#taste so I'm not judging too hard

[icewindandboringhorror]

I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...

Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner

*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)

And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -

TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows

This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).

So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.

Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.

Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.

Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).

But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).

In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.

Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.

Now, doing the same thing for movies-

Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)

That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).

116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.

So, a for broader summary stuff..

I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.

If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.

ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.

I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0

[meteorella]

Nerdgasmic Rhapsody

pairings: loser!dom!ellie x popular!sub!reader

cw: flufff!! ellie's an absolute cutie pie. cursing (obv), oral! (r receiving), tribbing (maybe?), nipple play, after caree!!, pet names: sweetheart, baby, princess, that's all i think!

wc: 511

a/n: (intentional lowercase!!!) first ever ficcc omg🥹 i have never ever in my life written a fanfic before so pleaseee don't judge and also feel free to point out some mistakes and stuff!! I take criticisms as i'm sure it'll help me a lot throughout my writing journey :))) can't promise I'll post consistently considering I'm insanely dumped with school works but I'll definitely find time to do so. anyways i hope u guys enjoy this one!! Feel free to hit me w some ideaaasss :3

after you had made it official with the biggest dork on campus—ellie—people would randomly come up to you in the hallways and tease you, not believing how sweet she actually is. after all of your previous relationships, ellie is the only one who genuinely cared for you. despite her shy and nerdy demeanor, she's really fun to hang out with. she'd continuously yap about space, the comic books she's read—savage starlight—and drop all of its lore to you. the whole fucking lore. although you hardly cared. she was too adorable. most of the time, you would find yourself just looking at her sparkling green eyes, topped by her matte, black glasses, her hand gestures, and the soft smile plastered on her lips while she speaks. she's even more beautiful up close. how could others not see that? whilst ellie can be a total cutie pie, you cant deny how fucking insane she can be in bed.

when eating you out, she'd flick her tongue out relentlessly on your leaking hole. firmly gripping on to your thighs, she already knows your next motive. "nuh-uh, sweetheart. keep them open for me." she shoots you a knowing glare before diving back into your drenched core, keeping eye contact all the while. her gaze roamed over your appearance, hair disheveled, eyes rolled back, and completely fucked out. "s-sorry, baby–fuck." you moaned as you clutched onto her dino-printed sheets. so fucking cute. after you'd climaxed for the 3rd time, she'd climb on top of you and slip her tongue down your throat, allowing you to taste yourself as she grinded her own throbbing cunt against yours. your soaking wet pussies rubbing, and creating the most delicious rhythm together. she absolutely loved your boobs. she adored how it just bounces up and down as she rolled her hips above you. she took your nipple in between her thumb and her index finger and pinched them, making you flinch at the feeling. her glasses were all fogged up and crooked, but she couldn't care less. she was too engrossed on drawing out more of those angelic sounds that slips past your lips as she pleases you. "doing s–so good f'me, princess... fuck–so hot." when you had both finally reached your peak, she'd lean down and gently clean up all your juices from between your thighs with her tongue.

she gives absolutely the best aftercare imaginable. the routine would start with cleaning you up with a wet towel, swiping it's soft material across your face, your breasts, your legs, your inner thighs—she had always taken care of you in the most tender and loving way. she loved hearing your soft, exhausted sighs of relief, as you watch her with a smile on your face all while savoring the chocolate she so graciously offered you. after ellie finishes cleaning you up, she would settle beside you, enveloping you in her arms as she wrapped them around your waist. her lips showering your neck with gentle kisses as she whispered heartfelt words of affection. "i'm going to marry you one day."

YAAALLLL OMG I HOPE THIS DIDN'T SUCK TOO HARD😣😣😣🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 i hope u guys enjoyed this one, i really enjoyed writing thisss!!

tags: @ellstronaut

dividers: @khaer @plutism

[myllui]

I shifted

I shifted to my nana dr for about six months (even though only six seconds have passed here, since I set the time so that one month in the dr equals one second in this reality). I'm still a little confused from coming back, but overall, I feel good.

This dr isn’t my main one but could become my main one. Before I share some details, I want to clarify that this DR doesn't follow the anime’s storyline. For example, that asshole Takumi will never meet Hachi. I'll try to keep it brief, as I don't like talking too much about my dr after all, it is real life .

I live about 15 minutes away from Hachi and Nana’s apartment, in a suburb of Tokyo. I work at a bakery and also do art. Living in Tokyo between 1998 and 1999 is a mix of nostalgia and surreal. It's hard to describe precisely. I’ve also learned to live without modern smartphones, using those old brick phones with buttons instead. This has taught me to live more in the moment, without the constant need to check social media or waste hours scrolling through TikTok, aimlessly losing time.

In this dr, I’m learning to be more independent. Thanks also to my experiences in my Kpop drs, I've learned to manage an apartment on my own here: I do the laundry, cook, manage my budget, pay bills, and work in the bakery. Oh, and I'm also studying to get my driver's license.

I’ve also started learning to play the guitar, especially thanks to Nana. Playing has always been a huge dream of mine, but I never had the chance to do it in this reality. Once, I even got emotional with joy while holding the guitar in my hands, because it’s something I’ve always loved doing.

My relationship with Hachi and Nana is really great.

Hachi is very close to me; she often texts to ask how I’m doing, how work is going, and invites me to hang out on weekends or go to the pub together. I love going out with her because she’s unashamed of anything or anyone, and with her, I never feel judged. She also has a great sense of style. Even though colorful clothes aren’t really my thing, she’s helped me find a style that suits me. I must admit, though, that she requires a lot of patience since she’s a bit naive.

As for Nana Osaki, I really love her a lot. She’s given me so much advice on some of my personal concerns, and she’s the kind of person who could listen to you for hours. She shows her affection through sarcastic jokes. We share the same taste in music. It took a little while for her to fully trust me and start confiding in me, but I understand her, and our bond has grown over time.

I’m still getting to know Shin and Nobu. Shin is very reserved, but I feel like we’ll become great friends. Nobu, on the other hand, has already opened up, and we’ve quickly become close.

