 

His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 

You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 

“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 

You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 

“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 

Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 

“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 

“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 

You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 

“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 

The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 

The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 

The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 

You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 

“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 

You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 

“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 

He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 

Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 

You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 

But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 

You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 

You really, really fucking liked this. 

When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 

It was unbelievably hot. 

As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 

You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 

[daisynik7]

Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 

[creamhoodie]

You Belong To Me

AN: Short Gojo drabble, he fails at being friends with benefits with you. tags: nsfw, fwb, afab reader, satoru gojo x reader

“What are you doing here with him?” a voice you’d recognize anywhere asks. His fingers run down your bare skin, the open back of your dress giving him easy access. 

You look up at him, his eyes blind folded but you know him well enough to recognize when he seems irritable by the rigid line his mouth formed. 

“I’m on a date, what does it look like, Gojo?” you reply, taking a sip of your shot that the bartender placed in front of you. 

Strobe lights and techno music filled the nightclub making him look more striking as the lights hit his white hair.

“Since when are we back to last name basis?” Satoru chuckles. 

His fingers still grace your back, the brief contact is enough to be electrifying, he knows just as much, seeming almost smug about the effect he has on you. 

“Since you interrogate me about my personal life,” you reply.

You look around, your date had wandered off to the restroom a few minutes ago and should be back soon. 

“Am I not part of your personal life? As I remember you and I were close just a few nights ago,” he teases. 

Your mind flashes back to being tangled in his sheets, him on top of you and you moaning his name as he-

“I remember,” you say, stopping your thoughts in their tracks,”but I also remember the terms of our.. ‘relationship.’”

He laughs. 

“You’re mad at me?” He asks. He bends down so he’s right at your earlobe, nibbling lightly. All the while his fingers stay drawing figures into your skin. 

“I am not mad,” you reply.

A lie. 

Oh yes you knew the terms of your relationship with him well. You had a friends with benefits arrangement with him. He had told you from the beginning ‘I don’t do relationships.’ 

That did nothing to dwindle the chemistry between the two of you and so several nights of the week you’d stay over at his place. You had reminded yourself, just because he laid kisses down your neck,breathed in your scent, and held onto you as if you were the anchor holding him to this Earth it didn’t mean he loved you. 

So it shouldn’t have come as a shock when you saw another woman’s perfume and hygiene items at his place one evening.

“You know what I think,” he places a kiss on your shoulder that sends shivers down your spine,”I think you’re a liar.”

A throat clears making you jump. 

Your date is back. 

He’s the type of man no one wants to see a woman they're involved with accompanied by. He’s muscular with dark cropped hair. You barely knew him, he had only propositioned you by contacting you through your socials.

“Oh Gojo this is my date,” you say.

Satoru takes his time straightening up, his lips remaining on your shoulder as if he’s almost daring your date to say something about it. He doesn’t.

At last Satoru straightens up and outstretches a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. 

Your date goes to shake it but he can’t seem to reach, almost as if there’s a barrier preventing him from touching Satoru. 

“Can you give us a moment alone?” you ask your date. 

He seems flushed from the handshake mishap and obliges.

When he’s out of earshot you turn to Satoru.

“That was mean of you, toying with him like that,” you say. 

Satoru tsks. 

“You’re seriously not gonna go home with that guy right?” he asks tugging at a strand of your hair. 

“And if I do, what business is it of yours?” you counter.

You guzzle the full shot glass now, it burns down your throat. 

“It is my business, because I care about you. Trust me I’m familiar with guys like him and they are no good,” he says. 

“And you’re better?” 

He laughs.

“In more ways than you can imagine.” 

You ask the bartender for another shot but Satoru waves him off.

“Hey-“ 

“You don’t need any more of that. You’re gonna wind up getting drunk,” he says. 

You face him fully now as your annoyance with him is at a peak. You don’t have to see his eyes to know he’s staring at your cleavage.

“Come home with me,” he says, his voice full of heat and lust. 

“I’m on a date,” you remind him. 

He scoffs.

“The nightclub? Some date. He only wants to fuck you.”

“And you don’t? What are you doing here anyways?” Perhaps he was also here with someone, you wouldn’t put it pass him. Maybe he was here with the mysterious woman whose products were back at his place.

“I’m here because you’re here, and you belong to me.”

____

“Mmm, just like that baby,” he whispers, his fingers spread your folds. He relishes your arousal.

His blind fold, long removed, serves as a sort of handcuff for you, tying your hands above your head on his bed frame. 

“Toru.. untie me,” you plead. You long to touch him, his white hair especially which was always so sinfully soft. 

“Not yet. You were a bad girl going out like that,” he says stern.

His fingers push upwards, just enough to soak themselves inside of you. When he retracts them, he brings them up to your lips with the simple demand of “suck.” 

You do, opening your mouth to taste yourself on his thick fingers. He watches, his blue eyes total flames full of lust. 

He pushes his fingers deeper, just down your throat enough to make you gag. He can be so mean when he’s jealous as you’re finding out. 

Pulling back his fingers, he begins to undo his belt.

“Toru my arms hurt,” you beg. 

“And you didn’t think it hurt for me to see you with someone else like that?” he asks, unyielding. 

