#sid writes shit

[retrosabers]

I am so glad you've found your spark again to write!

Could I please request a smutty Logan fic with "I can't control myself around you" and "Fuck, make that noise again"

Thank you!!

thank you anon :( that genuinely means a lot to me, i hope you know that! sorry this took a little while, my brain was trying to cook up the most delicious scenario possible and this is what it came up with. thank you so much for your patience & your request! i hope you enjoy 😋

��𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: logan shows you just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes.

contains: smut content below the cut. MINORS DNI. oral (fem receiving), fingering, a wee bit of overstimulation if you squint, swearing, logan being hot as fuck per usual, somewhat rushed ending

word count: 2k

it’s nearly impossible for a man like logan to die.

the adamantium fused to his skeleton coupled with insane regenerative capabilities meant there were only a select few scenarios that could end his life. those usually involved a lot of science; insanely specific logistics requiring lengthy explanation.

but this? the simple sight before him? just might be what takes him out.

you’re standing in the kitchen making coffee clad in nothing but one of his flannels, humming along to some random tune that was playing on the radio. it shocks him, stopping the man dead in his tracks on his way out of the bedroom. despite having spent the night with you a few times before, your relationship was still fairly new, and clothes sharing was one of the few intimacies you had yet to indulge in.

until today.

a mixture of emotions begin to stir in his chest. logan’s heart warms over the domesticity of it, realizing he didn’t want to wake up any other morning if it wasn’t like this. if it wasn’t with you. there’s a hint of possession, knowing his scent was lingering on your skin. he hopes that maybe you’ll wear his clothes out of the house one day, a physical reminder to everyone around you that you were his, and only his. the lust hits him the strongest as he really takes a second to look you over.

the hem of the shirt sits at the top of your thighs. logan knows if you bend over in any capacity, he’ll catch a glimpse of the skimpy little panties he ripped off your body last night. his favorite pair to be exact. one of the sleeves hangs slightly off your shoulder, granting him a peak at some of the marks left just a few hours ago. the man smirks to himself, recalling how you mewled beneath him while he bit and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. then, when you finally turn around and catch him staring, you give him a bird’s eye view of your cleavage where the shirt was barely buttoned.

you look like something out of a dream. and he almost can’t believe you’re real.

“it’s rude to stare you know,” you tease him, leaning your hip against the counter. it makes the shirt ride up even further and logan nearly salivates.

god, do you even know what you’re doing to him?

logan moves from his position against the wall, pushing off it and slowly stalking towards you. his voice is rough and gravelly, still heavy with sleep.

“can’t help it bub. not when you look this good.”

you scoff. his large hands come to squeeze at your hips while yours rest across his bare chest, softly scratching at the layer of hair that sits atop it. “could say the same thing about you handsome.”

logan hums in content as he presses his lips against yours. it's slow and saccharine, a nonverbal good morning that makes you melt into him. his hands wander across your figure, caressing every curve he’s gotten to know like the back of his hand. when his palms slip under the hem of the shirt and begin to paw at your ass, you sigh into his mouth.

“i like you in my clothes,” he mumbles against your skin as his mouth travels to your neck, pressing languid, sensual kisses against the blooming marks.

“yeah?” you breathe out in reply, hands finding purchase in his messy hair.

“yeah,” he replies right next to your ear, voice dripping in desire. “let me show you just how much.”

you hum, amused by his arousal. “last night wasn’t enough for you, bub?”

it’s logan’s turn to laugh. a deep, almost condescending sound that vibrates through your entire body.

you whimper at the loss of contact when he pulls away, only to let out a squeal seconds later when he hoists you onto the countertop in one swift motion. you flush, eyes widening at the display of his strength. the way he could manhandle you with ease was something you had yet to get used to.

“darlin’ you should know by now i can’t control myself around you,” he coos. “especially when you’re parading around lookin’ like this.”

you preen at his words, letting out the softest little sound and he gleams with pride. his eyes rake over you once more, setting your skin ablaze with all the hunger that was swimming in those hazel irises. one hand rests snugly around your hip, while the other inches towards the apex of your thighs.

logan’s thumb rubs soft circles into your skin, his pointer finger teasing the waistband of your underwear. your breath hitches at the touch, a barely there gesture that makes warmth pool in your belly. how he manages to get you so worked up over so little, you have yet to discover. he retracts his digit, letting the elastic snap against your skin. you flinch in his hold and he chuckles.