Next time I shift, I’ll come back with a suitcase full of Vivienne Westwood clothes, necklaces, and rings!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Blood Sugar II

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Summary: You go on Bake Off

"This time, on the Great Stand Up To Cancer Bake Off, it's Lioness time. Four of the England Lionesses brave the tent in the name of charity to tackle three challenges in the hope of securing, not the Euros trophy, but the star baker apron. This week's celebrities are: Leah Williamson, England captain and defender, Alessia Russo, goal scorer for England, Keira Walsh, England's midfield maestro and y/n l/n, England's youngest star."

You stand in front of your countertop, drumming your fingers against the wood as you look at all of the ingredients in front of you.

"Now, for your signature challenge, Paul and Prue would like you each to make a baker's dozen of sugar cookies," Noel Fielding says and you contemplate slamming your head onto the counter.

You knew agreeing to be on this was a bad idea.

"Each cookie must be hand-shaped," Alison Hammond continues," And made with love. You've got one hour. On your marks."

"Get set."

"Bake!"

"So," Leah says suddenly," Is this a good time to mention I don't know what a baker's dozen is?"

You've never really been a bigger baker. It wasn't really your speciality like a lot of other things like cooking your own meals and doing your own laundry.

There was also the added thing of the fact that no one in your family baked because you couldn't eat it. Well, you could, but it would send your sugar levels through the roof and you hated injecting more insulin than normal because it always stressed you out.

"Less!" You yell out," How much sugar is too much sugar?"

"I'm not helping you!" She yells back and you stick your tongue out at her.

"This is discrimination!" You declare as you start pouring your sugar in, hoping for the best.

The judges leave it ten minutes or so before they start walking around.

They got to Leah first, congratulating her on captaining the team to victory which she graciously waves off before getting way too competitive over a baking show.

Keira is next and it's hard not to be endeared by Keira, clearly the only sane person in the tent.

Alessia ends up accidentally breaking the electric mixer and tries to get everyone to ignore it by throwing a dish towel over it.

Then, it's your turn.

"So, y/n," Paul says," Do you have much experience with baking?"

"No," You reply.

"Did you prepare at all for this?"

"No."

"Do you have much hope you'll win?"

"What I'm hoping for is someone else does extremely badly so I don't come last."

Prue laughs. "Well that's honest of you. So, you have done no preparation at all?"

"I'm planning on just winging it," You admit," I'm diabetic so I don't really eat sugary things so I'm just hoping that they're edible."

"So you're not going to be tasting as you go?"

You eyes go wide. "Am I meant to do that?" You hand goes to cover your mouth. "No, are you joking? Am I meant to be doing that?"

The judges have a little laugh as they back away.

"Wait! Don't go! Am I meant to taste as I go?!"

Even though you don't taste as you go, you don't end up losing the challenge (not with plain tastebuds Leah Williamson in the running) but you don't win either.

Clearly, Keira's just good at everything.

The technical round is a disaster for everyone involved, even Keira and somehow, after burning her first set of fondant fancies, Alessia manages to win.

Leah continues to be the worst, which is what everyone expects so even though you don't taste anything, you're not the worst and, honestly, that's what you're aiming for.

You're here to provide the jokes and not to humiliate yourself on national tv and, you know, also to show that diabetics can bake too - not that you really knew that was a big issue until you signed up for this but apparently it is.

The only one that you actually practiced for was your showstopper.

'Your Biggest Triumph' was the theme and you'd had to practice for this one.

"Leah!" Keira shrieks suddenly and you whip your head around to see Leah with her hand in Keira's bowl of batter.

"I'm sorry Kei," Leah says, sounding not very sorry at all," But you're going to win if I don't sabotage you. I'm sure you understand."

You hold your breath as Keira's eyes dart towards Leah's bowl of unsupervised batter, leaping over the countertop to do the same.

"Wait, Kei! Keira, stop!"

Keira doesn't stop and you notice from the corner of your eyes Alessia moving as well.

You snatch your bowl up before she can grab it, sprinting to the other side of the tent.

Alessia follows you until you're backed up against the fridges.

"Less, Less!" You shriek, voice panicky as Leah and Keira wrestle at Leah's counter," Don't do this! You don't have to do this!"

"I'm sorry." Like Leah, Alessia doesn't sound sorry at all. "But it's for the greater good."

"Greater good! This is pure selfishness!"

"This is baking!"

"This is sabotage. Stay away from my bowl!"

"Come on. Don't make this hard than it needs to be."

An almighty crash sounds as Keira and Leah accidentally knock a mixer off the table and in the confusion, you manage to shove Alessia away to pour your batter into the pan.

The carnage continues throughout the time limit, only dampening when a truce is called so you can all decorate your cakes. Apart from that, it's a free-for-all as you find yourself standing on Leah's countertop, throwing wooden spoons at Keira and Alessia whenever they try to approach the pair of you.

"Alright, y/n," Prue says at the end of the time limit," Tell us about your greatest triumph."

"Okay." You point at the various decorations on your cake. "So this cake is a representation of my Dexcom. I know everyone else is choosing football stuff and all that but when I was six, I started feeling really bad. I couldn't focus and I was sweating and I couldn't really move well and I felt tired. It went on for a few days."

You point at one of the little marshmallow figures you made.

"I was playing in Alessia's garden with her and I threw up everywhere and she insisted on having her parents take me to the hospital. I'd developed DKA and was about an hour or so from going into a coma. The doctors ran tests and stuff and found that my pancreas had shut down. So, my biggest triumph was being diagnosed with diabetes."

You give a little shrug, pointing out the way you'd shaped your cake to look like your Dexcom and how on top you'd decorated it with marshmallow versions of you and Alessia and the doctor that you still went to get check-ups from.

"That's a lovely story, y/n," Paul says," But let's see if the actual cake tastes good. What kind is it?"

"Victoria Sponge because it's my mum's favourite."

Each judge takes a slice and you hold your breath.

Paul holds his hand out to you.

Your eyes go wide. "Are you serious?"

"Shake my hand."

