#please for the love of fuck if i have messed up anything in this post PLEASE let me know

[muqingslover]

[ you know it ladies, it's me, the virgin Caleb truther back at it again. I added a tag just this so you can find the posts easily under "virgin Caleb agenda" ;) ]

Let's talk about how messy Caleb is when he eats you out for the first time. His mouth moving in a way that's clumsy and almost awkward, unsure of what he is allowed or should do now that he's come this far. Was he supposed to use his fingers too? Well, he can safely assume he has to use his mouth to some extent but only god knows where he's supposed to actually put his tongue on...or in. Every woman is different, or so he's heard.

Oh but don't think he's anything if not eager because he has enthusiasm to spare. The only problem is that he doesn't know what feels good for you. He has his pride too sometimes and wouldn't want to ask for your help, not at first, so he can prove he is able to do something on his own too, but honestly? That is not happening, not this time at least.

By all means push this man down and take a seat on his face. Grab him by his hair, tight enough that he'll groan at his strands being tugged, and tell him to keep his tongue out and you'll take care of the rest. Having you manhandling him despite knowing he's stronger does things to his brain cock and god when you start to ride his mouth? He's died and gone to heaven.

His dazed eyes remain trained on you, taking in every and each moan that leaves your lips, while one of his hands pump his hard, leaking cock. You taste so damn good that he just can't stop himself from wanting more— His tongue darts out to push inside your little hole, relishing the sound of your gasp and feeling his confidence growing by the sight of you trembling in pleasure. Caleb absolutely loves when you use him, depend on him, need him, and gets off on the fact that he's the one making you let out those sweet sounds even if he's not in charge this time. He fucks your cunt with his wet muscle like a starved man, both spit and your juices dripping down his chin in a delicious mess that he couldn't be more proud of.

The clenching around his tongue makes him wish it was around his cock instead, oh how heavenly it would surely be to push himself into that warm, tight pussy of yours. Your hand tugged harder on his hair when you came, pressing yourself down and further into his mouth as your thighs tensed up around his head, unintentionally cutting off the man's air for a moment too long. When you realized you immediately tried to check on him, afraid you might've killed the man, only to feel Caleb shuddering and moaning against you like a bitch, finding him in a state of absolute ecstasy after lifting your hips off of him. His eyes glazed and his cheeks flushed a dark shade of red while he grinned, licking his drenched lips and feeling his own orgasm running through his quivering body.

"Please, do that again." Is all the man would say as he tried to catch his breath. He looked forward to the next thing he would learn about your body and maybe, just maybe, he also hoped that you would let him fuck you if he was an obedient, patient boy.

[ghost-proofbaby]

"AND JUST LIKE ALL THOSE TIMES BEFORE, YOU WEAR YOUR BEST APOLOGY. BUT I WAS THERE TO WATCH YOU LEAVE."

summary: you finally see all the damage done.

warnings: strong language, angst, mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, direct mention of cocaine usage, reactions to possible overdose, mentions of making someone throw up/someone throwing up, thoughts of death/losing someone. dead dove - do not eat. and, please, minors dni.

wc: 5.3k+

a/n: i need to emphasize the warnings for this chapter. it's not a pretty one, and i must emphasize that this is not meant to be glorifying this behavior at any capacity - if anything, take note of how damaging and destructive it is. if you are unable to read due to warnings, let me know, and i will post a more direct summary of this chapter to be read in place of it. thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for beta-reading this one (and for always letting me ramble about this story endlessly) <3

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Show me what you’ve become, Eddie. 

You need to be more careful what you wish for these days. 

Gareth nearly runs into you when you pause mere steps within the apartment, looking around and trying to swallow down all your shock. He’d warned you, tried to prepare you for the worst, but you hadn’t expected this. 

The penthouse is hardly recognizable from how you’d witnessed it during the weekend. 

It’s a mess, an explosion of loose-leaf paper and empty beer bottles across every room within view – the living room, the kitchen, the hallway. Not one, but two ashtrays filled to the brim sit patiently on the coffee table. You can make out butts of cigarettes, as expected, but there’s also plenty of roaches to catch your eye. Burnt down to the filter, sucked dry for all they were worth. You swear you see broken glass, and when you find the strength to stumble forward one more step, you confirm it. 

Not broken out of anger, but seemingly having slipped off the edge of the coffee table. 

“Fuck,” the expletive falls from your lips before you can think better of it. The longer you stare at the scene, the worse it all comes to light. 

Pens thrown astray, plenty of glasses laying on their side on both the floor and couch.  Sticky rims, sparse ashes flickered about. You see one empty bottle of whiskey, and have no doubt there’s another – possibly multiple – scattered throughout the apartment. 

“I told you,” Gareth says weakly, placing an attempt of a comforting hand on your shoulder, “It gets bad.”

How can so much damage happen over four measly days? 

You try to shrug off Gareth’s hand, but he tightens his grip, “Look, maybe we should leave. Matt and I can handle this-” 

“No,” you snipe, pulling far from him, taking several steps into the wreckage. “I told Matt that Eddie was my problem now, and I meant it. You can leave if you want, but I’m staying.” 

Eddie’s clearly not out here in the living room. There’s a deep imprint on the couch that looks like he may have been there recently, but he’s long gone. All that’s left is the mess, and a sinking feeling in your gut as you spy another terrible item on the coffee table. 

Gareth spots it just as you do, as well. 

“Listen, I really think we should leave.” 

The magazine with that blurry, candid photo of the two of you on the cover, bold and bright letters obscuring it. Those, and the little white line you can spot remnants of across the shiny paper. 

“I’m not fucking leaving, Gareth.” 

What the fuck happened in the last four days? 

Had you said something wrong that night? One wrong step, in a fatal direction, sending Eddie right into this crash out? Had it been the contract, and how hastily you had signed it, that sent him straight into spinning out of control? 

You lean down to snatch up one of the glasses discarded onto the floor, unphased by the residue of alcohol that clings to your fingers. The overwhelming and nauseating scent of pure whiskey almost makes you sick. 

“Does this happen every time?” you ask, trying to keep your voice even, almost too quiet to be heard over the drumming in your chest, “Does this- is this fucking normal to you guys?” 

He gets this way.

You kick a pile of papers, eyes wandering over deeply scratched words in black ink. 

This is sort of normal for him.

“Do you guys just-” you struggle to find the words, looking around at this mess. All the red flags, all the reasons to run, and all you feel is a terrible pull towards Eddie. The need to find him, the need to refuse to leave him alone through this all, is rampant in your chest. “Do you guys really just leave him during times like this? When he clearly needs you most?” 

You swear, you’ve started to see red. 

When you turn to face Gareth, he’s holding his hands up, face twisted in defensiveness, “Hey, listen, it’s not like that-”

“Then what is it like?” 

If Eddie’s in this apartment, he can surely hear you. Your voice is no longer quiet and timid, wavering with each syllable. Loud and clear, ready for a fight. 

“You haven’t been here this last year!” Gareth raises his own voice to match yours, seeming more desperate than agitated, “It’s not like we just- just- gave up on him!”

And yet, that’s exactly what it looks like has happened. 

Every single person that has become a staple in Eddie’s life has seemingly given up on him. They’ve given up fighting for him, on pushing him, on offering a helping hand. They claim to have grown weary, broken bones and patience alike in the battle of forcing Eddie to be a better person. And standing here in this apartment, seeing what they so clearly try to cover up and ignore, you know they’re going about it wrong. 

You don’t have to force Eddie to be a better person. He already is a good person, somewhere deep down. 

“That’s exactly what it looks like!” you laugh coldly, waving about the apartment, “You all clearly knew what to expect, what- what this place was going to look like. You knew what was happening, and you’re doing nothing.”

Gareth’s nostrils flare with one deep breath, and you already know what he’s about to say is going to cut deep, “Aren’t you the one that simply vanished on him? On all of us?” 

He’s right. The blow of the truth would have jarred you more had you not been prepared. 

“I didn’t know,” you say lowly, narrowing your eyes at the boy before you, “I had no idea he had gotten this bad-”

“Oh, c’mon,” Gareth shakes his head, turning and walking carefully through the damage, gesturing about just as you had been, “You’re not stupid. We both know you aren’t. What else did you think was happening?” Another step, and you can hear the crunch of glass beneath the sole of his shoe that has you cringing, “That Eddie was just… having the time of his life? That everything was perfect?” he pauses on the other side of the couch, and you can see a world of hurt behind his big brown eyes. “You knew better than that. You knew him better than that.”

What had you thought was going on when Eddie pulled away so suddenly?

Had you really known Eddie as well as Gareth is assuming right now? 

Your eyes flutter shut as your throat tightens, because the hard pill to swallow is that’s exactly what you had thought. That Eddie’s life was finally perfect. That he was living his wildest dreams. That there was only one bump in the road to his otherworldly success, in the terrible shape of you. 

“You…” You don’t know what those last months were like. You don’t have the sound of Eddie’s voicemail memorized. You don’t wake up from nightmares to the sound of a dial tone in place of future plans bursting into flames. You don’t know the silence. “You’re right.”

You could spend days standing here as you made excuses. One after another, a list longer than the miles once put between you and Eddie. Dissect every possibility you’d deemed possible, and drudge up all the ones you’d simply refused to see in the daylight. 

Fighting with Gareth doesn’t make this right. Fighting with one of the boys you’d grown up with doesn’t erase the situation at hand. 

“Everything was going to shit a long time before you left, y’know,” Gareth’s voice finally breaks a bit, and you look up to find the rims of his eyes pink as they hold back tears, “I don’t know why you left, none of us do, but I’m willing to bet all the blood money I’ve made from this band that it’s because of something an awful lot like this.” 

“I did what I had to do,” you defend yourself so weakly that even you don’t believe the words. 

“Exactly. Just like we have been since you left.” 

There’s more to say and more to argue about, but it’s enough for now. You don’t want to waste another second here, pointing fingers at who’s in the wrong and who’s to blame. Really, all you want to do is find Eddie. 

So you do just that. You decide to make a beeline for the hallway.

“I-” Gareth takes a few steps towards you, but you don’t slow down. He has the common sense to follow, “Where are you going?” 