His pants and boxers have been removed for his big cock to be plopping out, it’s firm already, the tip angry and reddened. 

He shoves it against your lips.

“Open up,” he pants. 

Your lips open around his shaft and you begin to suck him off. His hands go to your head, hands on each side to stabilize you and force you to take him. He helps you, bobbing your head up and down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. It burns even more than the shot did and tears begin to stream from your eyes.

“You’re so dumb, you’re so dumb baby were you going to let him fuck you? You don’t need anyone else, you have me.” 

You wanted to remind him that he’s the one who said he doesn’t do relationships, he’s the one who had told you not to expect exclusivity. But he was full of himself; his statement might have been only applicable for himself, and you were full of him, unable to speak, unable to do anything else but moan in muffles as his cock rammed your throat. 

You feel him finish, the saltiness of his fluid running down your throat. He pulls out of your mouth, letting you swallow and recollect yourself. 

“Toru, my arms,” you pant, catching your breath. 

He goes to untie you, and as your hands slip free you reach for him but there’s an invisible barrier..

“Turn it off Satoru, that's not fair!” you cry out. 

“Why should I? You have your little boyfriend to touch don’t you?” he teases. 

He’s enjoying this, making you grovel.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He sent me a DM and asked if I wanted to meet up,” you explain. 

He lifts a brow and cocks his head to the side.

“How romantic,” he sneers. 

“Satoru please. I’m sorry just turn it off,” you beg. You watch as he makes matters worse by removing his shirt, his muscles exposed. He knows that you loved touching them, loved running your hands over his abs and especially his muscled back whilst he was inside you. 

“I’ll turn it off when you answer why you went out with him,” he says. 

You’re frustrated both emotionally and sexually. 

“Because you said we’re not exclusive. You said you don’t do relationships,” you remind him. 

He huffs.

“Never bothered you before,” he says. 

“Well I just think it’s hypocritical that you get to have women over leaving their belongings but god forbid I go out on a date.”

His eyes widen in understanding at your words, followed by a playful twinkle. 

The barrier comes down and he comes up to you, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands run through his hair and he moans. His soft tongue connects with yours and you feel like he may devour you, may swallow you whole. 

Suddenly, he repositions you so you’re laying on your stomach and he pins your hands behind your back all in one swift motion.

He leans down so he can speak right into your ear.

“I know what I said. But you’re mine. You belong to me. What I do or don’t do doesn’t change that. You’ll always be mine when I want you.” 

Then you hear the ripping of your dress as he discards it and your panties off you completely. You hadn’t been wearing a bra, a fact he had noticed all too well when he had been staring at your cleavage in the club. 

You moan as you feel his length drag down your back like a wand all the way down until it was pressed between your wet folds. 

“F-fuck..so fucking tight,” he groans as he shoves his way in from the back. “This is my pussy. All mine. Don’t need some idiot ruining what belongs to me.” 

He’s bottomed out inside of you and your hands grip the bed sheets as he begins to thrust. 

“Satoru.. not so fast,” you moan as you feel his hands gripping your hair. 

But he’s grunting, and not holding back. 

“Feels so fucking good,” he moans delirious. 

The thing about Satoru is he can forget how well endowed he is, well not truly forget he is much too prideful for that, but he fails to understand just how it can feel for you. It’s only when you reach around and grip his wrist that he slows down a bit, laughing. “Sorry baby, I know it can be too much.” 

He slides out of you reluctantly and turns you on your back so you’re facing him. He puts you both in an intimate mating press as he slides into your pussy from the front now. He drives himself in so deep all the way into you until it’s at the base. 

“Mmm.. that’s it. Can you feel me here?” He asks his hand pressing down on your stomach where his thick dick bulges, your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Yes, ‘Toru. I feel you,” you cry out. 

“Good because you’re mine. You understand that? Get that into your pretty little head only I can fuck you here.”

He gives you a sloppy tongue filled kiss while he moves inside you, slowly and deliberately. You feel every ridge, every detail of his flesh and you can feel his pulse inside of you like it’s your own. 

Your hips buck up to meet his thrusts, needing more of him as the two of you kiss. 

You’re breathless as his lips move to your neck and still his strokes are so deliberately slow as if he wants you to memorize how he feels. 

Your hands go to his muscled back now, loving to leave scratches and love marks and he throws his head back and groans. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum, and it’s going right inside of you. I don’t wanna hear any protests, you got it?” He says his eyes are possessive and wild. 

You nod, in the mood he’s in right now you doubt anyone could talk him out of anything. 

His strokes are faster now, the lewd sounds of wet skin against skin along with your shared moans fill the room. 

By the curling of your toes you can feel your own orgasm coming.

“I wanna hear you say you’re mine. Need to hear you say it,” he practically demands.

“I’m yours. All yours Satoru.”

Your grip on him is so tight and he all but explodes into you. It doesn’t seem to stop after the initial burst, a steady stream flowing into you.

“Yeah.. fuck.. milk me,” he moans riding out his high. He’s not selfish in bed however for him true pleasure comes from getting you off so he rides out his orgasm, hitting your sweet gummy spot over and over.