“relax,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i gotcha.”

there’s no better way to start your day than by watching logan sink to his knees in front of you. the early morning light peeks in through the curtains, casting a golden halo around his head while he starts his path up your bare legs towards where you needed him most. he looks heaven sent, and you silently thank whatever gods existed for the beautiful man kneeling between your thighs.

his kisses against your skin grow sloppier the closer he gets to your core. logan inhales deeply, catching wind of your arousal. the scent was maddening, a perfume he could never grow tired of. knowing that he was behind it, that you were just as hungry for him as he was for you, rials him up even more.

his voice is low and sensual, bordering on smug when he states, “clearly last night wasn’t enough for you either.”

logan yanks the hem of his shirt up, exposing your lower half. he presses a wet kiss against your clothed mound, inhaling your sweet aroma. you sigh, your hips moving forward on their own accord, desperate to feel more of him.

“logan,” you breathe out. “don’t tease.”

“don’t tease?” he parrots your question. “you’re one to talk.”

“s’just a shirt.” you reason meekly, still not fully awake yet, and somehow already drunk on logan.

“not to me darlin’” his breath is hot and heavy against your cunt as he finally grants your wish, pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe up your center. “not to me.”

you’re almost embarrassed over the moan that comes out of your mouth, but god do you feel good. logan doesn’t waste any time, yanking your underwear down your legs before he starts to devour you like a man starved. his tongue darts back and forth between your entrance and your swollen clit, a delicious rotation that has you feeling boneless in record time. you throw your head back, hand reaching out to grip onto his brown locks.

its moments like these where you wonder how you were ever with anyone else before him. nothing and no one could compare to the pleasure that logan brought. his desire for you was never fully satiated, and when you look down to catch logan staring back at you with lidded eyes, you don’t think yours will ever be either.

“feel good?” he asks rhetorically, knowing the way your body responds is answer enough. all you can muster out of your mouth is a high pitched whine as he slips two fingers into your entrance without warning.

logan’s cock twitches in his boxers at the sound. “fuck, make that noise again for me baby.”

with the combination of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his lips sucking harshly on your clit, you unintentionally obey his command. it’s music to logan’s ears, encouraging him to pick up the pace.

you can feel the muscles in your abdomen growing taught. a sign that your orgasm was approaching. logan, ever the observer, yanks you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders and dangling your ass off the edge of the kitchen counter.

with the new and better angle, your back arches, causing the shirt to fall even further off your shoulder and exposing more of your flushed skin. with your eyes fluttering and your mouth dropped open in the most perfect pout, logan thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

not as beautiful as when you’re cumming however. that part he was determined to have happen sooner than later.

“fuck,” you preen, beginning to grind against his face as your hips fall into a steady rhythm. “don’t stop.”

“wasn’t planning on it.” he mumbles against your folds, his tongue now accompanying the thick digits.

his cockiness only expedites your release. with one hand gripping the counter and the other tugging at your boyfriend’s hair, you teeter close to the edge. at the pull of his locks, logan groans into your pussy, his nose nudging at your clit. the shockwaves that spread through your body feel like wildfire, and it’s the most wonderful way to burn.

“gonna cum for me honey?” logan questions, curling his fingers in just the right way, knowing that’s the spot to hit to guarantee your climax. you nod, too focused on the growing pressure in your core to speak actual words. the only thing you’re capable of right now is a string of curses with logan’s name sprinkled in between. it falls from your lips like a prayer as your orgasm creeps up the back of your neck.

when it hits, it washes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the most electrifying kind of bliss. with one final, loud moan, your hips jolt foward, thighs tightening around logan’s head all the while his ministrations continue. he always rode out your high until you were gently shoving him off from the overstimulation.

“lo,” you breathe out, slowly coming back down to reality. he hums between your legs in acknowledgement, ceasing his actions and offering one final kiss to your sensitive clit before rising to his feet.

his already sleep mused hair was ruffled even further from your grabby hands. there’s a dreamy sheen in his eyes, from the early morning or your release soaking the lower half of his face, you’re not sure. whatever it was, he was beaming, smiling at you with so much affection and adoration you felt like you could explode. a stark contrast to the filth that took place mere moments ago.

“if i had known that wearing your shirt was going to result in that, i would’ve stolen it a long time ago,” you joke, pulling up the sleeve to cover yourself.

logan snickers, slotting himself between your spread legs and finding your lips once more.

“looks way better on you anyways” he murmurs between kisses, ravaging your mouth while caressing your jaw. tasting yourself on his tongue was always a dizzying thing, even more so at the thought of what was in store as you felt his very prominent bulge rubbing against your thigh.