You do that gleefully. Getting a Paul Hollywood handshakes means a lot.

"I mean, there's not much I can say," He says," The sponge is perfect. The filling is perfect. The flavours work well. The story to go with it is fantastic."

"And you never tasted any of it?" Prue asks and you shrug with a grin.

"I'm on a strict diet."

"Well...I mean if football doesn't work it then baking certainly will."

The Star Baker Apron you win at the end hangs up on your wall with your Euro's medal.

[raekensluver]

betrayal's embrace

description: you and theodore nott have been in a relationship and everything was going perfect until one day theo comes to you, regret in his eyes and he tells you he made a mistake.

pairing: cheater!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: angst, cheating (theo to r), your bestfriend is a shitty friend, arguing, mattheo and draco eavesdropping.

song rec: be alright by dean lewis- "and then you say to me you made a dumb mistake"

w.c: 1.3k

an: this song inspired me a little too much...

the slytherin common room lay eerily quiet, the fireplace crackling softly as it fought against the midnight chill. the dim light from the candles above-cast dancing shadows on the polished floor, and the emerald walls whispered secrets that only the ancient portraits knew. you sat curled up on a plush armchair, the cold leather sending shivers down your spine as you stared into the flickering flames. the emptiness of the room was a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind.

theo's footsteps echoed through the silence, each one a drumbeat of dread. your heart leaped as he descended the staircase, his eyes meeting yours. the weight of his gaze bore into you, carrying the burden of his confession. the space between you felt like a chasm that had suddenly opened, threatening to swallow the very air you breathed.

his usually confident stride was now tentative, as if the very stones of the common room might judge him. his eyes searched yours, looking for a glimmer of understanding or forgiveness, but all he found was a wall of cold, hard anger. the silence grew heavier with each step he took, until he was standing in front of you, his breath shallow and eyes pleading.

you felt the heat of betrayal burn in your chest, and your voice trembled as you spoke. "how could you?" the words were barely a whisper, but they filled the room like a shout. theo's face fell, his shoulders dropping with the weight of his own guilt. "i don't know," he murmured, his voice cracking. "it just…happened."

your anger grew, pulsing through your veins like molten lava. you shot to your feet, the chair scraping against the floor. "that's not good enough!" you yelled, your voice echoing off the stone walls. "you didn't just trip and fall into her arms!" you clenched your fists so tightly, your knuckles turned white.

his eyes searched the room, as if seeking an escape from the accusation in your gaze. "it was a mistake," he whispered, the desperation in his voice clawing at the edges of your heart. "i never meant to hurt you." but the words felt hollow, like a parchment torn in two.

you felt the rage building, a storm gathering strength. "you didn't just hurt me," you spat, the taste of bile rising in your throat. "you destroyed everything. my trust, my friendship…you shattered it all!" your voice grew louder, each syllable a shard of ice thrown at his chest. "what we had…it's gone. it's dead!"

theo took a step back, his eyes wide with fear. "please," he begged, reaching for you, but you slapped his hand away. "please, let me explain." his voice was raw, desperate.

you stepped closer to him, your eyes flashing with anger. "there's nothing to explain," you hissed. "you made a choice, and now you have to live with it." you turned away, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "i can't…i won't forgive you."

theo's hand hovered in the space where you had been, his eyes never leaving your back. "i know," he murmured, his voice a defeated whisper. "but i need you to understand. it was never about you. it was just…i don't know, a moment of weakness."

you scoffed, your voice thick with pain. "weakness? that's what you call it? that's a pathetic excuse, theo." you whipped around to face him, your eyes brimming with anger and hurt.

his expression crumpled, and he took a step forward, his hands outstretched. "i know," he said hoarsely. "i know it's not enough, but i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

you stared at him for a long moment, your eyes unblinking. the flames in the fireplace danced, casting an angry light on his face. "sorry doesn't cut it," you said finally, your voice cold as ice. "not this time."

his eyes searched yours, looking for a hint of the warmth that had once been there. "what can i do?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "anything. i'll do anything to make it right."

you took a deep breath, the scent of the fireplace mixing with the sharp tang of your own anger. "it's not about making it right," you said, your voice steely. "it's about fixing the mess you've made."

his eyes fell to the floor, and he nodded slowly. "i know," he murmured. "i just don't know how."

you looked away, the fire's warmth offering no comfort. "start by telling me why," you said, your voice tight. "why her? why now?"

theo swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. "it's complicated," he began, but you cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"don't you dare give me that," you snapped. "i've had enough of your complications. it's simple. you cheated."

just as the tension in the room reached a boiling point, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the volatile silence. mattheo and draco appeared at the bottom of the staircase, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern as they took in the scene before them. mattheo's eyes widened at the sight of theo's distress, while draco's gaze shifted between the two of you, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

"what's going on?" mattheo asked, his voice tentative.

you didn't even look at them, your eyes remained fixed on theo. "this is between us," you said, your voice tight with anger. "leave."

mattheo took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. "but-"

"i said leave!" you snapped, the words cutting through the air like a knife. "this doesn't concern you."

mattheo and draco exchanged a quick glance before reluctantly backing away, their footsteps retreating up the staircase. the moment they were out of earshot, the dam holding back your emotions shattered. tears streamed down your face, each one feeling like a piece of your soul breaking away. "how could you?" you choked out, your voice trembling with pain. "how could you do this to me?"

theo's eyes filled with despair as he watched you crumble. "i didn't mean for it to happen," he whispered, his voice thick with regret. "it just…it just did."

you wiped the tears away, your face a mask of anger. "you didn't mean for it to happen?" you echoed. "you didn't mean to kiss her? to touch her? to betray me?"

his head hung low, and he nodded, his voice barely a murmur. "i didn't. i swear. it just…it just happened. i didn't think about you. i didn't think about us."

you felt the anger coil tighter in your chest, your fists clenching at your sides. "that's the problem, theo," you said, each word punctuated with a searing pain. "you didn't think. you didn't care about the consequences. you didn't care about me."

his eyes snapped up to meet yours, filled with a desperation that only made your anger burn brighter. "i did care," he insisted, his voice a broken whisper. "i do care. you're everything to me."