“He’s obviously not in there,” you say through heavy breaths, fighting tears and pausing between the two doors at the end of the hall. The in-house studio, or the bedroom. “We can fight about it later. I don’t care, I just-”

You choose the bedroom. 

All your words die on your tongue as you throw open the door and see him, all the oxygen in your lungs expelled forcibly to make room for a hole like never before in your chest.

He’s sprawled out across the bed, still in a t-shirt and jeans that look eerily similar to what he had worn Sunday. 

“Eddie.”

You’re not sure if it’s your voice or Gareth’s that echoes through the room as you throttle forward, body in autopilot. 

What happened to him? Is he okay? Is he breathing? Is he alive?

The bed jumps from the weight of you as you crumble beside him, quick to press your ear to his chest. 

Is he alive?

The first thing you notice is the warmth of him beneath your palms. A good sign. 

Please be alive. 

The next thing you notice is the shaky breaths resonating within that chest you cling to. A heartbeat mingling somewhere beneath the press of your cheek as you slump in relief. A grunt as the weight of you pins him down. 

“What the-”

The words are croaked and slurred, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken out loud in days. You feel him start to shift beneath you, and the moment of serene relief that had overcome you from him just being alive evaporates as quickly as it had momentarily lived within your chest. 

Please stay alive.

You sit up straight, eyes finding his, “What did you take?” 

Blown out pupils. Whiskey breath. Powder residing at the tip of his nose, barely noticeable until you were as close as you currently were. 

“I-” Eddie blinks up at you slowly, mouth ever so slightly agape, looking confused as ever, “What do you mean?” 

I need to keep him alive.

“I mean,” you hiss out, sitting up fully and dragging him with you. You can’t focus on the fear creeping up at seeing him this way; it’s as though he might not be within his body, like he’s vacated the premises and you’ve been left with an uncoordinated vessel. “What the fuck did you take, Edward Munson?”

“Maybe we should give him a sec-” Gareth starts, but he’s cut off when you stand up entirely, Eddie in tow with your hands around his biceps. 

The boy makes no move to help you, clearly shocked, but Eddie is pliable. He lets you toss him around like a ragdoll, no protests to be heard beyond ragged breaths that you can’t quite be sure you aren’t just imagining joining your own. 

I need him to stay.

You’re not giving him a second. Depending on what he’s taken, that second could be the line between life and death. 

“Tell me,” you grunt with persistence, working your way under Eddie’s arm to support his weight against your body properly, “What you’ve taken,” Gareth takes a step forward but pauses at your sharp glare, “So I can make sure you don’t fucking die on me, Munson.” 

Your voice is terribly fragile as you start dragging him along towards the bathroom. His feet are moving, stumbling right along with you, but he remains mostly slumped against your side. Head lolling, eyes closed every time you sneak a glance through your struggle.

I need him to stay with me. Please.

Gareth is a foreign stranger, a mere on-looker to the catastrophe. 

That’s fine. It’s fine. It’s becoming abundantly clear that he doesn’t recall any of Eddie’s speeches, lectures, regarding the mixing of drugs that he gave once the group had discovered his side gig back in Hawkins. 

Which drugs did he warn against mixing? Which substances should I be worried about getting out of his system first? What symptoms should I be watching for? 

You rack your brain with each step towards the bathroom, only being able to remember one thing crystal clear. If nothing else, you recall Eddie telling you the easiest way to sober someone up a great deal, across most substances they might have taken. 

The shower. You need to get him in the shower. 

It’s not the cold water you need, although it’ll certainly help. Maybe it can shock him out of this trance just a bit, doing away with his droopy lids and any lingering substances on his body. Sweat, cocaine, alcohol – it’ll clean him up, surely, but that’s not your only goal. 

“Anytime Rick has seen someone try to mix the harder stuff with alcohol,” Eddie had once drawled to you in his van after a party he’d let you join him in attendance of, a milkshake in both of your hands as you’d reminisced on the night, “He makes ‘em chuck it all up. It’s gross. But efficient. Gets ‘em in a shower, or out in the yard, and just… makes it vomit town. Doesn’t do much but does somethin’, I guess.” 

All your movements are robotic, your mind hardly your own as you go through the motions. You don’t know how you’ve dragged him fully into the bathroom so quickly, no help from Gareth – but you have. You don’t know how you kept him upright, pressed tightly to your side as you turn on the water – but you have. You don’t know how you manage to situate him on the floor of the tiled shower, water soaking his knees and calves – but you do. 

Your body isn’t your own. Just like Eddie, you’ve become a witness to the events, no longer feeling as though you’re actually partaking in them as you take the final step. 

It’s not a pretty sight.

You don’t register the feeling of you shoving your fingers down Eddie’s throat, but soon enough, his head is hanging between his knees and Gareth is hovering behind you in sheer distress. 

“Did he just-” he starts to question, trying to peer past your kneeling figure to get a better look.

You don’t make him finish the sentence, doing the honors, “Throw up all that shit in his system? Yes.”

Look at me. Stay with me. Stay alive. 

Your chest feels two sizes too tight as you look at his heaving shoulders, a hand hesitating in mid-air as it reaches out to land on his back. That space between your palm and his shaking back. Two inches of space as your skin constricts a bit tighter. 

Stay with me. Please. 

Gareth is saying something, probably having a complete meltdown as you should be, but it’s static noise. Nothing else matters as you completely destroy that final bit of distance, and you let your palm fall against his back. Feather-light, so unsure, quivering even more than his figure as you go deathly still. 

You can feel every breath. Every little hiccuping gasp he takes as he regains composure. 

Look at me, please. 

Your pride, your fear, and your panic all collide as you give in. Your still hand is now in motion, palm rubbing his back feverishly with desperate comfort. You collapse entirely on the ground, letting yourself fall half into the shower to be close to him. You don’t care about the metal railing digging into your thighs and hip, you don’t care about your clothes growing damp as you enter the edges of the stream of water now washing away all the vomit. 

You only care about him. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say his name, surely being your voice this time as Gareth continues to hang back in shock, when umber brown eyes are finally looking up at you. 

The rivers of blood below the surface of your skin run far colder than the stream of water coming from his shower ever could. 

It’s simple syllables, the quietest of noises, and it has the power to absolutely crush you – all he does is sigh your name, and the world stops. 

You can’t speak. He slowly leans back up, back colliding harshly with the tiled wall of the shower, and you can’t speak. You hardly even move that pathetic attempt of a comforting palm out of the way in time.

He’s squinting as he groans, eyes darting between you and Gareth, “What the fuck happened?” 

You lean back out of the water a bit, unaffected by the feeling of wet jeans sticking to your skin, as Gareth scoffs out, “You went on a fucking bender. That’s what happened. Again.”

“It wasn’t a bender-”

“Bull-fucking-shit.” 

All his words are still slurring. His pupils are still just a tad bit too big for those whiskeyed eyes. 

“I was just having a bit of fun-”

“What about this is ever fun?” Gareth’s voice raises, louder than he had even been when fighting with you in the living room. “The part where we find you high out of your mind, half-dead in your apartment? Or the part where we’ll be cleaning up your mess?” 

I just wanted him safe. Alive. With me. 

You can’t join in the fight, because you weren’t looking for a fight. You had been so focused on simply finding Eddie, making sure he was okay, that you’d never considered what would happen once you did. 

“Oh, fun,” Eddie laughs coldly as his head throws back carelessly, and you flinch at the way he lets his skull bounce against the tile. Your fingers twitch, aching to have stopped it, to prevent any further damage, “We’re gonna have this argument again.” 

I just needed him alive. 

Your palms are sweaty against the tops of your thighs, pressed down tightly to prevent from reaching out to Eddie. There’s a ferocious need to clean him up further, to kick Gareth from the bathroom, to focus more on getting him sober than scolding him right now, but-

“Damn right, we are!” Gareth’s sneakers narrowly miss your lower back, and you’re looking over your shoulder with shock as he begins pacing, “Yeah, we fucking are having this fight again. How many times is it going to take? How many times am I going to have to explain to someone new how this is your normal now? How many times is someone going to stare at me like I’m the asshole here when I don’t do anything to prevent it, because I can’t?” 

“Gareth-” you whisper, trying to calm him down, moving to stand up when Eddie laughs again. 

“I don’t even fuckin’ know why she’s here,” you aren’t looking at him when he says it, and you’re almost glad for it. It’s in the way he says it – words easily mistaken for the ringing of a blade being sharpened, “What’s the point? Go ahead and do it now, Sugar.” 

Slowly, ever so slowly, you turn back towards Eddie, “Do what?” 

Dagger in hand, eyes so cold, he finally hits his mark, “Leave. That’s what you do, right? So just do it. Leave.”

Just how much blood can the human body spill? 

There must have been a time you learned that fact. 

Some time long ago, in a faraway classroom, the fact fell from the lips of a high school teacher in a droning tone. But you can’t remember it, because somewhere in that mystifying glimpse of the past, you’re sitting in a chair beside the man in front of you. You’re not bothered with facts of the human body or blood loss, because all you know is passing notes and giggles covered with coughs, the gentle tickle of knuckles brushing and knees bumping beneath desks. Your mind was on afterschool plans, which diner you’d meet up at and which of you would be picking the flavor of the milkshake you two would share. Who would claim they don’t want fries, and who would be sliding their plate across the table to let the before liar have easier reach. Who would be dozing off on the other's shoulder, as the other one finally brought up the responsible topic of homework. 

Trivial things. Things taken for granted. Things that fall out of reach when you finally extend yourself towards them, with the whisper of never being able to go back. The weight of Eddie’s cheek pressed to your bare shoulder over the roar of summertime cicadas outside a diner window, or the flat tone of a teacher informing their students of a fact they’ll seemingly never utilize again in their life.

You don’t remember, because back then, you’d never expected the man before you to make you bleed. 

You start to shake your head, but he prevents you from defending yourself, “You can’t deny it. You did it – it happened. We wanna air out all my dirty laundry? Cool, let’s start with yours.”

“Eddie,” Gareth has quieted down as you’d wanted, but you wish he hadn’t, “Give her a break, man.” 

Every atom in your body is hardening to try and prepare itself for his next blow. All expression drained from your face, the life fading from your eyes. 