“is that so?” you challenge, tracing your fingers along the trail of hair that travels below his waistline. you don’t miss the way his muscles flex under your touch, the way he grows even harder at the jest.

logan pulls back, the picture of sex and smugness as the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. he makes a show of sucking your juices off his fingers, groaning dramatically as they enter between his spit soaked lips. when he nods in the direction of the bedroom, you’re already getting wet again, knowing exactly what the rest of your morning is going to entail.

“go in there, and lay down with your pretty little ass up for me will you?”

you quirk a brow, loving to push his buttons. little acts of defiance always made the end result worth it after all.

logan smacks his palm against your bare ass, taking pleasure in the little yelp you let out and the dazed look in your eyes.

“m’not done with you just yet.”

thanks for reading! <3

[ohmyletter]

𝐎𝐇𝐌𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

* indiciates smut. MINORS DNI

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋:

LOGAN HOWLETT

coming soon!

BUCKY BARNES

coming soon!

TASM!PETER PARKER

coming soon!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒:

STEVE HARRINGTON

coming soon!

EDDIE MUNSON

coming soon!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐒:

POE DAMERON

coming soon!

ANAKIN SKYWALKER

coming soon!

DIN DJARIN

coming soon!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃:

DARYL DIXON

coming soon!

[harlowhockeystick]

9 and 18 with coach!sid please <3

"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin?" & "i can tell when someone wants me" | poetic prompts | warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, i can redo if you don't want smut with these prompts!)

takes place after this fic.

"girl, quit eye fucking and leave some room for the rest of us. i can tell your fantasizing, but i don't blame you."

"i'm not touching him, so how can i be guilty of anything?" y/n co-workers words snap her out of her daze as she teases back. it was the beginning of an emergency staff meeting, the meaning was unknown and it was causing quite the buzz around the gymnasium. teachers, admin, and athletic staff alike were sitting together asking each other what they'd heard, known, or if they were getting fired. there was a heavy level of anxiety sitting in the room amongst them.

"sorry," y/n mumbled and sitting up straight. her friend chuckled beside her. but she couldn't help but stare, it had been a week since their dinner together, and it was all she could think about. she'd had trouble teaching, would zone out when talking to carter, their scandalous encounter was taking over her life.

"what do you think they're gonna talk about?" the other teacher asked sitting next to her, sipping coffee out of her tumbler and scrolling through emails looking for clues. "i think they're gonna talk about staff relationships."

her words made y/n's stomach drop. did it get out? did someone see her car at his house? did carter say something? did carter find out? it's amazing how many questions can run through the brain in just two seconds.

"i heard that the boys tennis coach, thomas, is having an affair with the girls tennis coach. i think one of the players caught them in the athletic offices but they did something to keep the kid quiet." y/n feels her nerves calm down, but not all that much. her eyes met with sidney's and she felt like he was trying to silently tell her something but she couldn't pick up on it. they weren't that connected.

yet.

moments later the superintendent gets on the mic and announces to faculty that in fact, both the girls and boys tennis coach were let go due to their actions. the boys coach resigned, and the girls coach was fired due to threatening the school district since she didn't do anything wrong and she was a single woman.

she felt a ball coil up inside her stomach as the staff were reminded of the policy: relationships among staff must be brought before the board if they occur within the school year. it was a district policy, to keep drama out of the way, and to keep relationships private to the parties benefit. at least, that was the way it was explained.

-

that meeting was bullshit. sent 10:45 am

y/n's phone pings signaling a text from sidney. she reads it as her students are taking their test. she feels butterflies and anxiety at the same time. her leg bouncing underneath her desk as she plans a reply.

...but what did he mean? was he against the rule, meaning he wanted a relationship? or was it just a waste of time? yes, it was a waste of time.

i know, it could have just been an email. sent 10:48

he never responds, but she gets too busy with other class periods. she gets lost back in time once more, fantasizing about that night. during lunch break spent in her darkened classroom, a bowl of warmed up soup in front of her as she grades papers until the next class comes through.

but she gets lost, in the deep trance of the memory of him. if she thinks really hard she can still feel his tongue sliding against her slick core, she can feel herself coming undone again at the force of his skilled and talented body.

she can feel his calloused but soft hands sliding down her body, grasping at her breasts while he sucks all of the sweet juice that flows out of her. she remembers her back arching off his wooden dinner table while he lapped at her for at least ten minutes straight, before he slid his thick cock inside of her for another ten.

she's taken out of her daydream by the sound of the school bell. she has three minutes to get herself back in order to teach again. she considers assigning today a reading and catch up day...so she can continue to reminisce.

dinner at my place? sent 1:23 pm

hell yes sent 1:24 pm

-

"you're bad at hiding your feelings, y/n." sidney stated, flipping over the steak on the grill and setting his wine glass down on the granite countertop. y/n sat on the barstool across from him, drinking a cocktail she made herself.