but his words felt like ash in your mouth. "not enough," you spat, turning away from him. "not if you could so easily throw it all away for a fleeting moment with her." you stumbled out of the common room, your legs shaking with the effort to hold you upright.

as you made your way to the stairs, you collided with draco and mattheo, who were lingering awkwardly in the shadows. their expressions were a mix of shock and sympathy, and you knew they had heard every word. "move," you said through gritted teeth, pushing past them.

mattheo reached out to grab your arm, his eyes filled with concern. "are you okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with the same shock that mirrored your own feelings.

you yanked your arm away, the anger still burning in your eyes. "i'm fine," you lied, your voice shaking. "just…leave me alone."

you didn't wait for their response, you didn't want to see the pity in their eyes. you took the stairs two at a time, your heart racing as you reached the portrait hole leading to your dormitory. once inside, you slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the corridor like a gunshot. the portrait swung back into place, leaving you in the welcoming embrace of darkness.

edited 8.20.24

[cjlouwho]

prompt: silly or angry sex? idk!

how about silly and angry sex? also, I don't write smut often so please forgive me.

“I really, shit, really don't wanna fight with you while your, oh yeah, fingers are in my ass.”

“Finger,” Tommy corrected, slowly and deliberately massaging over Buck's prostate. “Just the one right now.”

“God, you’re so annoying,” Buck huffed, his back arching slightly as Tommy's other hand rested over his stomach.

“Would you like me to stop?” Tommy asked. The way he was keeping his voice so calm and casual made Buck want to wring his neck a little bit.

“Stop being annoying?” he replied. “Yes.”

“Stop fucking you,” Tommy clarified, pouring a bit more lube on his fingers and adding a second along with the first, “so you can fight with me?”

Buck sucked in a breath, then let out a long moan. “Oh fuck no, don't stop.”

“Mm,” Tommy hummed. He ran his hand up Buck's chest, dragging it back down slowly. His fingernails scraping over Buck's nipple on the way. “So fighting while fucking it is.”

“Fuck. S'not fair,” he said with a glare, fucking himself on Tommy's fingers. One of his hands flailed out until it found Tommy's thigh, gripping it for dear life. “Kiss me.”

Tommy shook his head. “Tell me why you're angry first, Evan.”

“Mmm,” Buck's head lolled to the side, his eyes drifting shut in pleasure. “Don't remember.”

Tommy twisted his fingers, driving in with a particularly hard thrust.

Buck's eyes shot back open and up at Tommy, his hand squeezing tighter on his thigh. Tommy would have bruises in the morning, which sent chills up his spine.

“Yes you do,” Tommy said, staring back at Buck. “Now why are you mad?”

“Be- Because, oh right there, because you forgot to take the meat out of the freezer again.”

“And?”

“And I reminded you, uh, uh, uh, you like five times while I was at work.” He smacked at Tommy's thigh. “Add another finger, Tommy, please.”

Tommy obliged. He removed his fingers and added more lube, warming it up before pressing three against Buck's hole. “Deep breath in and-”

“Let it out slow, yeah yeah, I know. Not my first rodeo.” He rolled his eyes but drew in a deep breath, slowly releasing it as Tommy worked three fingers into him. “You feel so fucking good,” he said, sounding more annoyed about that fact than anything. He couldn't handle it anymore. He reached up and pulled Tommy down over him in a messy, angry kiss. He bit down on Tommy's bottom lip, causing him to hiss ever so slightly. He took that opportunity to practically stick his tongue down Tommy's throat, tasting his fresh mint mouthwash that he always gargled after dinner.

A dinner which was take out tonight.

Because he forgot to take the meat out of the freezer.

For like the fourth time in a month.

Tommy's fingers were moving inside him earnestly now, Buck meeting every thrust. “I know you, mhm, apologized but I really, uh, don't understand, yes, yeah, how you could f- forget like that, faster, Tommy, fuck me.”

“You feel so good around my fingers, Evan, God.” Tommy moaned into Buck's mouth as Buck reached down and took both of their cocks in his hand.

Their bodies were at awkward angles, with Tommy not able to move as deeply into Buck with each thrust. But, judging by the sounds coming out of his mouth, Tommy was still hitting all the right spots.

“Fuck, I'm close, Evan.”

“Me too, Tommy. S- so close. Just, oh shit yeah!” Buck came with a shout, Tommy following closely behind him.

They laid there for a few seconds in silence, their sweaty bodies pressed together as they caught their breath.

Eventually, Tommy pulled his fingers out of Buck and plopped down beside him in the bed.

“Shit, I love angry sex,” Buck admitted, rolling over to press himself against Tommy's side.

Tommy laughed, his arm wrapping around Buck's back as he pressed a kiss to his temple. “Why do you think I keep forgetting to take the meat out of the freezer?”

“I knew you did it on purpose!” he exclaimed, leaning up just enough to look at Tommy.

“Well, after the aggressive blowjob you gave me the last time it happened, I had to test my theory. I do, however, promise not to use this knowledge against you in the future. No matter how tempting.”

Buck's eyes darkened as he pulled Tommy in for a kiss. “You're incredible,” he said. “You can use it against me anytime.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow at that and Buck continued. “Well, not any time. Like, if people are coming over for dinner, or if I have a special meal planned. Actually, I could make a detailed list of exact times where it would be appropriate to-”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“You know there are other things I could do besides not take food out of the freezer, right?”

“Like... Like what?” Buck asked, shivering a little as Tommy's hand ran up and down his spine.

“I could occasionally leave my laundry on the bathroom floor.”

“E- Even your gym clothes?”

“If you wanted.”

Buck could feel his heartbeat speeding up. He'd be a little concerned about what this literal dirty talk was doing to him if he didn't currently find it so damn hot. “What else?” he asked.

“I could not take out the trash on trash day. It'd have to sit there another whole week before it got picked up.”

Buck pressed a kiss against Tommy's jaw, then started working his way down, ghosting his lips over Tommy's pec. “I would be livid,” he said before giving the skin there a little bite.