“Why should I?” When he leans forward, you don’t even worry if he might get sick again all over you. He levels you with a wintery stare, and it’s the eyes of a stranger looking into yours now, “Why should I give her a break, or get my hopes up, when we both know how this ends? I’m saving us both some heartbreak, ain’t I, Sugar?” 

The way each word bleeds into one another should lessen the blow. The haze over his eyes should make everything feel a little more dull, a little less precisely sharpened. The sluggish movements and the constant sway of his body even when frozen in place should make it all less painful. 

But drunken words are honest thoughts, and you can’t help as the first crack of emotion bursts in the form of burning eyes. 

Stay with me. I need you to stay with me.

You don’t have it in you to defend yourself, to defend whatever this is that you two have pulled out of the rubble. 

All you can do is meet his stare, so vacant and so chilling, as you say, “I’m not leaving.” 

And then, ironically, you do exactly that. You leave. 

Shoulder bouncing against Gareth’s, you move as quickly as you possibly can out of the suffocating bathroom, the tables turning entirely. The roles have switched, and now you’re the one gasping for air. 

“Hey, hold on,” Gareth tries to reach out for you, but you’re quicker than him in pulling yourself away from the two of them entirely. 

“Clean him up,” you instruct flatly, unwilling to look at Eddie. You’ve seen enough, bled enough, for one day. 

Neither man replies to you verbally, and all you hear as you exit the room is the pattern of water breaking against the tile. It almost sounds like your heart, if Eddie Munson hadn’t already done the honor of tearing it apart in his current state.

—

You stay true to your word.

You don’t leave.

Not the apartment, at least.

For the next hour, you put yourself to work, digging under Eddie’s kitchen sink and finding a large enough trash bag for the current task you busy yourself with. You never let a single tear fall as you glide around the living room, the kitchen, the hallway. 

You don’t go near the bedroom. Near the bathroom. Near Eddie. 

Gareth only shows his face once the entire duration, stepping outside of the room briefly but never glancing your way. You can only assume it’s to let Eddie get dressed, his clothes probably needing to be washed after the entire ordeal. 

If he flinches as he hears you toss all the trash within reach of your hurricane in the bag particularly violently, you don’t say a word. 

By the time there’s any sign of life on Eddie’s part, you’ve already cleaned up most of the apartment. Ashtrays emptied, all glasses not broken in the sink, a semi-neat pile of any pages you could decipher his handwriting upon. You were cruel, if Eddie’s presumption of knowing how this ends was anything to go off of, but you weren’t so cruel as to toss away anything he might have written for his career. 

This time, you don’t snoop. You know better than to read a single line on the pages. If Eddie has something he wants to say to you now, he’ll have to say it to your face. 

There’s a creak from down the hall as you’re finally collapsing onto the couch, a photo frame in hand as the overflowing trash bag is discarded to the floor temporarily, fingers already working nimbly at getting the back of the frame off before whoever it may be enters the room. 

Just as the creased photograph is in your grasp, a throat clears from behind you. 

“I…” he sounds smaller than he had in the bathroom, voice a bit clearer, “Uh, thank you. For…. for earlier.” 

Slow, steady steps. No longer blundering, or needing the support of another body to guide him. 

“I’m-”

If you were to turn around, you know you’d see the Eddie Munson you swear you know. The one who had sat beside you in science class, the one you would kiss under the bleachers every Friday night. You’d see the boy you’d followed across states, followed all the way to New York, sprinting to catch up with him as he’d trailed ferociously after his dream. Clear eyes, somber face, not a single blade in hand. 

But you can’t keep chasing after that boy. You think before Eddie ever turned his daggers towards you, he had taken them to that boy first, and he was buried long before you could even think to say goodbye. 

“Don’t apologize,” you force out, letting the words leave you as easily as the breath you were holding. The air in your lungs, however, stays put. “You were fucked up. It’s fine.”

Over the edge of the photograph you hold, you see his bare feet. New tattoos on unfamiliar ankles, the hems of pants he’d bought without you at his side. 

“It’s not fine, and I shouldn’t have said that,” Each word drips with sincerity. Then again, his accusation in the shower had as well, as you recall it now, “Will you- Please look at me.” 

Please look at me.

Please look at me.

Please stay with me. 

You can’t say that you break. Because, truthfully, you hadn’t been whole to begin with. Some sort of chasm had torn you apart the moment you walked into this apartment - no, the moment you had walked into that damned meeting room and seen his face for the first time in years. 

Two years. Twenty five months. One hundred weeks. 

Your brain has no capacity to break down the hours, minutes, seconds. All the time spent without him, unknowing that the man you had loved was rotting away in the ground six feet under, as the ghost of him haunted stages across the world. 

“I need to finish cleaning,” you say suddenly, jumping up off the couch, keeping your vision downwards. 

What if you look at him, and you decide to leave?

What if you look into his eyes and see the picture once painted by dial tones and automated voices announcing an electronic mailbox was full? 

What if you just weren’t as strong as you were determined to be?

“I have all the cups in the kitchen sink,” the words slip over a frantic tongue, one hand twisting at the plastic material of the bag until your nails are piercing right through the thin veil to prod painfully at your palm as the other won’t let go of that damned photograph, “I emptied all the ashtrays, and-”

Why should I give her a break, or get my hopes up, when we both know how this ends?

When we both know how this ends? 

How does it end? You want to scream at him, ask him the question that chokes you up now. Is this how it ends, with awkward encounters and coming to the rescue recklessly? Does it end with hurtful words said out of spite over the stench of intoxication, or does it end more quietly, over the whispers of apologies and thanks that should never have been necessary to begin with? 

Does it ever really end? Because surely, it didn’t end for you two years ago. Twenty five months ago. One hundred weeks ago. 

Why does this love of yours insist upon being a weapon, just as Eddie had written in his song? 

“Sugar, please,” he tries to stand in your way, force you to look up, but you won’t, “Please, stop cleaning, and-”

“I can’t.”

“You can, just sit down, let’s talk about-”

“I can’t.” 

“Gareth can get the rest of it all, it’s fine-”

“I can’t!”

You both stop all movements, Eddie’s shuffling and your attempts to escape him, as the yell falls off your lips. Finally, you look up at him, shocked to find red-rimmed eyes.

They weren’t that pink when you’d found him. Even when intoxicated. 

The tears gathered proves it. 

“I almost lost you, Eddie!” It feels good to scream. Feels good to watch him crumple right along with you as your voice bounces around the hollow room. “You almost left me this time, okay? And not- not in the- you wouldn’t just be somewhere out there!” At some point, your hands begin to curl into shaking fists, and you let them fall against Eddie’s chest in a broken pattern. Thump, thump, thump, “You’d just be fucking gone! There would be no contracts to fix it! I can’t make a deal with the fucking Devil or God to bring you back!” His fingers wrap around your wrists, fists still in motion. Not stopping you, simply holding onto you, “Gone!” Another smack to his chest, “No second chances!” Tears had started to fall, finally, but you pay your blurry no vision any mind as sobs tear out of your throat along with every weak toss of your fists, “De-”

You can’t finish the word. It’s coiled up at the back of your throat, a stopper to all the sobs you’ve started choking out. 

A chest two sizes too small, a heart with a hole in the center of it. 

Maybe you had been born with the hole in the shape of the man that catches you when you collapse against him. It was always there, nothing to be done about it, except to let him fill it. Slot himself right into your life, place himself over it just like a bandage, wrap his arms around you as small shushes fall from his lips. 

It’s selfish – terribly, terribly selfish – that he’s comforting you now. 

But he does. He lets you cry out, slumped against him without complaint. As though simply holding you might fix this. As if this entire day may be capable of being erased by this very moment. 

At some point, you have no sobs left in you. Your entire body has been pressed into Eddie’s chest, and he’s clinging to you as though his life might rely on it as he buries his cheek against the crown of your head, but not a cry is left to give. 

“I’m not leaving,” he repeats your words from earlier in the softest of tones. 

They hold an entirely different weight on his tongue. 

But the entire Universe holds its breath as it’s set into stone – neither of you are leaving. You’re both here, headstrong with feet cemented where you stand, and you are not leaving this time. 

Your fist still homes the photograph, albeit adding new wrinkles to the picture as it curls within your hold. 

Carefully, you start to pull back from Eddie, and he lets you. Arms dropping away as you take one step backward, sneakers crunching on the broken glass scattered about the rug below. 

There, in your palm, there’s a lifetime you think you may always miss. A time that you’ll always remember like a sore ache in your back molars. 

You, and Eddie, and Gareth. Even Dustin Henderson is in the photo. 

“What’s that?” Eddie asks as his eyebrows wrinkle and he attempts to get a closer look at the treasure you stare blankly at now. 

“A photo,” you blandly explain, another step back before you can collapse onto the couch once more. Eddie joins you this time, “From that first big show at the Hideout.”

There’s more words turning stale on the tongue, but you don’t need to reminisce anymore. You get it now. Sort of. 

It hurts, it might hurt for a while, but it’s over with. It’s never going to be fair to continue to compare the two of you to what once was. You can’t go back, you can’t change a past already written. Two graves need to be laid to rest now, after one hundred long weeks, and it’s time to leave the cemetery. 

That chapter was closed. The book wasn’t. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” Eddie whispers. You swear you can hear noises from down the hall, suddenly remember that Gareth was still here, “I… I didn’t say it the way I should have, but I meant it. If you want out, I’ll let you go.” 

Maybe the Universe had gotten the memo, but Eddie hadn’t. 

You look at him with wild eyes, “What? I don’t-”

“I know, I know. The contracts and stuff. But I could get them nullified. If it’s what you want, I’ll force them to let you out,” you’re stunned into silence as he smiles sadly at you, “You didn’t sign up for this shit, Sugar. I can scrap the album, too, if you want. The guys can help me write new stuff, stuff not about us, and we can just-” 

You toss that photo right onto the ground, let it flutter down to settle beside the trash can. Like flowers on a grave. 

“Do you want to know what my first thought was when I came in here?” you interrupt him, staring up at the front door as you fight back tears. He doesn’t respond, so you continue on, “Please be alive. My first thought was for you to just be alive, be okay.”

That’s what it had been. No care for nostalgia or all that once was. Simply needing him to be breathing inside this apartment.