His hands grip your breasts, playing with the sensitive nipples and causing you to gasp in ecstasy. When he leans forward and sucks on your tit that along with his continuous hitting of your sensitive spot causes you to orgasm.

The sensation is like falling off a cliff, a high only he’s been able to consistently bring you to. The two of you lay there for a moment holding onto each other’s sweaty bodies and catching your breath. Of course it is Satoru that breaks the silence.

“Can your little boyfriend make you feel that good?” 

______

After cleaning up, you’re in bed with Satoru. This isn’t new of course, he isn’t the type to kick you out even if it is a friends with benefits situation. 

The difference is before the two of you would watch tv or be on your phones, or he’d roll over and go to sleep.

Tonight is different.

He had held out his arms and told you to “come here.”

So you lay against his chest as he stroked your hair. 

It’s strange at first, but it feels right and so natural.

He clears his throat.

“So listen…will you be seeing that guy again?” he asks, trying to appear nonchalant.

You look up at him.

“No, I won’t.” 

He visibly relaxes.

“Good,” he says, the corner of his mouth slipping upwards into a smile.

“And you?” you ask.

He furrows his brow in confusion.

“What about me?” he asks.

“What about your mystery woman? The ones who has her items here,” you say with resentment in your voice. 

He shakes his head and laughs. 

“I bought those things for you, for when you stay over. I didn’t know what you used so I just bought some luxury brands. I just wanted the place to be stocked in case you ever forgot anything,” he says. 

You blush at his words. The only reason you had even gone out with that guy was because you were under the impression Satoru was entertaining someone else.

“And how do I know you don’t keep the place stocked for other women you bring over?” you ask.

His face darkens and is serious.

“Because there are no other women. Not for me. There’s only you.”

He says it with such sincerity you have to believe him.

“Sounds pretty exclusive…” your voice trails. 

“I want it to be. Tonight made me realize that I minded, no I more than minded seeing you with someone else,” he says. 

“Then how come before you said you don’t do relationships or any of that stuff?” you ask confused. 

He sighs and strokes your hair for a bit before answering.

“I have a habit of loving too hard. I can be suffocating, this you know well. I can be jealous. I can be too much. I just didn’t want to stifle you or scare you away. But I don’t want to leave it open ended anymore because that’s not the solution either. I can’t watch other guys try to swoop in.” 

His blue eyes look a thousand years old for a moment, then they are back to their playful self.

“So where does that leave us?” you ask. 

“It means you are stuck with me forever, baby. Whether you like it or not.”

AN: I am obsessed with possessive, jealous Gojo so I will be drabbling a lot about that. Also I described the date like Toji on purpose as an Easter Egg :)

[prettyboykatsuki]

later, then | i. rin

✮ tags ; gn!reader, pre-relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, rin in his actor era, assisstant!reader. this is sfw but i am an 18+ blog so minors do not follow me lol.

✮ wc ; 1.4k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @rabbbitseason that i had to rewrite a couple of times. i rlly liked being able to write something like this. i hope u like the direction i ended up going in sdjksdj

✮ synopsis ; on his last day of filming rin tried to keep you out of his thoughts.

"Rin-kun,"

He knows your voice well enough to know it's you before he even opens his eyes. "Hn,"

"We'll be shooting your scenes next," You say, tapping his shoulder lightly. "They told me to wake you up."

It's not like Rin to fall asleep on a set somewhere, no matter how tired he is. He's usually the type to push through it no matter what. It's petty, but it feels like he's lost otherwise.

He was exhausted before hand though. Months of shooting and he still can't get used to his schedule.

He's here from a morning flight from France that he took all the way back home to Japan. After he arrived, he immediately hailed a cab and busted ass to get here on time. He would normally rest on his journey but found he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.

Professor Heartbreak is a Japanese TV drama (airing domestically lived and internationally on Netflix) and Rin's first acting role. The series follows a romance between a graduate student caught in a lot of debt and her relationship to one of her pupils, college student and heir to mega corporation.

Rin has never had any interest in acting, and had even less interest in acting in a romance drama. His manager however urged (read: forced) him to take the offer, emphasizing how good it would be for his public image among other things. Of course, Rin still declined but no matter what he did - he couldn't actually seem to get out of doing it.

He's off-season now though he started filming during. He can say with confidence there's nothing he likes about the job. No matter how much his manager or director insists that all he needs is to have a pretty face - there's still a level of annoying obligation he feels towards doing it.

The reception was more positive then they were expecting. Apparently Rin is a half-decent actor. He's not playing a character he feels is so different from him, if not much more cringe.

Rin plays the love interest Yukio. Not very expressive and rich with a tendency to chase what he wants. Generally aggressive about the female love interest.

It doesn't suit him and he doubts he'll do it again. But a lot went into getting the role. If he's going to do it at all, he might as well do it well.

Rin hates shit that's half-assed after all, lukewarm acting doesn't suit him.

Today is the last day of shooting and happens to be one of the last scenes. Shooting is sometimes chronological, but not always. Regardless, after today it'll be the last time Rin steps foot on this set. No more long nights, or trying to memorize lines, no more out of place press runs. The practice season will start again and he can go back to the busy he's been used to since the debut of his soccer career.