“I know. I could forget to pay a bill. Make you deal with a late fee.”

Buck was on top of Tommy in a second, his thighs straddling Tommy's hips. He was mad at the mere thought of that happening. But so fucking turned on he was already hard again. It wasn't just the idea of more angry sex that made him horny, it was the fact that Tommy was so competent with his forced incompetence that Buck needed him inside of him immediately. It was all very confusing, and Buck made a mental note to dwell on it later.

But for now. “Tommy?”

“Yes, Dear?” Tommy asked with a grin, his hands coming to rest on Buck's waist.

“I'm gonna need you to fuck me.”

Tommy gripped Buck tight, flipping them over quickly so he was back on top. He pressed a chaste kiss to Buck's lips before reaching for the lube. “Yes, Dear.”

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

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Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

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Next Chapter: Chapter 2

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[moonlightdreamzz]

HEATED KISSES — Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungwon ♡

You know, those times where the kisses get heated…

Heeseung

It started at the arcade the two of you went to, per your begging, where Heeseung couldn't seem to let you go anywhere without him lingering on your backside and burying his nose in the nape of your neck. You knew something was on his mind, because he usually did a good job of keeping himself composed around you especially in public, but you couldn't tell if he had just missed you a lot, had a bad day, or both. Even on the way home was his large hand gripped on the inside of your thigh, rubbing gentles circles while he pressed gentle kisses on your forehead.

You wanted to look in his eyes so badly, but the way you had been pooling all day due to his constant affection towards you, you knew you could easily lose control and the two of you hadn't taken things to that level yet. Neither of you wanted to feel like a piece of meat, and both of you wanted the other to know how serious you were about each other.

"Can Y/N come inside for a bit, hyung?" Heeseung asks sweetly. He's trying so hard to contain himself and keep his voice light, but all he could think about was placing you against the nearest surface and connecting his lips to yours.

"Yeah, but keep it down. Be back in 20 minutes." His manager playfully presses his point finger to your head and shoves gently, causing you to giggle.

Heeseung walked inside first, removing all the garments he wore to protect his identity, and you did the same. You weren't sure if the other boys were out or asleep, but the dorm was extremely quiet, leaving the two of you with some privacy.

You followed your boyfriend to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, not knowing exactly what to do or say because all you could feel was your heartbeat pulsating, and not just in your chest. It was almost as if Heeseung could hear it too, judging by the way his eyes were piercing into you. It was odd how you could always read him. While you didn't know before, you definitely knew now that his lingering touches were because he felt the exact same way you did.

He didn't speak but slowly began to walk towards you until his slim figure towered over you. Your eyes refused to leave each other, and you could feel his shaky breath screaming for release.

"I'm sorry, baby. There's just something about you today... I can't control myself. But I'm really trying."

It was adorable how disappointed in himself he sounded. You placed your hands on the bottom of his shirt, causing his breath to hitch. As you began rubbing near the belt of his jeans, his lips connected to yours in a kiss more intense than you had ever shared before.

Heeseung's lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own.

A soft moan escaped his lips, a sound so beautiful it made your knees weak. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as his hands found their way under your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist. Every touch ignited a fire within you, making you crave more of him.

Heeseung's kisses trailed down your jawline to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured your name. The sensation was almost too much to bear, each kiss sending waves of pleasure through your body. You arched into him, your hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch.

His hips began to grind against yours, the friction driving you both to the brink of madness. You matched his pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, lost in the moment. It felt as if fireworks were exploding inside you, each spark fueled by his touch and his taste.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Heeseung's hands slipped inside your shorts, while yours found their way into his jeans. The sensation was electric, and you both gasped at the intensity of the connection. His lips captured yours again, the kiss more urgent, more desperate, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

His touch was driving you wild, and you felt as if you were about to explode from the sheer intensity of it all. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his phone began to ring.

He struggled to pull away from you, his breath ragged, his eyes filled with frustration. "It's been 20 minutes," he breathed out, still frazzled from your interaction. "I'm... I'm sorry, I know that we—"

You pressed a kiss to his lips once more, silencing him. "I love you, Heeseung. I'll text you when I get home."

Jake

“Do I look good? Hmm?” you asked, your voice tinged with playful curiosity. You can’t help but notice the intense way Jake is eyeing you, a dangerous glint in his gaze. He leans against the doorframe of the dressing room, arms crossed, as you try on the dresses he had meticulously picked out for you. Each outfit seems to draw his attention more, his eyes roaming over every detail, making your heart race.

He chuckles, and it warms your body that’s revealing itself little by little as you take off the last dress you were trying on in this store. “Good as hell, love.” He utters in a low voice, his aussie accent thick.

“Yeah?” You tease.

“Yeah.” He affirms.

You grab your jeans and attempt to put them on, until you feel Jake's cold fingertips stop you in your tracks. He steps closer, his breath hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the tension building between you, an electric charge in the air that's impossible to ignore.

"Jake..." you whisper, but your words are cut off as his lips crash into yours, urgent and demanding. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

Your hands tangle in his hair, and you can feel his heart beating just as fast as yours.

The world outside the dressing room fades away as his lips move against yours, the kiss growing more heated by the second. His touch is everywhere, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You break apart just long enough to catch your breath, foreheads pressed together, the air thick with desire.

"Control yourself." you murmur, a teasing smile on your lips.

Jake's eyes darken with a smoldering intensity as he leans in for another kiss, his answer clear in the way he devours your lips with renewed passion.

“You make it impossible, being all sexy and shit like that.”

Sunghoon

"So you're telling me you don't see that?" Niki whispers to you quietly, a sly smirk on his face.

The "that" he was referring to was Sunghoon allegedly staring at you from across the room, with what Niki described as a look that could best be described as "pure hatred" towards your playful interaction. The moment you turn around to look at Sunghoon, because you never were the type to back down from him, you think he's going to turn away in shame, but he doesn't. He holds your gaze, unflinching.

"Go ahead and lie. Say you don't see it," Niki emphasizes. This snaps you out of your trance, causing you to whip your head back to him.