The callous laugh that escapes him isn’t quite as cold as the ones he’d let out in the bathroom, but there’s still no trace of humor, “Can I be honest? I’m definitely alive, and some of that credit belongs to you, but… Jury’s still out about being okay.”

You turn your body towards him, blinking your sore eyes slowly, “Then talk to me about it.” 

His shock proves that this has clearly become a foreign concept. 

“What?” he tries to chuckle, tries to force a little laughter into the tone rather than sheer nerves, but it’s useless when it comes to you. He used to laugh like that any time that he lied to Wayne – it was always his giveaway. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but like I said, you didn’t sign up for any-”

“I did,” you stress, almost reaching out to grab each side of his head, shake some sense into him if possible. Just make him understand. “When I signed Matt’s contract, I signed up for it. When I agreed to get just a cup of coffee with you, I signed up for it,” you pause, taking a deep breath, eyes shutting for only a moment to compose yourself. It’s hardly a second, a long blink if anything, just so you can keep him in your sights, “You keep acting like you’ve forced me into this, but I’ve always been able to walk away if I really wanted to. Every step of the way. I could have refused to take Corroded Coffin on as a client, I could have told you to go to Hell and meant it. I could have laughed in Matt’s face when he suggested the contract. But I didn’t. Get it through your dense skull, please, Munson – I’m here, I’m staying, and I signed up for it.”

He’s quiet, dead silent as he stares at you with red eyes. You can see the bags shadowing beneath, all the damage done over four days that you can’t clean up with a trash bag and enough anxiety to fuel you for days. Things that take longer to heal, things that eat away at someone if they don’t talk about it.

You remember all that anger you’d felt when you’d realized this wasn’t the first time that Eddie had done this, that this was his new normal. 

How it had stunned you that none of them had ever just offered to talk to him. 

‘You knew him better than that.’

Gareth had been right. You do know Eddie better than that. 

“I can’t force you to talk about it all,” your voice drops, something for just the two of you, “But I can ask you to stop bottling it up. I can ask you to stop self-destructing. Because, trust me, I’ve been there – and look where it left us.” 

He tilts his head as he opens his mouth, but you’ll never hear his argument as Gareth finally enters the room. 

“I, uh, cleaned up the room and bathroom,” he holds up a smaller trash bag, free hand rubbing the nape of his neck, “I just tossed his- your old clothes into the laundry basket, but…. Yeah. It’s clean.”

A small correction, a shifting of the eyes to acknowledge not just you, but Eddie. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says, terribly earnestly, twisting his body to settle his arm along the back of the couch. You’re still thinking about that tilt of his head, and whatever he had to rebuttal you with, “I… I appreciate it.” 

The words sound uncomfortable on Eddie’s tongue, as though he hasn’t said them in a while. 

“I also called Matt and let him know you’re alive,” Gareth breezes right past the gratitude, but it moves as though a weight in the air has finally been lifted as he circles around the couch to drop his bag of trash beside yours, “He said to take a few days to recover, but… Keep in touch. Not specifically with him, if you don’t want to, just- Anyone.” 

Gareth’s eyes catch yours as he says it, and you know exactly what he means. 

Eddie won’t, can’t, speak to them – but maybe he can find a way to talk to you. 

“Thanks, Gar,” you can’t fight the slightest twitchings of smiles on the corners of your mouth as you say it, and Gareth is quick to roll his eyes. It almost feels normal. It’s almost enough to forget what’s happened. 

“If you’re going to start calling me that, I might just have to tell the guys that the pizza date is cancelled,” Eddie’s head snaps from Gareth to you, not angry but simply confused, “They still haven’t stopped talking about that, by the way. Better be good on your word, Hellfire.” 

All you can do is nod, and try to not sink too deeply into the warmth sparking up in your chest at the nickname. 

“Hellfire?” Eddie, for the first time since you’ve found him, is laughing genuinely. It’s a tired sound, a little breathless, but it’s actual laughter. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.” 

“Haven’t had her around in a while,” Gareth is quick as he nods in your direction before finally moving towards the front door, “I’m heading out now, but… Call me if you need me. Or if you start craving pizza. Or… Don’t. I don’t know, I don’t control you two.” 

You almost ask him to stay, but you’re starting to suspect Gareth had heard more of your private conversation with Eddie than you’d like, and that it might be better for him to leave before you two can continue talking.

Before you ask Eddie about the tilt of his head, the argument on his tongue. 

“See you around, Gareth,” you hum, waving as you sink back further into the couch. Already preparing to settle in for a long night, a long talk. 

“See ya,” he makes the effort to not just nod in response to you, but Eddie as well. Just as his hand is on the door, though, he suddenly turns back around, “Oh, and before I forget - catch.”

Your hands move faster than your mind, thankfully, as a shining object flies through the air from Gareth’s palm and into your chest, “What the f-”

“Matt can make a new copy if he really wants one. I think you’ll make better use of it than us for now.” 

You look down at the silver key that Gareth had produced right as you had been on the verge of getting inside the apartment, of getting to Eddie. 

Eddie sees it too, and his brows furrow quickly, “When the fuck did Matt get a key to my place?” 

“Who cares?” Gareth shrugs, “Just be glad he did, or else you’d probably be replacing your front door from her kicking it in.”

It’s your turn to let out a sincere scoff, pocketing the key regardless. He’s right – your ankle almost screams out it’s thanks as you think about whether you would have tried (you would have) and if you would have been successful (you wouldn’t have been).  

With that, Gareth leaves. 

The front door doesn’t slam shut as you and Eddie are left properly alone. A new key to add to your own chain heavy in your pocket, and a million questions weighing down your mind. 

You and Eddie turn back to one another in sync. Something simmers in the air – something hopeful, something promising. The rosy glow of sunset outside the skyline windows illuminates the room just so. 

“Now that we’re alone, I’m going to ask you one more time, and I want you to be honest,” you start strong, sure, ready. Eddie nods along with each word, never shying away from your gaze, “Are you okay?” 

Instead of answering immediately, Eddie suddenly shuffles around his position on the couch. You’re taken back, freezing up, but don’t dare protest once you realize what he’s doing. 

His head falls into your lap with minimal hesitancy, and suddenly, big brown eyes are staring up at you. 

“Honestly, Sugar? No. I feel like shit,” you can’t fathom how he manages to do it, delivering it with a boyish grin that doesn’t feel condescending, only slightly teasing. It should be inappropriate, but if this is how he needs to be in order to open up, then it works. “Got any preference on where I start?” 

Your fingers find home in his scalp on instinct, “Wherever you want, Rockstar.” 

You can bury the old versions of yourself all you want – some habits will never die. Some things will never change. 

“Great,” he sighs, letting his eyes flutter shut for just a moment. You both bask in all the serenity that traces the edges of his face as the dipping sunrise continues to paint his cheeks gentle shades of pink and orange. “Then let’s start with promising I’ve learned my lesson, and I’m never mixing cocaine and whiskey again. Totally cancels out for me. A real buzzkill.” 

“Not funny.”

“I know,” his eyes shoot open, and half his mouth raises at a sorry attempt for a grin. Still tired, still truly looking like shit, but there’s promise behind those twisting vines of amber and chestnut looking up at you, “But I mean it… Gotta start somewhere, Sugar.”

He’s right – it’s a start. And you hope he means it. Because, whether it be fortunately or unfortunately, you’re not leaving. 

☆ prev chapter | masterlist | next chapter ☆

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmates AU in which when your soulmate is in a situation that can result in their death you get to see through their eyes. Like, I don't know how to explain this- it kind of flashes between what you see and what your soulmate sees. You know those edits where there's a scene going on and there's another one faded in the background happening at the same time? Similar to that. The idea is that you get to see what your soulmate sees too, on top of what you're seeing.

Now, this AU but JeanMarco. With Marco asking the others where's Jean, just for him to start seeing a corpse right in front of his eyes not even a second after asking. Seeing through Jean's eyes as he's trying to get hold of that gear and stuff. And once Jean's safe, once it clicks that you know his best friend is his soulmate Marco can't wait for them to graduate so he can you know tell him that.

Then, you know. That happens. And Jean is so fucking confused because he keeps seeing Annie crying, looking down on him. Only when Annie starts getting off the gear, when his soulmate starts moving around trying to get away he starts panicking, starts moving around faster than before. And maybe he's too late. Or maybe he shows up in time and kills the titan. I don't know. That's not where I'm trying to get, but to the second option AKA Marco pulling an UNO reverse on Annie because he's a smart sneaky bastard like that and being like 'Hey you can't kill me, my soulmate will know it was you' which makes her stop trying to take off his gear. Reiner keeps telling her to do it, Bertholdt keeps yelling about that titan coming closer, but Annie... she has seen things, at some point. Flashes of moments that weren't hers, happening right in Trost- right in that moment. And she didn't give them too much thought until that moment, until it got confirmed that it has nothing to do with her titan powers.

'What do you mean by that?' she asks, because she needs to know more. Because she wants to know more. And Marco starts explaining how it works. Tells them that he has found his soulmate, that they will put all the blame on them for his death. Reiner doesn't believe him, keeps insisting that he's playing them around - he, and anyone born and raised on Marley, has never heard of something like that before, it doesn't exist - but Annie tells him to shut up and to let Marco go. Cue to the plot of any fic in which Marco doesn't straight up die after finding up their secret.

Anyway I don't know man, just,,, We need more soulmate aus for JeanMarco. That's an order.