That also means it'll be the last time you and Rin spend time in the same room. It's the first thing he thinks of when you wake him.

Rin sits up and carefully rubs his eye, careful not to disturb the makeup he wears for set.

"When the fuck did I sleep?"

You laugh under your breath, handing him a water bottle like you already knew he would want one. He takes it from you and takes a long drink trying to wake himself up.

"Been a little over an hour. Hour and a half, maybe. Did you sleep okay?"

He scowls, just slightly. "It was fine."

"I'm glad you slept well," You add, voice full of mirth and amusement as you read between the lines said all too easily.

He was moody when he came on set with you, worse then normal and refused to sleep. You suggested he rest his eyes and Rin scoffed at you for thinking he's so stupid. He's not a kid you can trick into going to sleepy.

You conceded easily, made a single sly comment about hoping he's all there when it's his turn. It'd be a shame if he had to keep shooting the same scene and ended up home late after all. Enough of a provocation to submit to your stupid suggestion.

Rin supposes this was why his manager hired you in the first place. You're in a temporary position, your contract to be in place until filming is over and Rin's back on normal scheduling. Rin realized pretty early on that you're more like a glorified babysitter then an assistant which is why he didn't have very pleasant expectations of you at the start.

But you're competent. Push without pushing too far. Clever even when it's annoying. You've known each other for a year and the only thing that binds you is work but you're with him all the time. Maybe it's just the job, but it still feels like you know him better then most.

Not like he cares.

Realizing he was tired enough to sleep and goading him into doing it are two separate things though. But you've managed both pretty easily which he can admit is a feat. You're always like that. You remind him a little of another annoying striker in that way.

A quiet settles between you. Rin gropes around for his phone, checking his messages and the time. Still a few hours until the set wraps and no doubt social obligations afterwards. He groans.

"I'm going home after we're done shooting,"

"You can't," You say, apologetic. "Manager says you have to show your face during the after party."

"That doesn't make any fucking sense."

"You're the main male love interest, you should at least drop in for a little bit. Have a beer, unwind."

"I don't like drinking,"

"A soda then. Don't be so stubborn."

Rin huffs, carefully pushing a hand through his hair careful not to mess up the styling. There's a beat of silence.

"Are you going?"

"To the drinking party?"

Rin looks at you as if to ask isn't it obvious. You just chuckle.

"Why?" You tease. "Will you stay longer if I go?"

Rin pauses. And it's quiet for just a second too long before he realizes. You seem to understand the implication almost instantly.

Even before Rin who catches himself just a second too late.

"...I don't mind staying with you until you've filled your quota. If that's what you're asking." You supply.

Rin frowns, faint warmth creeping his neck. "Then do that."

You fight back a smile. "Sure, sure. What time were you thinking of leaving?"

"As soon as possible," He says bluntly. You laugh that time. Brightly. Sincerely.

"Seems like a waste. You can handle fifteen minutes without me, right? Doesn't feel like I need to go if we're gonna part ways so soon anyhow."

Rin pouts. A petulant, ugly feeling in him. He speaks without thinking. "You're saying it like we're never gonna see each other again,"

You both catch it.

"Are we?" You're grinning at him where you stand next to him, eyes cast down to look at his face. He fights off a blush but fails to keep from turning red. Fuck. "Seeing each other again, I mean."

He doesn't know what it is exactly that makes him answer the way he does.. "No shit."

You grin, beam really - and your fingers brush his hand on the couch. Rin jolts, clearly in deeper than he thought.

"Okay. Then let's go together and get something to eat after," You say, coy. "Since we're seeing each other again,"

Rin rubs a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Shut up. Fine. Whatever,"

You laugh again no longer hiding it. He hands his water bottle to you as he gets called onto set. Standing to his feet, he takes a breather to stretch out all his limbs.

You give him a mischievous smile, staring at him openly when something seems to strike you. Like you've just realized something.

"Rin-kun. Bend down a little. I need to tell you something."

Confused but not concerned, he complies without thinking.

You place your copy of the script strategically to obscure both your faces, and in a single split second - Rin feels something soft and warm press against his cheek followed by another giggle like a bell chime. He flusters, instantly scowling and tomato-faced and nearly cussing as you look so self-satisfied.

(Warm. So warm where you linger on his skin. Hot where you've touched him despite how brief.)

"For good luck. I'll see you later then. Knock 'em dead, okay?"

He curses under his breath before they call him one more time and he watches you disappear to go do the other half of your job. He puts his hand to his cheek and takes a breath.

Stupid. He closes his eyes and buries the explosion of feeling in him as he replies to no one in particular.

"Idiot."