"Sunghoon could care less about me and what I'm doing," you utter. "Sometimes I wonder if he even likes me."

You don't mean it. You don't think? He could just be too... cool when it came to you sometimes. So much so that you had to double-check with the members to see if he even liked you for real. You weren't flirting with Niki by any means, but you'd be lying if you said Sunghoon's seemingly angry glare didn’t make you feel…good.

"Uh oh," Niki mutters, swiftly walking away from you.

Before you can even turn to see why he pulled a disappearing act on you, you feel Sunghoon's hand grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling you down the hall to the bathroom. He shuts the door swiftly before backing you into it, his eyes burning with intensity.

Without a word, he presses his lips to yours in a jealous rage. The kiss is fierce, filled with a possessiveness you've never felt from him before. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the raw emotion in his touch.

"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp between kisses, but he silences you with another searing kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that takes your breath away.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his voice low and rough. "I care more than you think. And I don't want to see you with anyone else." He breathes out. “So stop.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as his words sink in. You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, and pull him back down for another kiss, this one softer but no less intense. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he's afraid to let go.

In that moment, all your doubts and insecurities melt away, leaving only the heat of the kiss and the undeniable truth of Sunghoon's feelings for you.

Jungwon

You and Jungwon's drunken giggles filled your apartment as you both struggled to stay upright, stumbling and swaying with each step.

"How did we let this happen?" he wheezes, collapsing to the ground just as you did a few seconds ago-the cause of your seemingly unstoppable laughter in the first place.

"I give up," you sigh, letting yourself drop beside him, nuzzling into the side of his neck. His body melts into yours instantly, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

Your eyes are mere inches apart, and his dimple appears, his eyes conveying his love for you without needing to speak a word.

Both of you had always been so shy with each other, but the alcohol in your systems had dissolved those barriers.

"I want to kiss you," he utters softly, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a surge of affection. You tilt your head slightly, and as your lips meet his, what starts as a tender, hesitant kiss quickly ignites into something more intense. The world around you fades away as the kiss deepens, a spark of electricity passing between you.

His hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before sliding into your hair. Your own hands find their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your touch. His lips press harder against yours, parting slightly to invite a deeper connection. You respond eagerly, your tongues meeting in a passionate dance that sends waves of heat through your body.

Jungwon's other hand slides down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there's no space left between you. You can feel the warmth of his body against yours, and the sensation is intoxicating. Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, committing every detail to memory as the kiss continues, each moment more fervent than the last.

When you finally pull away to catch your breath, his eyes remain locked on yours, dark and filled with desire. His forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, the air charged with the intensity of the moment.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice husky and filled with emotion.

"I love you too," you reply, your heart swelling with the undeniable truth of your feelings.

In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your laughter and the warmth of each other's embrace, you realize that this love, so long unspoken, has finally found its voice in the most beautiful way.

[machveil]

POOKIE!! hear me out a fic for an extremely sub!ghost like to the point where he's on his hands and knees literally sobbing his heart out because he wants to eat you out and you're denying him because you're just enjoying watching him beg but eventually you give in

(I'm ovulating don't judge me im not usually this cruel 😭)

pookie… I see and hear you, I feel you in my bones we’re jumping straight in

CW: Fem!Reader, Sub!Ghost, weepy Simon Riley to soothe the soul… and other things, clothed humping, oral (fem!receiving)

tactical gear still fastened and balaclava tugged up just over his nose, the sight before you has your thighs pressed together as you sit on the edge of his bed. Ghost, in all his glory, sitting at your feet - tears wetting his eyelashes and balaclava as he looks up at you. he’s still large even when he’s kneeling, but the way he’s behaving makes him look so small

the last deployment he had been on, one where you stayed back at base, had taken such a toll on him. all in one piece, but exhausted and sore. he was admittedly gross right now, sweaty and gear dirty from field work, but god— as soon as he had guided you to his room he all but fell to his knees for you. “Please, jus’ wanna taste you sweet’art.”, strained, voice ragged and gravelly from giving out constant streams of orders. pitiful, deep brown eyes gazing at you as he tugged his mask up

something about the way he looked made a spark flicker to life in your chest, heat pooling in your gut. Ghost is never like this, your Ghost would never be like this - let alone on base. your Simon Riley? that’s what makes this all too familiar, the way he’s looking up at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. that’s saved for the comfort of your home, your shared flat back in Manchester. to see him like this? a needy, desperate man crawling towards you, resting his chin on your lap? who could blame you for wanting to see a little more?

it almost makes you feel bad when a choked sob leaves his lips - you had let him slip your slacks off, pooled around your boots. your boots, maybe that was why Ghost’s eyebrows were screwed together as he sloppily mouthed at your thighs. “You can— just need you to cum for me first, Ghost.”, maybe that request was too cruel for him, you knew him too well. the sight of him grinding his painfully hard bulge against your boot, spit and drool slicking your thighs as he cried against your lap. you know he can’t, not like this. Ghost— Simon’s too used to you helping him

he can’t cum, not without you - your hand, your mouth, anything you’re willing to give him, even if it’s just his mouth pleasing you. skin on skin contact, it’s nothing compared to grinding on your boot or using his hand. his sclera are tinted red at the edges, salty tears mixing with his spit as he sucks at your thighs, anything to keep his mouth occupied as his hips buck against your shoe. five minutes, five minutes too long when Simon looks up at you. scarred lips smeared with his own saliva, a broken little hiccup followed by a shoulder shaking sob leaves him, “Missed you— please, please, lemme make you feel good, lovie, m’sorry.”

he nearly breaks down when you shift to tug your underwear down, shaky hands coming up to rest on your knees. before you can even finish saying ‘okay’ Simon is parting your legs, slotting himself between your plush thighs. sloppy, a man starved of affection and your cunt for weeks. it would have tugged at your heartstrings if you were paying attention to him, head lolled back as he desperately sucks on your clit. if you had been paying attention you would have caught his sobs, your poor Simon, crying against your cunt. as good as you feel, Simon’s already gone, underwear soaked through as soon as he had his mouth on you

[bloody-cupcakes]

okay but perv! chuck shotgunning smoke into your mouth👀

A/N: anon get out of my head I love this

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, nsfw/smut, perv! Chuck, dom/sub dynamics (dom Chuck/sub reader), underage smoking (weed), shotgunning, thigh grinding/riding, masturbation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Open wide, baby," Chuck cooed in a deceptively sweet voice, acting as if he didn't have you currently straddling his lap while he smoked a joint between classes.