[lemonywings]

heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey

hey so sorry about saying i was gonna try to post art atleast once a week and then not doing that (to the 2 people that follow me sorry lmao) (i dont actually know how many followers i have i cant find that in settings im going off of memory here)

in my defense though, it felt wrong of me to post art about my interests during the strike for palestine where people were putting in the effort to uplift palestinian voices and call for aid in gaza. (sorry if my wording isnt very good right now, ive had a long week and im very tired right now)

originally i wasnt going to post about it because im a very small account and figured that speaking up about it wouldnt do anything. and while that might be true, it still feels wrong to not atleast TRY to help. so far ive donated to CareForGaza during the particles4palestine event held on twitter twice now, and while i cant direct to you that event now as its ended i can still direct you to a thread made by the person who ran the particles for palestine event! it has tons of informational links about the situation, as well as charity links :D.

https://x.com/bioloveds/status/1750930362132537494?s=20

(please let me know if this link doesnt work or stops working. if it does ill sort something out or make another post with as much as i can possibly do)

alternitavely i have other options that i have seen recently that you might want to look at aswell! the profits still go towards gaza/palestine aid, they just also come with some fun things you might like :D

sorry for the long post, i was originally going to make it longer but i worry if i do nobody will pay attention to it. that all being said tho if theres anything you think i have missed i encourage you to try and seek out as much information on this topic as possible. im doing my best to help but i also have alot going on right now and i dont really wanna be responsible for others while im still learning myself. anyways though, good night and free palestine :D

[hayatoseyepatch]

Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓ Ｎｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ － Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

Ｚａｙｎｅ － Ｄｏｇｇｙ Ｓｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

 He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ － Ｍａｔｉｎｇ Ｐｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅ��� － Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ － Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Network tags: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn

[chiistarri]

i hate change id rather die

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[n0vazsq]

Till the day that I die | OP81 x Reader

pairing . . . oscar piastri x dyslexic!youtuber!reader

summary . . . Being dyslexic on social media may be hard, but your knight in shining armour is always there to defend you

request . . . yes!! based on this request

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . blanca soler MY WIFE and lily zneimer for couple posts!

alexavia yaps . . . havent written a smau in a while im afraid ive forgotten how </3 ANYHOW im saur happy ydek bc i dont have to edit this?? i dont have to read it 75 times for mistakes?? MY DYSLEXIC ASS CAN BE FREE!!!!! ps this is LITTERED with refrences! also ignore how i kind off didnt follow the request I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO DO IT. dechipher the captions yallselves im too lazy to do it

y/n l/n posted a new video !

comments !

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf, lando_norris and 2.2M others

yourusername grmw vlog is out!!! had so fun filsming it and we had an ella feaure included!!! (ella is y/n's dog!)

click to view all comments

y/nfan5 WOOHOO!!!!!

oscarpiastri Can't wait to have you in my arms

yourusername aww osc youre too sweet <3

oscarpiastri Only for you <3

f1_girly are those typos in the caption or am i tweaking

y/nswifeyy. They are! Y/n is dyslexic so every once in a while we get a typo or two

username1 im looking DISRESPECTFULLY

username2 how did she misspell two very easy words? girl go back to school

oscarpiastri She's dyslexic, you're not, so go fuck yourself

username3 OSCAR???

oscarloverr. I DIDNT KNOW OSCAR HAD IT IN HIM

y/nsno1fan guys IGNORE OSCAR AND LOOK AT Y/N

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, lando_norris, nicole.piastri and 2.9M others

oscarpiastri With the love of my life once again tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

username4 I CAN DO ANYTHING PLS JUST LET ME HIT

charlesleclerc Don't bully my daughter-in-law

yourusername CHARLS ILYSM

yourusername BEST FATHER IN LAW I'VE EVR HAD

charlesleclerc I'm the only one you have?

yourusername doesn't mayyer

oscarpiastri Thank you Charles

lando_norris photo credits?

yourusername up mya ss

lando_norris wow y/n i thouht we were frinds

yourusername i ony like you because we're both dyslexic don't flatter yourslef mr norris

hater2 How do you mess up the word 'yourself' so bad?

yourusername magic

oscarpiastri Do you not have a life? Or is it hating on my girlfriend?

yourusername ate

oscarpiastri Thank you 😊

username5 HELP OSCAR IS WHIPPED FOR Y/N

username6 who ISNT

username5 good point

plmvia Y/n i love you pls don't die

f1_3112 y/n ate, left no crumbs, wiped the plate clean and oscar is meh ig

yourusername i love you

oscarpiastri me more

yourusername till the day that i die i love you more

oscarpiastri MY HEART

y/n l/n posted a new video !

comments !

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lando_norris, nicole.piastri and 3.7M others

yourusername small phtotdup since my boyafriend is away at war ad is begging for pcitures </3 also a new vlog is out!

click to view all comments

username7 OH. MY. GOD. how hard is it for you to spell properly?

oscarpiastri As hard as it is for you to get a life and stop hating

yourusername gnawing at the bars of my enclisure that was hit

oscarpiastri Hit?

lando_norris she meant hot, oscar. hot

yourusername H-O-T-T-O-G-O you cna tae me hot to go!!!!!!!!!

oscarpiastri Stunning as always

oscarpiastri Zak better strap me down to the car because I am so close to booking a flight back home

oscarpiastri I've watched all your vlogs thrice

username8 my wife guys back off

oscarpiastri Uhm no?

username8 OMG OSCAR REPLIED SOS

oscarpiastri Text me please

yourusername will do

lando_norris this would've been a normal post if oscar wasn't a sappy muppet

yourusername oi leave my boyfriend alone

oscarpiastri When she defends you from haters <3

lando_norris you bring out a side in him that no one wants to see

yourusername sorry?

lando_norris you better be

username9 MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER

y/nplsmarryme gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous omg

verchstappan we're so back

oscah.pastry SHES MY IDOL

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lando_norris, yourbsf and 3.2M others

yourusername finally reunited with my beuatufil biyfriend and the love of my life <33 love you till the die that iday tagged: oscarpiastri

click to view all comments

oscarpiastri I swear to god if someone comments about the typos in the caption I will personally run you over with my F1 car

yourusername so romantic 😍

oscarpiastri All for you ❤

lando_norris till the die that i day?

yourusername FUCK

oscarpiastri It's alright I got the meaning

yourusername i hare this dysexia

yourusername LANDO I SWEAR TO GOD

lando_norris I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING

yourusername you were about to

lando_norris sigh

superyuki22 i need this in my life

username10 mother y/n feed us some ynoscar crumbs

username11 if i was oscar id have a meltdown everyday out of stress of losing this goddess

username12 this is the best love story in the history of love stories

username13 im calling it theyre romeo and juliet

ynshoee_ this is so goals what

lawsons.lawyer parasocial relationship

charlesleclerc You two are very cute

yourusername so are you and alex!!

charlesleclerc You have my permission to propose

yourusername who said i alrwady didn?

charlesleclerc Okay.....

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, nicole.piastri, charlesleclerc and 3M others

oscarpiastri Happy anniversary, my love. From sneaking glances in the school hallways to cheering me on from the paddock, you’ve been my constant through it all. No matter how fast life moves, you’ll always be my greatest win. I love you forever, always. tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

redbullb1tch max can keep his championships this is the REAL win

ynfann18 PREACH.

nicole.piastri The greatest prize Osc has ever won! Here's to many more!!

yourusername thank you mama piastri 🥹 🫶

oscarpiastri Thank you mum <3

lando_norris nothing more iconic than this relationship

yourusername not even your win?

lando_norris let's not get ahead of ourselves

oscarpiastri You said it yourself?

lando_norris well don't take it so seriously

h4m1lt0ns44 if racing is all i need to pull someone like y/n i'd be a world champion

yourbsf from delievering your notes to each other in high school to seeing you celebrate half a decade of this relationship, you two have the best relationship ever 🫶

yourusername thank you sm ml <33 hope to see you in the paddock with your f1 bf!

oscarpiastri Thank you, bsf/name!! I'll try my best to matchmake you with a driver so N/n can see you in the paddock more often

yourusername OSC

oscarpiastri Anything to make you happy ❤

lando_norris hey yourbsf

oscarpiastri Oh?

username14 THE NO.1 COUPLE ON THIS EARTH FRRRR

username15 i'm so sick i want this RIGHT NOW

username16 my fav thing about them is oscar defending y/n's dyslexia

username17 If your man isn't like Oscar then dump him

yourusername you always make me feel like the most special girl in the world, even when your life is driving 300 kilometres per hour 🥹 im so proud of you, not just for what you’ve acheived on the track but for who you are off it too 🫶 ill love you till the day that I die, my favorit boy forever 🥰

oscarpiastri You’ll always be my greatest achievement, on or off the track. I love you more than words, forever and always. ❤️

yourusername till the day that i die

fin.

 taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[maxtermind]

Can I request some more angst 🫠🫠 I’m a sucker for your sad fics

tell me, why'd you have to hit-and-run me?

★ : summary :: finding out your boyfriend was dared to date you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: ANGST; no hea ★ : word count :: 4k+ ★ : a/n :: how are we feeling with the daily posts ending tom and shifting to alternate day posting🤭 babe you asked for angst and i delivered, lmk how you like it <3 bet y'all thought you needed tissues for something else😏

Max Verstappen

“Mate, you still haven’t told her?” you heard Lando whisper, making your eyebrows shoot up. What were they talking about? As you finally decided to approach your boyfriend and his friend, you heard Max whisper.

It was low, so low that you almost didn’t catch it, but the way your hand froze on the knob and the utter stillness of your heartbeat indicated that you heard him loud and clear when he slowly said, “I don’t know how to.”

That. That was the reason you froze. You were processing what you heard. Your heart pulled from its rightful place—no, it was ripped out.

God, you thought, anything but that. Anything but cheating because how could you even confront him if he confessed to cheating on you right there on the spot in front of one of his friends?

“It has been going on for too long, Max.” Lando took a deep breath. “You should tell her you love her; she’ll understand.”

Ah. Okay, he loves you; this was okay. But then why was your heart still beating so loudly that you could hear it in your ears?

“How do you think I should go about it?” Max asked, and that was when you finally had enough. You turned the knob, but Lando was already speaking, and his words had you freeze again.

The boys' heads snapped up, eyes wide when they saw you walk in. You felt your eyes burn as Lando’s last words finally processed.

“You should’ve thought about it before you decided to make a stupid bet with those dumb men.”

“Bet?” you wondered aloud as you saw Max stumble over to you. What bet?

“No bet!” you heard your panicked boyfriend almost scream. You were so confused you didn’t even know what you were saying out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lando said as he stood from the couch, glaring at Max. “Y/N deserves to know.” You kept your eyes on Max, trying to gauge an explanation from his clearly messed-up state.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” you finally looked at your boyfriend’s best friend. “I clearly shouldn’t have trusted Max to—”

“I think you should leave,” Max groaned out as if it pained him to hear Lando talk, almost hissing out the last word. They started bickering back and forth, and through your hazy mind, you could only make out a few words.