[abbyshands]

brat tamer abby plsplssplsplssss maybe her spanking reader for not listening 😣

♡ warnings; dom!abby, mean!abby, spanking, mommy kink, brat tamer x brat dynamics, abby calls reader baby/babygirl, degrading

PALESTINE LINKS | before engaging !!! | click before you fic ♡ | | join my tag list!

brat tamer!abby who’s got you laid across her lap, your bare ass up for her as she spanks you again and again. your bottom is sore, utterly bruised, but considering what you had pulled on her, it was deserved. “want my sweet girl, but she’s obviously not here,” the cruel words draw out from abby’s lips, and you let out a loud moan as her hand comes down to spank your ass once more. “i am here, mommy! please, m’right here,” you whine, begging helplessly, but you know it’s no use: when abby’s got her mind made up, changing it was impossible. “yeah, s’that right? i don’t fucking buy it, baby. can’t not listen to me and just change up like this. you’re a fucking brat. a bad girl. and bad girls get punished, huh …” abby replied mercilessly. it didn’t matter how needy you were for her. you’d broken a rule, and you wouldn’t get rewarded—not unless you learned your lesson. regardless, unable to help yourself, mind screaming to bark back, you spoke up once more. “i’m not a bad girl. barely feel your spanks, mommy,” you challenge, allowing your eyes to meet abby’s for a split second as you smirk, a playful giggle slipping past your lips. but abby isn’t laughing: in fact, she’s scowling. a hard, heavy hand comes down on your ass, making you squeal in abby’s lap, your eyes shutting closed. “fuck!” you groan annoyedly, even if you knew full well you deserved it. “god, such a bad slut, huh? remember who you’re fucking speaking to, babygirl. because if you don’t?” abby says callously, and as her word comes to an end, she spanks you once again, harder this time. “s’all you’ll get all night. mommy won’t make you cum. i’ll just spank you, over, and over,” she says, hitting your bottom as she enunciates her words. by now, you can’t respond, not verbally, anyway. so, you merely whimper in response, and it’s adorable, because it makes abby chuckle, but it isn’t enough for her. it never is. “cute, baby. but you’re gonna have to give me more if you want me to fuck you. tell me you’re gonna be a good girl. tell me you’re gonna be good for me.” you oblige easily, eagerly, nodding as quickly as your head will go. “please, besogood,” you whine. not enough. “c’mon, babygirl, know you can do better, s’much as i love hearing you whimper for me. c’mon,” abby urges. you give her what she’s asking for, managing a barely coherent, “i’ll be good, mommy,” and abby isn’t shy in smacking your ass again before responding. “attagirl.”

♡ a/n; also: can’t convince me she’s not looking at you like this while you’re laid across her lap. i rest my case <3

divider creds !

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Can I just have a small bit of headcanons or a Drabble on your pick of multi Gotham boys and their hands? Like I dunno if this is weird or not but kinda like just a dive down on what their hands feel like, who’s are soft and who’s are rough, who has vein hands, who has calloused hands. Just that kind of stuff please?🙏🤭🥺 (reason being of a specific hand edit I saw on tiktok 💀, also don’t feel obligated to do this if you don’t wanna. I completely understand.)

'FLESH, [hand! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Jonathan Crane

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villains and how they use their hands on reader ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. Not pure porn but smut. Suggestive. Might be the most vanilla thing i've written? but I love this request so much and I AM A SLUT for these men. Canon typical violence for Victor, Oswald getting a little rough ;)

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “This is just my way of unleashing the feelings deep inside of me.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

I know what you're thinking.

Oswald's hands? Out of every Gotham man I could've chosen???

YES. YES OSWALD'S HANDS. Have you seen this mans HANDS? Whether they are on a knife, or in those red gloves, or if he's leaning forward on them? All predatory like...

Not to mention...the VEINS. In almost every scene I've seen of this man? His hands are VEINY. Skinny bird man is not living up to that penguin stereotype, especially not in the earlier seasons.

God- just the way he stirs the wine glass or glass of brandy. Yeah. He's thinking and wishing it was your thighs he was holding, staring into the golden swirls.

The man has some issues with being nervous during sex, but when he lets loose he lets LOOSE. And he becomes feral, desperate, grinding and PAWING for every part of you he can kiss and hold and worship.

C'mon. We see the way he grips that cane of his. The way he holds the custom made knife. The way he gets his knuckles all bloody from hitting Fish or doing his own dirty work in season 1.

Also...going back to those red gloves of his. Could you imagine? Him making you grind yourself into the palm of his hand, watching you, mesmerized at the feeling of skin on leather.

He just wants to watch you writhe from pleasure. His little true love all needy for him and his hands. Gah.

He's so flustered, by the way, if you tell him you like his hands. He's sputtering, and asking why, but that little cheeky (and villainous mastermind) part of him is making a note to use them even more.

"You-," He says with a bit of an unbelieving smile, brows furrowed, voice wavering before his face turns to a look of complete shock, "You want me to what?"

Don't get him wrong, he's listening intently to your wishes, he just looks like he's seen a ghost at your vulgarity. He's not used to being wanted.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “You can dominate the game 'cause I'm tough / This spark of black that I seem to love.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

This man might have the most iconic hands out of EVERYONE on this list.

I mean, c'mon now. When you think of leather-clad knuckle-less gloves, who do you think of?

The man, the myth, the legend himself. Victor Zsasz has the hands of a working man and he likes to use them.

These are the same hands he carries his guns in, the same trigger finger that will pump inside you while you mewl around him.

In all seriousness, though, he LOVES his hands too. They are his favorite part of his body. Without his hands, what would he be able to do? He's skilled with them. Pleasuring you with them is no different.