You obliged, allowing him to grab your face with one hand and pull you in closer as he used the other to bring the joint to his mouth. He inhaled deeply before moving his lips close to yours, parting them so he could blow the smoke towards you.

It was hard for him not to smirk at the way you coughed and sputtered immediately once breathing in the smoke. Clearly this was you first time. "Easy, baby. You alright?"

Still coughing, you nodded your head in response, not wanting him to think you were lame for not being able to hold your smoke properly. He sighed and shifted so that you were sitting more pressed against him in his lap.

"Deep breaths, baby. There you go."

You hid your face in his shoulder, feeling embarrassed. He always thought you looked so cute like that, all flustered. It made you even easier to tease.

"D'you wanna try again, hm?" He asked in a softer voice, which you shook your head at. His jaw clenched as he carefully tapped the ash off his joint. Part of him wanted to force you to take the smoke he was giving to you, but he also knew if he did too much all at once you'd get spooked, and he couldn't have that.

Instead, he merely sighed, his arm moving to wrap around your waist as he took another drag. "Suit yourself."

He knew you wouldn't be able to last very long without wanting to try again, and he was right. The moment he saw you pull your face away from his shoulder and hesitantly peek up at him he knew he had you.

"Can I try again?" You asked in a soft, tentative voice. He found your timid way of speaking and your awkward demeanor to be absolutely insatiable. It made him want you even more.

"Of course." One hand of his went back up to your face, holding your chin in a firm but gentle grasp as he inhaled the smoke before carefully blowing it into your open mouth.

You didn't cough nearly as much this time, and he could tell the weed was already starting to have an effect on you judging from the way your eyes were starting to tint a reddish color. This didn't surprise him much considering A) this was your first time smoking weed and B) the amount he shotgunned you was a pretty big hit. He'd done that on purpose, of course, though he'd obviously lie about it if ever asked.

"What do you think?" He questioned in an uncharacteristically soft voice, his thumb rubbing your chin as he continued to hold your face still.

"Tastes- tastes grassy," you lightly complained before letting out a small cough, which only made him laugh.

"That's the whole point, baby. It's supposed to taste like that. It's not about the taste, it's about the effects after," he said while moving his hand to brush over the top of your head in an affectionate gesture.

You hummed softly in agreement while leaning your head into his touch. The effects of the weed didn't take very long to kick in at all, and for you that meant you were getting hornier a lot more easily than usual.

"Chuck..." came out your soft whine as you began to roll your hips against him, unable to stop yourself. "Need you..."

"I'm sorry, baby, what was that? You'll have to speak up," he said in a slightly mocking tone, his hand moving down to grip onto your hipbone, effectively stopping your movements in their tracks.

A frustrated whine escaped from you at that, causing him to smirk. "N- Need you... Need you so badly..." Your voice was just barely louder than before, but that seemed to be enough for him.

After finishing the joint, he turned to give you his full attention, helping to maneuver you some so that you were now straddling his thigh instead. "There we go, baby. Better?"

Your response came in the form of you rolling your hips forward yet again, your movements eager and frantic as you grinded your throbbing sex down onto his thigh, the friction from the fabric of your pants causing you to whimper loudly and your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

Keeping one hand on your hip, he used to other to palm at his hard cock through the front of his pants, letting out a low groan. "Christ, baby, if I'd have known you were going to be doing all of this I'd have gotten you high ages ago."

His words didn't even register in your brain, your sole focus being on reaching your high and sweet, sweet release as quickly as possible. Shaky pants and moans were the only things that could be heard coming from you, along with the occasional whimper.

Relishing in the sight before him, Chuck leaned back in his seat and watched you, his own hips jolting up every now and then as he continued to grope at his clothed cock. It would've been so much easier just to pull it out and jerk himself off, but he was worried if he did too much too soon then you'd suddenly snap out of whatever sort of weed-and-lust induced haze you were in and leave.

"That's it, baby... Get yourself off on my thigh, good job..." He coaxed in a low voice, mesmerized as he kept his eyes trained on your movements. You were so desperate, but you still looked absolutely adorable, almost reminding him of a little puppy.

Your whimpers grew louder and more frequent the closer and closer you got to the edge, your hands clawing at his jacket for some sort of grounding agent. Stars spotted across your vision as you finally reached your peak, your back arching as your grinding stuttered.

His eyes were wide and dilated with lust, a quiet swear escaping him as he came in his pants just a moment or so later. You were too dazed to even realize what was going on, still clinging him to like earlier only now you were nuzzling your face against his neck while you pressed light kisses there.

"That felt so good..." You admitted in a shy mutter, causing his hand to tighten around your hip as he tugged you in closer.

"Good, baby. I'm glad." If this was going to be the outcome every time you got high, he was going to have to get you to do it far more often.

[wwinterwitch]

cowboy like me — coriolanus snow

summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything

notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao

i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.

masterlists | read on ao3

A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.

He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own good— the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.

Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.

You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.

Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.

In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.

But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.

Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.

And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?

Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always craved— undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.

You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.

Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?

No, the past is gone. It already happened. There’s no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.

He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.

Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands you— understands you like no one else has in your entire life.

It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.

If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.

It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...

Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.

He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?

The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because he’s a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s good, and brave, and passionate…enough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.

"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"

He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away. 

"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?

In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.

The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.

When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do? 

A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.

You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.

After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?

But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive. 

With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew he’d be the guy you’d spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the world— he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.

The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.

He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.

There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracy— a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken ‘thank you’ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.