But they were enough. You took a deep breath as you stepped away from Max towards the door. He was too busy focusing on Lando anyway.

“Y.. you’re saying I was a bet?” Your voice cut through the chaos, and it was Max’s turn to go dead silent and freeze on the spot.

“You asked me ou—” Oh god, you didn’t want to cry, “—because of a dare?”

Max’s eyes were wide with horror, his face pale as he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out in desperation. “No, Y/N, it’s not like that, please, let me explain.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. “Explain what, Max?” Your voice cracked on the last word, the pain too raw to hold back when you saw Max was also crying. “How a…all i have be— this relationship has been is a fucking lie?” The moment you said it out loud, you heard Lando take in a sharp breath. Max looked disheveled, he could just tell that this was the only time he could repair this. You looked a minute away from walking out and the thought of that had him talking even through his closed up throat.

His voice broke, choked with emotion. “No, Y/N, I swear, it wasn’t like that. It started as a stupid dare, yes, but then... then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard, it—” His words stumbled over each other, barely coherent through his tears. “I called the whole thing off.”

You cut him off, your voice trembling and thick with hurt. “You should have told me right then. As soon as you called it off, you sho—” Your body shook, barely able to stand under the weight of your heartbreak. “How could you do this to m.. me?”

Max rushed forward to hold your hands, breathing heavily to get himself under control so he could talk as he sobbed. “I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I didn’t want to lose you. You mean everything to me.”

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling your heart shatter all over again. It was one thing to know someone’s apology was sincere and another to know that they had faked being sincere from the very beginning. So how could you even tell the difference now? Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “How can I trust you now? How can I believe anything you say?” You were almost gasping for breath, each word an effort as you tried to hold back the sobs wracking your body.

Lando’s voice was soft but firm from behind you, though his own eyes were hard. “He’s telling the truth, Y/N. He was an idiot, but he’s been head over heels for you for a long time.”

Max’s tear-streaked face looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Anything. Just... don’t leave me.” His voice broke, the last word coming out as a wail of despair.

You turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with raw agony. “I can’t be here.” You could barely see through your tears, your entire body trembling.

Max’s anguished sobs followed you as you walked away, your heart feeling like it was being torn from your chest with every step. The pain was unbearable, and you stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of your sorrow but Lando caught you as he held you by your shoulders.

You needed to be alone, to process everything, and to decide if love could truly overcome betrayal. But right now, it felt like your world was ending.

Lewis Hamilton

“Y/N, baby please—”

Lewis’s voice pleaded as you shut the door behind, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears blurred your vision as you staggered away from your apartment, the weight of betrayal crushing your chest.

To think that you used to gush about him, about this, the vague lie you had to others. Not even a few steps away from your apartment, you were bent over, retching into a nearby dustbin.

How could luck be so cruel? How could you have been so blind?

You wandered the streets, tears falling down your cheeks as your brain replayed the moments when Lewis first approached you at a random club party, despite your friends warning you that someone like him must have nefarious reasons. But you were smitten.

“I’m sorry, but I don't know what you’re doing here,” you had said to him, feeling your heart beat faster when a smirk adorned his face in return. He looked majestic under the club lights. “Where else would I be?” he muttered, mesmerized as he looked at you, “If not with the most beautiful girl in this club?”

He made you feel special, validated in a way you had never felt before. Now, the memory turned sour in your mind, leaving you feeling sick and disgusted. You dry heaved again.

At least he had the decency to confess. Standing here in the cold, his words from when he sat you down with him echoed in your ears— his pleading, his apologies, his desperate attempts to explain. But what did it matter now?

“How could you?” you whispered, thump! thump! thump! your heart pumped as you heard it in your ears, your voice barely audible through the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Was I just a game to you?” That was the first thing you said after his almost ten-minute rant.

You had stopped listening though, right when he had told you what exactly made him approach you. Your first meeting was so magical, so precious to you, but it was all ruined now.

His friend had dared him because Lewis’ morale was down. He was having the worst day of his life after losing an almost sure race win, and his friends knew the only way to cheer him up was through a challenge.

Lewis reached out when he saw that you were lost in your thoughts, his voice desperate and shaky. “No, Y/N, please listen to me—”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Don’t. Just don’t…”

“Please,” he pleaded, looking nothing like the man you loved, his voice cracking with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I messed up, but I love you more than anything.”

You felt your heart breaking all over again because you genuinely couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of you— the man who had played you, was probably still playing you. “You should have thought about that before…”

Unable to bear another moment, you left, leaving his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You were nothing more than a pawn in his game of masculine pride and insecurity. The realization hit you like a freight train, leaving you gasping for air as you collapsed against a nearby wall, sobs wracking your body.

How could someone who once made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so broken?

Carlos Sainz

The evening was warm, and the restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation. You sat with your boyfriend, Carlos, his friends, and a few of your own. It was a casual dinner, the kind you rarely held since Carlos was so busy.

“I can't believe we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t dared Carlos to ask you out,” Javier chuckled as he saw you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend.

Laughter erupted around the table but quickly died down when they realized the utter horror on your face. An uncomfortable silence settled in, and you noticed the tension.

Your wide eyes moved from one face to another, finally landing on Carlos, whose expression had turned serious. He glared at Javier, and you sensed something was wrong. You felt uncomfortable, and the need to flee clutched you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice small yet cutting through the awkwardness as you held Carlos’ hand under the table. He squeezed it in return.

“Uh, nothing,” Javier stammered, realizing his mistake. His discomfort was evident, triggering your fight-or-flight response.

You turned to Carlos. “What’s going on?” Your voice held a very tiny hope, hoping this was all a prank that would be over soon.

He sighed as he squeezed your hand again, his frustration evident. “We should talk about this at home.”

You pulled your hand away from his, your confusion and hurt growing. The others at the table exchanged looks of pity, further igniting your anger.

“No, we’re talking about it here. What’s going on?” you demanded as a shaky breath left your lips.

Carlos looked around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” He stopped himself again.

“Tell me what?” Your voice grew louder, drawing the attention of nearby diners.

Before he could respond, one of your friends, Beatrice, chimed in, “Just tell her, for God’s sake!” You looked at her in solitude, glad that you had some kind of support here.

“I dared Carlos to ask you out as a joke!” Javier blurted out just as you were managing to form a small smile to pass to your friend.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “What?” The chair creaked under you as you pushed it away from the table, and your boyfriend held your hand again.

“Please, it wasn’t like that,” Carlos tried to calm you down, but he was panicking himself. He was still whispering that you could not feel anything else in the world anymore. That was enough evidence.

You stood up, knocking your chair over as you once again snatched your hand away from his. “Wasn’t like what? You made me believe this was fucking real!”

Other diners began to whisper and pull out their phones, recording the scene as he stood up as well. With a desperate look, Carlos reached out to you, but you stepped back.

“This whole time, I was just a fucking… dare to you?” you shouted.

People around the restaurant started filming, their phones pointed at the escalating scene. Carlos's anger boiled over. He grabbed a nearby phone and smashed it against the table. The room fell silent, shocked gasps filling the air.

“Carlos, stop!” One of his friends tried to pull him back.

“You all think this is funny?” Carlos yelled at the onlookers, distracted now, and you knew what you were going to do as he turned around to yell again. “Get your own fucking life!”

You stood up, tears streaming down your face. “I’m done with this,” you said, your voice breaking. You were already walking away when you felt your friend follow you.

As you left the restaurant, you could hear the whispers and see the flashes of cameras. You knew this would go viral, but at that moment, you didn’t care. Your heart ached with betrayal and anger.

Carlos realized a bit too late that you were gone. Frustrated, he ran out to catch up with you and tried to call you again and again.He didn't know at the time that he would never catch a hold of you after this.

Charles Leclerc

You were scrolling through social media when a notification from an unknown sender caught your attention. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t, curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on the thumbnail showing your boyfriend at a party.

The video started playing. It was from months ago, showing Charles in an outfit that you recognized but couldn’t remember from where. Ethan's voice could be heard clearly over the music. “I dare you to ask that girl out,” Ethan said, laughing, but you still couldn’t tell who he was pointing at. “Bet you can't do it.”

Charles grinned, looking a little tipsy. “You're on,” he replied, to the cheers and jeers of his friends. The grainy video ended with Charles approaching you. A deafening silence enveloped you when you realized this was from the day you first met him.

Charles had a determined look on his face, but the video faded into the background. Your thoughts echoed painfully in the emptiness, the truth of your lover's betrayal reverberating within you.

Your heart sank further as you sat in silence to process. You felt a rush of emotions— betrayal, hurt, and anger. Tears welled up in your eyes as you replayed the video, hoping it was some sort of sick joke. But the evidence was right there, undeniable.

At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Charles walked in, a smile on his face. “Hey, love. What are you up to?” he asked, not noticing your distress at first.

You turned to him, your eyes brimming with tears. “What is this?” you demanded, holding up your phone with the video paused at the damning moment.

Charles's smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of horror. “Baby, how did you—” he started, stepping towards you as he felt the room spin a bit, all the blood rushing to his head.

“Does it matter?” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger as tears gathered under your eyes. “When you only even looked at me because of a stupid bet?”

“It started as a bet, yes,” Charles admitted, his voice pained. “But it's not like that now. I fell in love with you, Y/N. Everything we've had since then has been real.” He was quickly getting closer to you, but you flinched away and that stopped him dead in his tracks.

You shook your head, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You were so angry, your ears so warm that it wouldn’t be impossible if smoke started coming out of them.

Charles reached out, but you stepped back once again. “Please, Y/N. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have agreed to that dare, but I did. And yes, that's how it started. But the moment I got to know you, everything changed. I love you more than anything.”

“Do you have any idea just how humiliating this is?” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I thought what we had was special. I thought it was real. And now I find out it was all… a gamble to you.” You hated that you were showing him so many emotions but fuck, it hurt so much and you wish you could hurt him back.

“It is not a gamble,” Charles pleaded, tears forming in his eyes. ��Not after I got to know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Please, don't let this ruin us.” He could actually feel you slipping through his fingers.