They are slightly calloused from the sharp edges of the guns he holds, but he's learned to use his gloves to protect them. Regardless, the old scars and marks from when he was just a boy playing with a tec-9 still remain.

Also, he canonically wears rings when we first see him in the show. Yeah, he's using that to his advantage.

You'll feel the cold metal as he drags a finger along your spine, watching you shiver. He'll do that lazy side-smirk, breathing heavily as he watches you arch up into him just from a touch.

Don't tell him you love his hands. Please, for the sake of the zsaszettes having to suffer a total EGO trip. He's taking it in stride.

But if you do happen to mention it...he's bragging about it.

Every time he gets complimented on a nice shot, he's bring you up.

I can imagine him holding someone hostage, whether its Jim or someone else. He notices them staring at the gun in his hand, full of fear, and he'll look flattered.

"Oh? Are you staring at my hands? Sorry, I'm taken." He's mentioning, off-hand, to the rando he's kidnapped. It doesn't matter if the hostage is a full on 50 year old man. "My girlfriend says she loves my hands. Y'know, life's work, and all that."

𝐽𝛰𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝐶𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “This is not the way into my heart, into my head. / Into my brain, into none of the above.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

Okay, maybe i’m just a monster fucker, but HEAR ME OUT!!

Uncut nails behind those talons of his on his costume. On or off.

Sometimes, he’ll be fully clothed, drawing scratch-marks into your skin, lowly humming in pleasure. That little spark of fear in your eyes when he draaaaaags down just right makes him go crazy.

He can’t help it. You’re his armeggedon, his muse, his savior all in one. The remedy to his madness…and you get all worked up from just a touch. It strokes his ego, like Victor, but he’s quieter about it.

Dirt beneath his fingernails, callouses and blisters from working with those damned poisons. He’s suffered a chemical burn or two, and you’ll see the small circle scars on his knuckles.

You’re like his personal test subject. He likes to study you- watch your expressions when he glides his nails down your skin, almost touching you- but not quite.

Surprisingly a tease when he finds out. He’s nonchalant. He won’t let you see the sheer arousal simmering beneath the surface.

But boy, it’s there. His heavy breathing. It affects him just as much as it effects you. The chill down your back, the shivers left in his wake. He takes his time edging playing with you.

You might need to ask him to cut them lowkey because they can be kinda painful when he’s fingering you. Or…if you’re into that little sting of pain while his tongue massages your clit through his mask.

He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s filthy.

“There you go, little mouse. You like it, don’t you?” He pauses, in thought, while you grind for friction like a cat in heat against his finger tips. “I wonder…where I should sink my claws into you next?”

That damned deep voice of his…the subtle curl of his fingers inside you. Before you know it, he’s pumping in and out, trying to elicit the most vulgar reactions from you. He can’t help it. For a man who prides himself on control…he looses it all when he’s with you.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#376

“Hey Caleb.  You were in that bathroom for a while.  Big shit or were you giving it a tug?  Considering your swim trunks is showing no bulge whatsoever, I doubt you were enjoying your right hand.  Or do you use the left?  Me personally, I’m a lefty….

“Your dad and I were just talking by the pool.  I asked him how long he knew you were gay….  Oh I wish you could see the shocked look on your face.  So you haven’t told him.  He was shocked too.  He said you weren’t.  I told him that I’ve been around sperm burpers all my life and you were a classic pole rider.

“You haven’t said much.  Not one word of protest.  You are just trying to figure out what your next step is going to be.  Don’t worry, I love fucking with your dad.  He’s worked for me for ten years now.  He knows my sense of humor and just brush it off.  Besides he’s been drinking.  But I got enough out of him to convince me that you definitely gob the knob.

“You wanna swing on my dick, or not?  Here let me take it out for ya.  I can see by the lump forming in your shorts that you want it.  Am I right?...  Your dad likes to say that you are quiet and keep to yourself.  I can see that.  Just nod then.

“Ok, let’s do this then.  This guest room’s toilet serves as the overflow bathroom.  Someone will interrupt us.  Come with me.  My bedroom will offer us some more privacy.  Your dad already thinks you are off reading a book on your phone.  Nobody is going to miss me for a while….  It’s a large house.  When I bought it, I had an addition put on for my master suite….  When you enter my bedroom, lose the swim trunks.  Boys are to be naked at all times in my bedroom.

“Damn boy, you are rock hard.  So, were you jerking off or taking a dump in the toilet?...  Look, when it comes to sex, I cut to the point.  There’s no need to be coy.  I’m going to be fucking that pussy of yours, and I want to know if you are empty first.  Good.  Did you also give it a tug?...  Of course, you did. 

“Come here.  Point to the guy you were jerking off to….  You are at a construction company pool party where 80% of the men here work for me.  There are more muscles out there from hard work than a fag like you can take in.  Which one?...

“…Of course, you would go for Stan.  So you like big guys?  He’s six four and built like a brick shit house.  Have you talked to him?...  He can be a bit of an gruff asshole.  The guys call him Ox.  He has a dick to match.  Not the brightest guy, but damn he’s a hard worker and a brutal fucker.  Yeah, he’s tag teamed with me a couple of times.  He can fuck for hours.