"what's that supposed to mean?" she took a bigger swig of the alcohol this time, holding eye contact with him as he leaned onto the countertop with his hands, making himself appear bigger in front of her. it worked.

"i can tell when someone wants me. half the women in that school want me, but you're the only one who went for it." she feels like a crook who was caught. "i know you act like last week didn't happen, but it's all i've been thinking about." now he's standing just inches from her on his back patio, the smell of grilled steak and vegetables filling her brain and the firm but agonizing touch making her go weak.

"it's all i can think about too." his thumb glides across her cheek, his whiskey colored eyes staring into her soul, what it feels like for hours. he bites his lip and she thinks she's gonna pass out.

"tell me what you thought about, maybe we'll reenact it after dinner. can't have you eating cold steak, can i?"

[mlmgaze]

daniel waking up to marius kinda starting to press into him and, after getting his bearings, his first move is to ask sleepily if marius had another dream about daniel getting hurt. marius says no, and after a second daniel asks if marius had a dream about armand getting hurt. and marius just freezes (because of course obviously that's what it is because marius dreamed again about armand going into the sun and he wants to feel comforted and reassured but armand isn't here and daniel is and daniel is still blood of his blood and *i am dragged away by the guards)

[reagantalkssports]

My favorite wag!!

[hidingoutbackstage]

ada deserves better than to be tied to that white man

[memethebum]

*taps microphone* happy @soulxmakaweek bitches, bros, and non-binary hoes!!

Got a hospital fluff-ish fic for Day 1: Devotion hehe

————————————————————————

Soul was no stranger to self-worth issues, but this particular situation appeared to shoot towards the top of his Why I Hate Myself list.

Kim’s solemn expression while giving him and Maka basic treatment only appeared to solidify that fact before the heavy layers of bandages across his body and the stiff mattress of the hospital bed caused his thoughts to linger through the quiet evening.

Know your place Giriko’s words cut through Soul’s head while he tried not to stare at Maka, although he could tell she was already aware of his dilemma after probing their link for a few minutes.

“Don’t,” the Deathscythe murmured as Maka began to roll out of bed, causing his partner to give him a flat stare.

As if you’d listen to me if I said that he could practically hear her think through their murky connection as she gripped onto the wall and jumped forward each step.

Their hospital beds weren’t too far apart, allowing Maka to quickly plop onto the empty space of his mattress with a huff.

“Hey,” she mumbled through a weak smile before Soul slowly tucked a few of her bangs away from her face.

“Hi,” he chuckled while his partner laced their fingers together. She then carefully rested her head against his chest, causing Soul’s body to relax as they both let out a sigh in content.

“I already miss my bed,” Maka sighed onto his neck before he let out a low snort.

“Yea, but we’ll have to make due for at least a week after the ass whoopin’ we got,” Soul joked, earning him a quizzical stare from Maka.

“What?” the Deathscythe questioned, although he immediately regretted the decision after feeling his partner gently rake her palm across the bandaged wound Giriko had given him.

“He was dumb Soul,” she whispered before tapping a finger against the tip of the gauze.

“Dumb but not wrong,” he huffed back once realizing that he couldn’t rope his way out of the situation.

“What kinda’ Deathscythe am I if I couldn’t even hold my own ground? Not to mention how the black blood has me running in circles sometimes, the way I always have to wait n’ see what you wanna do in a fight, and still can’t deal with not being as great as We-,” Soul lamented before biting his tongue once realizing how he was about to bring up his life before moving to Death City.

However, if Maka caught on to his mistake, she didn’t seem to be all that interested in squeezing any new information out of him.

Instead, she shifted her hand once more and laid it flat on the center of Soul’s chest, causing his cheeks to redden from the gesture before remembering how she’d done the same thing when he’d first gotten the discolored scar etched across his body.

“You haven’t been scrambling around by yourself y’know,” Maka murmured, forcing the Deathscythe to focus on the way her eyes seemed to have been glossed over while she mapped out both his new scar and the old one.