“Fuck you, you’re the one who ruined this!” you said, turning away, trying to gather your thoughts, willing yourself to leave and hating yourself when you couldn’t. “Seriously,” you said quietly, not looking at him. “Fuck you.” You laid emphasis to show that you actually meant the words. “You’ve ruined me”

“Baby,” Charles's voice broke when he heard you say that he ruined you, but the way you glared at him because of the nickname had him backtracking. “Y/N, please just let me show you how that was all a lie. I love you. I can't fucking lose you over this.”

You walked to the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere. “It is still all a lie,” you declared in a voice that showed you were shutting down, barely above a whisper.

As you stepped out of the apartment, you heard Charles crying behind you, but you didn’t stop to mend his heart because you couldn't even feel yours in your chest.

Lando Norris

Lando’s phone buzzed with notifications as he stepped out of the room and you glanced at it absentmindedly, not intending to invade his privacy. But the screen lit up with messages from his friends’ group chat, and the first few lines caught your eye, seeing your name in them.

“Can’t believe Lando actually went through with it.” “I know, right? It’s hilarious that she still doesn’t know!”

Your heart sank as you read further, each message a dagger to your trust. They were discussing you— about Lando making a bet involving you. Your hands trembled, and you scrolled through the conversation, your worst fears unfolding before your eyes.

“Thought he’d be gloating but he hasn’t contacted at all.” “Shit, man, he’s been with her for a year. I'm not paying him that much!”

You felt sick to your stomach. The room spun around you as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. All those times you believed in Lando, trusted him with your heart— were they all just part of a cruel scheme? A fucking game?

You heard Lando approaching, unaware that you had seen everything. His smile faded as he saw the look on your face, the phone still clutched tightly in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously, sensing the tension in the air as he approached you with wide eyes.

This has happened before. Lando was always scared of coming home and finding it empty because you had found out about something he was afraid to tell you but in the past he was always wrong. It was a show, a friend, a book making you cry but today was different.

You held up the phone, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Care to explain this?”

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to dread as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a bitter laugh.

“Fuck, you really had me convinced!” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You made a bet? How much have you made so far, Mr. Norris?”

“Don't say that,” Lando looked like you had slapped him across his face. He reached out to you, his face pleading for forgiveness. “Y/N, I swear it wasn’t like that—”

“How much was it?” you demanded, the words laced with bitterness. “Bet you made a lot the day you finally got laid, huh?” “No!” Your boyfrie— ex-boyfriend screamed. His eyes were carrying moisture and you couldn’t help but scoff but he carried on. “I never took a single penny, Y/N. I.. I promise, I hadn’t even talked to them since the day i realized what assholes they were and—”

Lando’s face fell, his words faltering as he rushed forward to catch you in his arms, his tears finally falling once he saw your wet face. But the truth hung heavy in the silence between you, suffocating any hope of reconciliation.

Tears fell down your cheeks onto his arm as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings and sorry, I’m so sorry so so sorry sorry sorry, again and again against your head, blurring your vision. “I trusted you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I loved you.”

The weight of it all settled on you, and you sank deeper into the couch, overwhelmed by the betrayal. The anger that fueled you moments ago now gave way to a deep, searing pain. How could he have done this to you?

Lando kneeled down before you, his own tears betraying the magnitude of his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, reaching for you. “I never meant for you to find out.”

He carried on but your ears started ringing when the words registered. Wouldn’t a person with nothing to be guilty about, accept the truth and make up? Why was he so hell bent on keeping it under a hush?

His words felt hollow, empty promises in the wake of his betrayal and you cut him off as you pushed him away from you . “Get out,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lando hesitated, torn between wanting to explain and knowing that no explanation would mend what was broken. “Please,” you whispered and it was so small, so scared that he got up immediately and nodded.

He kissed your head again and you let him linger as you closed your eyes,“I.. I’ll be back, baby.” With a final, agonized look at you, he turned and left, leaving you alone in the wreckage of your shattered trust.

The silence enveloped you, broken only by your ragged breaths and the echoes of his footsteps fading away. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hold together the pieces of your heart that he had callously shattered.

As the tears continued to fall, you felt a different kind of ache—the ache of knowing that the love you had believed in was now a painful memory because yes, he was coming back but you wouldn’t be here.

Later, Lando would enter the house in hopes of finding you but just like his worst nightmare, you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t be there to hold him as he’ll slowly lose it running across the house while he’ll look for you. None of your things would be there.

Yes, he destroyed you but also himself.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? 💃

2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j

CW: NSFW

You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.

You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.

Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.

You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.

Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.

Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!

Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.

Michael Myers

Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.

When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.

But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.

As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.

The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.

Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.

Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.

Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!

Jason Voorhees

We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.

And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.

When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!

He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.

Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!

No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.

Brahms Heelshire

Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.

He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.

He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.

And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.

Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.

He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.

Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

Needless to say, he agrees to do it.

And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.

Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.

He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.

Vincent Sinclair

It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!

He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.

He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.

But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.

He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.

On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.

He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.

He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.

But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!

Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.

The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.

Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.

Bubba Sawyer

Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.

Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.

Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.

And your audience love to watch you do it!

In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .

Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?

Billy Lenz

Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!

He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.

So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.

Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.

And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?

He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.

He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.

The mask stays on!

Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.

You two can make it big in BDSM communities.

Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.

Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.

There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.

Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.

He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.

He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.

Otis Driftwood

Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.

Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.

Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.

Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.

Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.

Baby Firefly

Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.

Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!

She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.

The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.

The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?

Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!

You end up apologising for her.

People are into it though.

Yautja (Predator)

Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.

Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.

He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.

Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.

Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.

You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.

All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere uramichi punishing his fem darling who tried to escape with pleasure?

"God, look at you baby. Dripping all over the bed and I haven't even done anything yet" He says in awe, watching how his fingers drip with your juices, all while you're unable to even hide your face, hands tied to the side of the bed as you struggle to catch your breath.

"Honestly, with how wet you are, I'd think you did that stunt on purpose. Is that it? You just like me riled up because you know what I'm capable of doing to you?"

His voice is sickly sweet, his lips sucking obscenely on his fingers that were just inside you, groaning deep in his throat as he slides between your forced open legs, cuffed to the end posts of the large bed.

His thumbs come to hold your swollen pussy lips open, his expression that of admiration and contemplation, wondering just how much of a mess he can turn you into.

You're so cute when you yelp at the way he plays with your stiff clit, and when you shake and try to apologize, he just can't help but smile. You knew the consequences! Why are you acting like this is all a big surprise? Surely you have to be doing this on purpose!

The rose toy he got earlier that week, would that be good to try? Your toes curl and your voice goes hoarse when he gets a little carried away, and well, this isn't exactly supposed to be easy on you.

You wince, feet trying to firmly plant on the mattress as the toy vibrates and suctions right on your clit, your nerves set alight as you writhe and try to both get away and grind down harder.

"There you go again, acting like you don't love how I treat you. Honestly, you could use some acting classes" He says, deadpanned but not at all bored. He presses the toy down harder, sliding his fingers inside of your clenching and fluttering walls while you sob, wrists yanking in the bindings as the toy relentlessly sucks and makes your muscles taut.

Those pianist fingers only make it worse, the pleasure so intense it drives you up a wall. You didn't even have the cognitive ability to plead with him, it was useless anyhow, but this was making even thinking difficult. Without a warning, that cord in your stomach just snaps. And the mess that leaves you and your mouth makes you want to curl up and die.

Uramichi just latches his mouth to your pussy, sucking and drinking you in, firm hands holding you up by your ass as he takes every bit he can get. It's almost cute how easy it is to make you squirt. His cute sensitive little co-star.

"There we go, let it all out baby. See? It's so easy for you to be good for me like this! It's making me wonder why I let you be untied in the first place" He says aloud, dragging his thumbs up and down your swollen vulva as you sniffle and try to form any semblance of an apology.

It's useless. You know it is. But the panic doesn't stop your mouth from moving and speaking words that fall on deaf ears.

His fingers slide back inside, his demeanor changing as his palm presses against your abused and sore clit, fingers pumping and curling at a punishing, brutal pace.

"You're not fuckin sorry. Not yet. One orgasm? Please. I'll make you sorry. Make you cum again and again and again while you gasp and writhe, and beg me. Don't care if you pass out. Don't care if it hurts. You tried to leave. You have no one to blame but yourself."

The way he fingers you, deep and demanding, you can only openly sob as more wetness drips down to your ass. It's wet, sticky, the noises only make you feel more shame as the man comes to suck on your nipples, biting and tugging them aggressively as he works you into another orgasm, the pain mixing with the pleasure only making your brain all the more foggy and broken.

Two orgasms in and you're already sobbing? Goodness, you really know how to put on theatrics! But if you didn't want this you wouldn't be so fucking wet, taking everything he gives you, sucking his fingers in for more. Does he look stupid?

You wanted this.

"Look at you, creaming all over my hand, spraying like a faucet. I give you what you need, don't I? Make that nasty ache go away and give your little pussy what it needs. I can play you like an instrument, anyway I like" He grins, wild and manic as he grinds his palm against your spasming clit, only making you spill into yet another overstimulated orgasm.

You don't even get to call his name or take a breath before he reaches for the rose toy again, holding it in front of his face with a shit eating grin.

"I think you, the toy and I are going to be well acquainted by the end of this. Then once you're all nice and worn out for me, I can unwind by kissing it all better."

(Please god let there be no typos I haven't slept. Anyway I hope you enjoyed!!! -Mommabean )

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐯 𝐦𝐞𝐧 (+ 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐮) + 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬. (𝟑)

➺ INCLUDES: south terano, shinichiro sano, keizo arashi (benkei), takeomi akashi, mitsuya takashi, senju kawaragi (all of legal age, timeskip or bonten) x fem!reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | this post contains explicit porn links!! you may need to have a twitter account or change your privacy settings to be able to see them. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

➺ NOTE | i’ll be taking a break from twitter links after this one. I want to focus on actual writing rather than straight up porn lol

SOUTH.

If there's one thing South loves more than pounding your pussy, it's shoving his cock down your throat. He’ll have you laying on your back with your head hanging off the side of the bed, his cock stuffed deep inside your throat. He’ll wrap his hand around the large bulge and jerk it before withdrawing just long enough to let you breathe, quickly going back to pushing himself all the way down your throat, watching as you swallow him down effortlessly.

↳ LINK ↲ [broken :(]

BENKEI.