“Come with me.  This closet door leads downstairs to my hidden playroom.  I had it specifically designed and loaded up for just about every kink my dick was interested in.  You’re what 20?  You probably don’t know about all these things.  I do know this: you are leaking up a storm. 

“Don’t touch yourself.  Let the leak flow.  Why don’t you have a look around?  I need to text a few of my guests to let them know that I had to step away for a bit.

“That’s a St. Andrew’s cross.  If you have an interest in being whipped, I’d be happy to oblige….  Didn’t think so. 

“Those are my four rim seats.  They are for eating ass.  Depending on my mood, they vary based on how secure the boy is underneath.  That last one secures the boy’s legs up so he can get fucked while he’s eating my shithole. 

“No. No.  Leave your dick alone.  I want you to leak….

“There.  All the appropriate texts have been sent.  Now, we’ll have some time to really have fun.  Come over there.  This is a fuck bench.  Simple.  Easy access both holes.  Climb up.  Knees go here; elbows here.

“Oh, you have a pretty cunt.  Nice….  Oh, you are not as tight as I thought you would be; my finger just slid in.  I take it you are not a virgin.  That’s fine.  I get it, a cunt needs to be fed.  You get fucked at college?...  Kinda figured. 

“Ever been tied up?...  No?  There’s always a first time. 

“Ok, so here’s the situation.  I’ve applied a small amount of lube to your cunt lips.  Your mouth, or rather your throat needs to put some slime on me.  I will probably go between your holes.

“I put a sludge plate under your dick to collect your pre-cum and when I eventually allow you, your cum.

“Open wide…. Oh fuck.  Your mouth feels good.  Oh shit, you know how to work your tongue.  You little faggot whore.  Oh man.  Fuck.

“I gotta try that cunt.  If it’s as good as your throat, boy…

“…Right to the root.  Right to the fucking root.  Wait.  What the fuck?...  Do that again….  Boy you are something.  I could just stand here, and you can squeeze my cock like that all day.  It feels like you are jerking me off with your hole.

“Where the fuck did you learn all this?  No twenty-year-old stumbles on how to treat a cock like you.  Who taught you?

“…Your math professor?  Damn, I never would have thought a math professor would have been so twisted. 

“Say faggot, you have a job?...  Living off your dad, hunh?  You probably go out looking for dick when he’s at work.  You fucking faggot whore.  How would you like to come work for me?  It’ll be in my main office.  It’s a tiny office, just me and my manager Dwight.  You’ll actually have office responsibilities in addition to servicing me and Dwight.  Yeah, he’s another guy that I work with that I play around with.  I employ four or five guys that also enjoy using faggots like you, although Dwight also uses bitches too.

“This is a serious offer.  Your dad doesn’t need to know anything other than you are working in my office.  I need to have these holes accessible.  You want to do that?...

“…Fuck yeah!  I’m getting close faggot.  Keep doing what you are doing.  Oh shit.  Oh shit!  Here it cums!  Shit yeah!

“You keep performing like this, and I’ll pay you what I do your dad.

“So, did the math professor teach you other kinks?…  Eating ass and piss drinking!  Hell yeah!  So you have been under a rim seat?...  No, he just sat on your face.  Did he tie you up, or get rough?...  He wanted to?  Boy, when a man wants to use you the way he wants you need to let him.

“Oh fuck, climb down.  And keep my load in you.  Here hop up on this fuck table.  I want to sample that tongue.  Legs go in the stirrups.  I will be securing your legs in them….  Wrists will be secure at your sides in these cuffs.

“You still in contact with the professor?...  Good.  I want to invite him over some weekend so we can use you all weekend long. 

“This table was designed for butt play as well as eating ass.  Your head goes here onto the head rest off the end.  I can lower the head rest and your head back so that opens your throat to a deep straight throat fuck, but I primarily use it by lifting it up like this to support your head when I straddle it like this.  Now your face is wedged in my ass, with me just standing here.  Get that tongue going.

“Oh fuck.  Fag, this will definitely be part of your office responsibilities.  Dwight will love it too.  As will Ox….

“Hey Ox….

“Faggot, I took the liberty of telling Ox to join us when I sent out those texts.

“Holy shit Ox, this is Murphy’s boy.  He’s a total cunt pig.  I just hired him to work for me in the main office.  Wait until you try his holes. 

“Shut up faggot!  This doesn’t concern you….  Get back to sticking your tongue into my shitter.

“He does this pulse thing with his cunt muscles.  You have to try it.  My load is still inside.

“Hey fagboy, you ever have a baseball bat in your cunt?...  No?...  Well it would have been practice for what’s about to be shoved into you.  You know that bulge you jerked off to is going in your twat.

“Scream in my ass.  Keep that tongue going in deep.  Oh fuck! 

“Look at how much he’s leaking.  Give it to him.  Hard.  He’s shaking.  Keep plowing….  Oh shit!  He’s fucking cumming.  Without his hands, that’s fucking amazing.

“Fag, I don’t care that you shot a huge load.  Ox takes a while to get going.  I’ll be right back.  Ron Owens needs to try you out. 

“Fag, while I’m gone, I want you to focus on the man you jerked off to—the man that is tearing up your cunt.  Here, let me undo your hands.  Run them over his chest.  Feel those muscles and that chest hair.