He then took a moment to survey the blotched bruises against Maka’s neck and the multitude of cuts against her arms and legs before pausing for a second and then letting out a chuckle.

Guess that bastard was on to somethin’ Soul thought as it dawned on him how much his place had become her place ever since he’d laid his soul out to her when they’d first introduced themselves.

He’d thought running away from his past was possible, but being able to take in Maka’s disheveled yet resolute appearance time and time again had slowly shown the Deathscythe how he’d interlocked their pain and experiences together.

The impromptu wake up call had also elicited a small flicker of hope for finally being able to share his past with Maka without feeling like a failure or coward, although he supposed that could wait until they weren’t getting hospitalized every other Tuesday.

Guess I gotta build up a lil’ more courage until then Soul thought before snaking one of his arms around Maka and letting his face fall onto the soft expanse of her scalp.

“That sounds familiar,” the Deathscythe heard his partner exclaim before realizing he’d been humming out loud.

“Erm, yea…thought it might calm our nerves,” he murmured, eliciting Maka to release a sigh in understanding.

He’d ask Sid about some basic self-defense lessons later on, but for now he was more than content with allowing himself to absorb the warmth, hurt, and comfort he and Maka were collectively radiating.

[gummy-sharks666]

Allow me to introduce you to a ship that’s been plaguing my mind all day long

[hoodienanami]

since were living in this new age of understanding when it comes to how becoming famous (especially tabloid famous/infamous) at a young age negatively effects your mental health and psychological development i think its time that ppl start reevaluating how they talk about the sex pistols

[disruptxrr]

hellooo my darling how have u been today??? <3

hiiii, today i felt pretty awful but i'm way better now. sorry i took so long to answer this i forgot :( i think it's sweet that you asked how my day is going. i hope u had a great day i luv u <3

[retrosabers]

𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒.

anakin skywalker x fem! reader

summary: you really shouldn’t be letting anakin touch you like this. but if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?

contains: 18+ content. MINORS DNI. very steamy kissing, some minor grinding, riding, choking if you squint, anakin being a little shit

word count: 1.3k

a/n: kinda a rushed/shit ending but i found this in my drafts & i’m trying to post consistently to keep inspiration coming. so enjoy this baby fic of ani ;)

there’s a certain thrill that comes with breaking the rules.

you were always one to abide by them. believed that they were created for a reason, and that was reason enough to obey.

then you met anakin skywalker, and he threw that entire notion out the window.

he was temptation personified. forbidden fruit that you longed so desperately to have, to taste. between his lidded gaze and cocky smiles you found yourself entranced with the chosen one in ways that the council would’ve deemed shameful.

no attachments. that was the rule. but could desire be confused with attachment?

you were about to find out.

anakin’s lips slot against yours like it was meant to be. your hands tug at the collar of his robes, desperate to pull him impossibly closer in the dim lighting of the hallway. your every nerve was hyper aware of both his touch, and your surroundings.

anyone could come across you in this compromising position. despite the fact that everyone else retreated to their chambers for the evening, there was still a chance that a straggler was left wandering the halls. it makes you tense in his hold and pull away reluctantly.

you breathe out his name. a soft, desperate sound that makes his dick hard. the corner of anakin’s mouth turns up in a smug little grin.

“we can’t,” you shake your head, stating it matter of factly. like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, because it was. you were never a rule breaker, only a devout follower with good intentions. out of all the disobediences you could’ve ever committed, this would by far be the worst.

the rules of the jedi council weren’t something you treated as a request. they were orders. defying them meant defying a belief system you held so close to your chest, and letting go of everything you’ve ever known.

anakin knows it. and he’s determined to push you to the limit.

when his mouth returns to you, it’s gentler. more intimate. as if he’s trying to convince you to let go without outright saying it. his flesh hand comes up to softly stroke your cheekbone and you melt into him once more. your body thrums not only with lust, but with something else entirely. there’s a deeper connection between you both, an electrifying sensation that’s being drawn to the surface.

it’s like the force is telling you this is what you’re meant to do. and that maybe, just maybe, not every rule is meant to be followed.

anakin lets out a deep chuckle as you drag him back to your quarters with an eagerness he’s never seen before. as soon as the door shuts he presses you against it, aligning your cunt with his growing erection while his lips attach themselves to your neck.

when he finds your sweet spot, you gasp, muttering a curse as he smirks against your skin. one hand is wrapped firmly around your waist while the other maps out your body. a brush of fingers against the top of your ass, an experimental squeeze of your breast. anakin was making haste in figuring out what little things made you tick. he knew time was of the essence, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“just tell me what you want,” anakin murmurs next to your ear. his voice was low, dripping with a desire you could only dream of. you rubbed your thighs together to try and relieve the growing ache between your legs. he takes note, ego inflating over the effect he’s had before even touching you properly. his metal hand grabs your chin between the thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes to meet.