Benkei is always so gentle with you. Because of this, you’d think morning sex with him would also be gentle; soft whispers exchanged in each other’s mouths while he gently pushes his cock into you, his hand on your clit helping you reach your climax faster. While this scenario does happen, it doesn't always go the way you think it will. Most times when he's been awake for longer than you have - he'll have you laying down on your belly, one of your legs dangling off the bed as he takes you from behind, your face buried deep into the pillow to muffle your moans, fists twisting the sheets. His hands grip onto your hips and the plump skin of your ass as he chases his high, each thrust bringing the two of you closer to your limit.

↳ LINK ↲

SHINICHIRO.

Days where Shin has the house to himself are rare, but when he does, the two of you always make the most of it. Those days usually consist of cuddling, making out, and, well, lots of sex. It's the only time when you can be as loud as you want — and most importantly your only opportunity to fuck whenever and wherever you want. You’ll be preparing breakfast in the morning and Shin will have you pressed against the counter before you can even begin to light the stove, his hands pushing your skirt up so he can bury his face between your thighs, starting his day with his favorite breakfast.

↳ LINK ↲ [broken :(]

TAKEOMI.

This man will lose his fucking mind if you give him head, especially if you do it out of nowhere while the two of you are relaxing in bed or watching a movie on the couch. It’ll start with you palming him over his sweatpants, teasing him just long enough to get him hot and bothered, his mind becoming too cloudy to focus on anything outside of you. He’ll lift himself up and push his pants down to his thighs, your lips immediately wrapping around his thick cock, sucking and stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth.

↳ LINK ↲

MITSUYA.

Mitsuya much prefers giving rather than receiving, which is why he always insists on eating you out before fucking you. You don’t even have to return the favor — he doesn't need it. Don't get me wrong, he does enjoy getting head and he obviously won't refuse a blowjob when you offer him one, but watching you moan and squirm as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of you has to be his favorite sight in the world. All he wants is to make you feel good, his hands resting on your ass as you circle your hips and hump his face, pushing his tongue deeper and fucking yourself on it as you sit on his pretty face.

↳ LINK ↲

SENJU.

Senju eats you out so good, it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she manages to break you into a moaning mess and pull multiple orgasms out of you with just her tongue. She knows exactly what you like, what to do and where to focus in order to get a specific reaction out of you or have you pull her hair just a bit tighter — your moans like music to her ears as she devours you.

↳ LINK ↲

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ top of everything (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : max verstappen x male reader

summary: max is best because he believes he is the best ( in everything )

tw : fluff; a little suggestive

fc : vinnie hacker

a/n : MY FIRST MALE READER FIC ! if you don’t like reading it, please don’t read, but leaving hate is not an option, AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY HOMOPHOBIC COMMENTS, you don’t like it or support, just skip it ! lysm 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by nicholaschavez and 636,287 others

ynhacker my love is a monster in the show ( and 🛌 )

view comments

user1 HE IS GAY !?

user2 LMAO BOTH THE ACTORS IN MONSTER ARE GAY !?

user3 CHAVEZ IS GAY !?

nicholaschavez I am never letting you click pictures of mine

ynhacker alright then, you are not licking my tattoos

user4 SIR FREAK !?

user5 OPEN AN ONLYFANS, YALL WILL BE BILLIONAIRES

user6 me being an old fan and sipping tea ☕️

user7 they loooook so good together

user8 if they have a kid- the gene race is won

user9 both of them are so hot

user10 why are hot men all gay ?

liked by user1, maddisonbeer and 763,862 others

ynhacker oh, I am both 😌

view comments

user1 SOMETHING HAPPENED BETWEEN HIM AND NICHOLAS

user2 WHAT !? THEY BROKE UP

user3 no they didn’t, nich still has their pictures

user4 no, I mean, Y/n said that nicholas doesn’t like him posting thirsty pictures so for the past 7 months he had not posted even one thirsty selfie

user5 THIS IS A THIRST TRAP !?

user6 they def broke up if y/n is back to posting fuck me daddy photos

user7 he is def the one doing the cardio, not receiving -

liked by maddisonbeer, maxverstappen1 and 873,367 others

ynhacker they said Latina air and fast cars helps with break ups 🍃

view comments

user1 THEY BROKE UP 😭😭😭

user2 DAD AND DADDY BROKE UP 😔😭😭😔

landonorris it was amazing meeting you !!!

liked by ynhacker

user3 where did lando spawn out of 💀

user4 let him spawn, he is not gay

user5 Lando is dating magui I think

user6 IDC, Y/N'S FUCKBOY ERA IS BACK !!?

user7 we love a hot gay man with hot girl besties 👄

mclaren see you soon again!!!

ynhacker definitely admin, coming for the cars and bundas 🍑

user7 HUH!?

liked by user1, user2, and 736,276 others

enews Weeks after rumours, Y/N Hacker, who is the ex-boyfriend of Nicholas Chavez was seen in his car with a mystery man at the gas station in Vegas.

view comments

user1 my man does not waste time 😭

user2 who is the mystery man !?

user3 that's..MAX VERSTAPPEN !?

user4 ARIANNA WHAT YOU DOING HERE !?

user5 he is soo drunk

user6 WHY IS HE DRIVING !?

user7 they casually be exposing max breaking laws-

user8 not only the FIA but even FBI will be after him 😌

user9 MAX IS GAY !?

user10 nah, they maybe friends ?

user11 I am loving to see this side of max

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 876,279 others

ynhacker Jimmy and Sassy love me, he does too well 🙂‍↕️

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user1 wasn't he a dog person ?

user2 when did he adopt cats ?

user3 those are Max's cats !!

user4 MAX VERSTAPPEN !?

user5 the f1 grid in the likes-

landonorris max is cursing in Dutch here

ynhacker that's a very Charles thing to do

charlesleclerc EXCUSE ME !?

ynahacker excused, now let Carlos overtake 😌

carlossainz55 whenever you come to Spain, tell me, you are not even spending a euro

user6 I am living for these sudden interactions-

maxverstappen1 return my sons

ynhacker they love me more than you 🤭

maxverstappen1 get my sons along with you

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,367,972 others

ynhacker shirtless because he does not own any shirt except the redbull one

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redbullracing glad to see our driver doing his duties

ynhacker you certainly are not doing anything for him tho -

landonorris mate, you are going to get him kicked out

ynhacker nah, they will be digging their graves by kicking him out

landonorris YOU can get banned

ynhacker will they mess with Max's plus one?

landonorris point

maxverstappen1 why do you own a phone!?

maxverstappen1 stop clicking random pictures of me

charlesleclerc give the context of the middle on though

ynhacker one word : REDBULL

maxverstappen1 we look cute in the last one

ynhacker it's all you 🤭

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liked by landonorris, francolapinto and 1,762,576 others

ynhacker Lando's and I are matching 4️⃣💤

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user1 his closet is exactly like I imagined

user2 messy like his driving -

user2 is blocked by ynhacker

user3 KING 👑

user4 are all the f1 drivers gay ?

user5 wasn't he like dating max ?

user6 and now Lando ?

landonorris can I kill you for exposing my wardrobe ?

maxverstappen1 let me kill you before that

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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 2,765,465 others

ynhacker MY CHAMP IS ON THE TOP OF THE CHAMPIONSHIP ( and me 🤭)

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tg : @callsignwidow

[prettyoatmeal]

Soaked Thighs (König x Reader)

Horny posting- sorry.

GENRE: Smut

SUMMARY: He fucks your thighs 🤭

Word Count: 468

***************

Masterlist here!

Your hips almost began to ache as his iron grip was practically ripping into your flesh.

He was close.

Your boyfriend's hips slammed into your thighs with a speed you could barely comprehend. Chasing his orgasm, he couldn't hold himself back.

The soft flesh of your thighs was enough to send him into hysteria like this. The way you squeezed them around his cock, your legs together propped like this over his shoulder, your wetness mixing with his, it was making him mad. He was in complete euphoria as he sobbed into your shoulder, begging for his release.

König couldn't help but let those choked sobs, he couldn't keep himself quiet as his brain couldn't comprehend anything else except how good you were making him feel.

"Please, please, please- ah,,"

His hot breath against your shoulder did no help, your wetness taking the best of you, making you let out a small whine.

You didn't think it was possible, but that needy whine you let out fuelled that burning fire inside him as his cock began to plow between your thighs faster and harder than before.

A mess was what he was. A sweaty mess chasing his orgasm, humping into you like a goddamn animal in heat, begging you for his release.

With eyes full of tears which have been constantly dripping and smearing onto your shoulder, he looked up at you, tired, mad, desperate.

"P-Please, Schatz... I can't-"

He was cut off by another sob he choked on as those beautiful, glistening tears rolled down his face. Overstimulated even before release, it was pathetic. His legs were shaking, he was on the very edge of glory as those loud, wet noises echoed in your ears along with those whimpers and whines König couldn't keep down his throat.

"I can't take it- fuck -anymore,, my love, please."

He'd beg and beg and beg and beg. That's all he could do. And all you could do was look back into those glassy eyes with a small smirk. You didn't say anything back. You didn't need to say anything back, the look on your face had said it all. His eyes widened.

You felt him tense up between your thighs, his hips struggling to keep the same pace. Letting out the most broken moan this man could, his thick seed spurted over your thighs and stomach as his hands gripped onto you like never before. His couldn't help but crash his forehead against yours as he let out those high pitched whines with your thighs continuing to squeeze around his cock even after his orgasm.

"Did you have fun?" You asked him with a smile as your hands made their way up to caress his wet, tear stained cheeks.

And his voice was gone, all he could do was nod.

***************

Goodnight <3

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹

— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )

ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x

also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !

pair — reader x jing yuan

wc — ~1k

contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful

you couldn’t stand it.

the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.

you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.

what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.

you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.

“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”

he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.

“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”

you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.

but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.

the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.

“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”

“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.

“prove it.”

“wha–?”

“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.

“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”

“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”

jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.

he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…

“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.

he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.

you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?

jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.

you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.

“jing yuan, sir?”

a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”

those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..

you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.

he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.

“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”

why did you doubt him, even?

you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.

his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)

“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?

“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.

he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.

“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”

hsr masterlist ♥︎