“Ox, don’t you dare cum before we get back.  Keep pile driving into him, and don’t let up, even if he begs.”

“Faggot, this is only the beginning….”

[classicslesbianopinions]

in ovid's metamorphoses he describes an argument between jupiter and juno where they debate whether men or women experience more sexual pleasure. jupiter says women do; juno says men do. obviously this is a weird fucked up they-ought-to-be-divorced sort of couple dynamic but anyway then they bring in tiresias, a man who apparently was once transformed into a woman and then back into a man seven years later, to be the judge. tiresias says women have more fun during sex and juno takes away his eyesight for disagreeing with her and then jupiter gives him the gift of prophecy to compensate. but that's just one person's opinion. so:

no see results. if you're not trans/haven't gone on hormones/don't have sex come back in a week. i also am not on hormones and will not be answering or seeing the results until the poll is over. (if you used to be on hormones and aren't anymore feel free to answer for how you felt while you were on hormones.)

feel free to put any nuances in the replies or reblogs or tags--but also no one is obligated to share details of their transition unless they want to and feel comfortable doing so.

disclaimer also that i personally do not equate a person's hormones or sex characteristics with their gender identity--i use "man" and "woman" for tiresias because it's the language ovid uses but of course gender is way more nuanced than that. i use "transmasc" and "transfem" as umbrella terms but recognize that they might not apply to everyone.

my hypothesis is that people who choose to go on hormones/have surgery will have more sexual pleasure on hormones/after surgery because they are having an experience that better aligns with their gender. and please don't feel like you need to separate out the physical experience from the emotional--both physical and emotional pleasure are relevant to whether or not an orgasm is good.

uhh and i promise no gods will blind you as a result of this poll.

[wynnyfryd]

💖 2024 Steddie Fic Recs 💖

@thefreakandthehair and i were talking about how so many of the fics we can name off the top of our heads are from right after the show came out because we were still actively making rec lists back then, so:

in no particular order i present to you an incomplete list of fics i love that were published or completed within the last two months

short fics (<10k)

Found God In A Tomato by @beetlesandstarss 5.7k | rated M | fluff, text fic

syrupy sweet strangers to first date fic. without spoiling anything, eddie is a flustered cutie and steve is a fuckin' menace who's lucky he's so hot

he tightened he grip by @steddieas-shegoes 1.3k | rated E | crack not treated remotely seriously

Mickala beloved your commitment to the bit makes me wanna commit myself to you 💍

Slide It In by gayhandshake 1.8k | rated E | multimedia crack

another truly impeccable work of crack fic, i laughed so hard at the first image that i made it the icon for my private discord server

what's that sound? (there's a funny man at my door) by @jewishrat420 4.8k | rated M | spicy six text fic

laughed out loud at this fic so many times i really don't know what else to tell you. as a matter of fact, i went to look at my bookmark note to see what else i had to say about it when i read it, and my note just says "fucking hilarious i laughed out loud like 6 times" 💀 did not do not will never know what else to tell you except that the phrase "the goyim of gender" just randomly pops into my brain once every four or so days now

medium fics (10-20k)

In the Kitchen or the Tulips by @teddywesworl 44k | rated E | telepathic soulmate AU

this fic said "watch me flip this trope inside out like a freshly cubed half of an avocado" and then DELIVERED. i finished this fic and then stared at the side of my husband's head for long enough that he looked over and went "wtf are you doing" lmao hush baby i am contemplating the implications

they're going to send us to prison for jerks by @greatunironic 16k | rated E | social media AU

okay firstly the premise of this fic is so specifically and delightfully unhinged; love that i'm not the only one who looks at a random tiktok account and manically whispers to myself "there's a fic in there somewhere." secondly the execution is a 10 outta 10 outta 10 outta TEN

long fics (50k+)

Sneaky Link by @morningberriesao3 152k | rated E | onlyfans au

the sex is HOT the boys are dumb as goddamn ROCKS what more do you need? oh, what's that? you do need more? sick because this fic also has: the tags "cum slut eddie munson" and "everyone is gay (because i say so)", chrissy the homophobe slayer being the cutest little spy, and jason getting his ass whooped, like, spiritually. on a spiritual level. physically unharmed but that boy's soul is missing teeth do u understand what i am saying

podfics!

it was love, love alone read by @reena-jenkins 21min | rated E

am i technically reccing my own fic on my own fic rec list? you bet your sweet ass i am, i don't even care how tacky that is reena's performance is hilarious and deserves to be listened to at least 40 more times while doing the dishes

relax (lay it back) read by @flintandfuss 1hr 10min | rated E | yogi dom steve x sub eddie

listen if i'm already being gauche then i gotta include my internet wife's belated birthday present to me, like i gotta. morally and lustfully obligated.

Schiava by @teddywesworl read by aheada_lettuce 1hr 30min | rated E | kas!eddie AU

said it once already today and i'll say it again, i cannot believe one of the best reading voices i've ever heard belongs to a person i mentally refer to as fucking lettuce LOL anyway this read is incredible and i have listened to it Times(tm)

and lastly, if you want more recs (like, 348 more specifically), you can browse my full list of public st bookmarks here