“whatever you want angel, it’s yours.”

he means it. fully and completely. tonight, anakin was yours to take. you could bleed him dry of anything and everything and he’d die a happy man.

your hands find purchase at the nape of his neck, threading your fingers through his sandy colored curls and dragging his face back to yours. it’s a heated mess of teeth and tongue that has you whining into his mouth when his hand lightly wraps around your throat.

he knew you weren’t just oogling at it for nothing.

when anakin pulls back, your lips seperate with a wet smack. he thinks he might cum on the spot just from how wrecked you look already. eyes on the brink of glassy, desperate and pleading for him. your lips in the most perfect pout, kiss bitten and glistening while you rake your tongue over them. and his hand around your throat, like he’s staking a claim over you. that you’re his and only his.

to him, you’ve never looked more perfect. and he doesn’t think he can wait any longer.

anakin starts undressing you with urgency. as though if he waits so much as another second, you’ll vanish into thin air and he’ll never get to have you like this again. you follow suit, shoving his robe off his shoulders and pushing him closer to the direction of your bed.

“this is wrong,” you squeak out as more and more of your clothes get thrown about the room. anakin’s top half is completely bare, his skin burning hot.

“so wrong,” he teases with faux concern, flashing his canines as he yanks your pants down. in a less than graceful stumble you kick them off, leaving you in nothing but a simple pair of underwear. suddenly you begin to feel self conscious under his gaze, but it fades when you realize his blue eyes were nearly black.

drinking in every inch of you with a look like he was going to devour you whole.

he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. and it made you long for him even more.

in a bold move, you push at his chest, watching gleefully as he falls back against the mattress. the new angle highlights his growing erection. your mouth waters at how big he looks despite the layer of fabric that still stands between you. anakin, ever the cocky observer, watches as your eyes widen and your chest heaves.

“if you want it,” he spreads his legs wider, a dangerously divine invitation. “then you’ve gotta come and get it.”

you heart stutters in your ribcage.

this was it.

the defining moment where your self control was put to the test.

an act that was so simple, yet so complicated.

when you suck in a breath and experimentally place your knees on either side of his hips, it dials up the heat. every inch of your exposed skin feels like it’s set ablaze. an almost delicious pain that slowly melts into pleasure.

when you reach below the waistband and wrap your hand around him, there’s an overwhelming sense of adrenaline. an exciting rush that you haven’t felt in what feels like a lifetime. the low whimper he elicits sends a shiver down your spine, feeling like a drug you want to take over, and over, and over again.

when you push your panties to the side and finally sink down onto his length, it feels like diving headfirst off a cliff with no end in sight. falling into an endless chasm of self reflection, realization, and ecstasy. your stomach does somersaults as you take him inch by inch, soft, breathy moans leaving your mouth the deeper he gets.

“that’s it,” he coos, brushing a stray piece of hair out your face. “i know you can take it.”

his praise makes any remaining anxiety dissipate.

you wonder if you should be disappointed in yourself at how quickly you caved. but in that very moment, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth, you realize that maybe you were wrong to be so obedient all this time.

because if this was wrong? then you sure as hell didn’t wanna be right.

thanks for reading! <3

[ohmyletter]

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[catboyelimgarak]

I literally can’t stand Gordon getting a new like Bad Girl romance, and Barbara being romantically paired up with Ra’s. I love her glow up but ??? Babe you can be so much more if these writers would have gotten their heads out of their asses. And Gordon has no chemistry with anyone else but Lee at this point. God, it’s like all these writers are straight cis white folk wanting a soap opera but with magic and shit

[emotionaldamages]

soft launch or hard launch - max verstappen

in which shes in a secret relationship with a certain redbull driver

social media au

part one| part two

note- this is my first time writing so it might not be as good, but hope you enjoy♡

masterlist

Liked by lewishamilton,maxverstappen, and 1,132,753 others

lando.jpg wild vera on a train @verahamilton

comments

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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 3,898,753 others

verahamilton vacation with my love♡

comment

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comments

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comments

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[hidingoutbackstage]

Fellas is it gay?