He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Hi Lovely, just dropping by to say that you can totally decline weigh ins if not extremely necessary. You're a fantastic writer, you've got excellent music taste and clearly are funny at hell. Plus you can probably lift every twat nurse who tuts and scoffs at you, they shouldn't every judge you.

If you're up for it, I'd die for some NikPrice in a proper sex shop (Not a gag/gimmick one) or maybe a lil NikPrice who want to bring in a certain delightfully sassy sergeant to their dynamic.

Head up, we are all here to support you!

😊

Thank you for this, Selkie. It was a massive boost going in. So, Nikprice in a sex shop, eh? Well, obviously I had to visit Prowler to, uh, check it still looks the same as the last time I visited. Here we go...

Nik and John visit ProwlerRED in Soho as Nik helps John take those first tentative steps in exploring his sexuality.

cw: fetishwear, inexperienced and nervous sub, teasing Nikolai.

Price stood opposite the shop and stared at the giant white paw on the black banner between the ground and first floor, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, his beanie pulled low around his ears to disguise the hot flush colouring them a deep red.

They stood at the crossroads. Passersby dipped into the gutter to get around them on their way down Old Compton Street and Price stepped back a little further as a cyclist hopped the pavement, swerving a stationary taxi that was blocked from turning into Dean Street. Price's eyes would make it to the window eventually, but first he needed to get over the road.

"We should go in," Nik said, exhaling the last breath of cigarette smoke as he ground it out under his boot. This had been his idea. He had spotted Price eyeing up some of the leathermen at the bar the previous evening, and teased his interest out of him under the duvet of their exorbitantly expensive hotel bed. It was hard to keep secrets from Nik when his hands and mouth were on ya... Some kinda witchcraft.

Price knew what leathermen were. It was impossible not to when your old man had been both a sergeant in the armed forces and a keen biker. It was a joining of the two things together; the latent homoeroticism of a career and a hobby that had been, at the time, completely male dominated. His old man had been predictably foul in his judgements of his fellow soldiers, but Price had been fascinated. He'd avoided looking too deeply at why he found them so--

Price was... he was interested, alright? Something about the way that the leather looked on a man's body; the harnesses, the jackets, the jock straps. He didn't much care for the caps or the police shirts. If he wanted to wear a cap, he'd give in to Mac's relentless naggin' and get promoted, you know, wear a cap that came with a bloody salary increase, and Peelers weren't exactly high in his esteem.

It was the smell and the texture of the leather against sweat, the slide of it across hard and soft curves as leashes and harnesses shifted, the sound of belts snapping together, watching the dominant partner haul their willing subordinate around and the responding trust. The relief and pleasure on faces that weren't covered by masks, moans muffled by gags. That looked good. Real good.

Imagining Nik's hand wound through a--

Price swallowed.

"John?"

"Hold up, I'm gettin' there. Don't rush me." Price bristled, shoulders rising up around his ears. He didn't even need to look at Nik to know what his face was doin'; Price could feel his grin like atmospheric pressure and it rankled him. "This ain't funny, Nik."

"It is funny," Nik said, arms folded across his big chest, open palm tapping his own elbow. "This is not live fire fight or hostage situation. You need to relax."

"I'm perfectly relaxed," Price said, immediately dropping his shoulders and sniffing when Nik raised his eyebrow. He bounced on his toes and coughed, aiming for nonchalant, but knew his eyes were wider than a rabbit's gazing into oncoming headlights. "See, fine."

"It is just a shop."

"I can see that."

"The owner is half your size."

"Oh yeah? You well acquainted?"

"Fairly."

"Course y'are." Price's cheeks reddened and he scrubbed a hand through his beard. "Alright. Ground rules. Nothin' that's sharp or... Let's just stick to the harness."

Nik hummed and started crossing the road. Price tried to grab his arm to get at least some verbal agreement, but Nik had already skipped up the opposite curb and was looking through the window. Price waited for a black cab to pass and then jogged over to stand at his side. He could see himself in the reflection of the window, hunkered low. "Is that a leather pig mask?"

"Da," Nik said, examining a full body harness with a metal cock ring at the groin. Price hazarded a glance at what had Nik so interested and his heart skipped a beat, his fingers curling into fists inside his pockets . Nik tapped his elbow. "Come." Price let Nik take his elbow and drag him through the door on the corner of the building, his breath held for... fuck knows what reason.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The same smell as the bar the evening before, except without the added layer of sweat that had made his mouth water. It was sharp, clean. Behind the mannequins in the window were two railings of leather harnesses, and along the walls were racks of leather shirts and trousers. Fairly... innocuous, really. It could have been a biker's shop if it had helmets instead of masks, and less lube on the shelves.

"Hey," called a faintly accented voice from behind the counter, Price would guess Polish but Nik would get a better read. "Let me know if you need anything." She had enough metal in her mouth that kissing her would risk a stab wound, and Price found himself counting the studs when Nik cleared his throat.

"Da, thank you, we may need help with sizing."

She shrugged. "The best thing to do is try 'em on. There's a changing room round the corner," she jutted her thumb over her shoulder, "and two downstairs with the toys and bondage. Just no underwear, yeah?" With that, she turned back to untangling the pile of leather paraphernalia and hangers on the counter.

Nik seemed distracted by something on the far wall, so Price took the opportunity to examine the shelves behind the shop assistant. Aromas. A fair number of them, in fact. Price had seen a few of the lads holding them at the bar, but googling "aroma" and "disk cleaner" had yielded completely innocuous Amazon searches.

"You will not need those, solnyshko," Nik called, so Price continued to tentatively explore, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

His gaze wandered to a pile of flyers at the edge of the counter. "Boot blacking," Price murmured. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Da," Nik said softly, appearing at his shoulder with two harnesses in his hand. "It is a kink, but also good for repairing tired equipment."

"Fuckin 'ell, gettin' the troopers to buff their boots proper is like pullin' teeth, and these lot do it for jollies? Is he... Is he lickin' it?"

Nik chuckled and took the flyer out of Price's hand, stroking a finger over the bristles on Price's chin before twining their fingers together. "Perhaps if you put on a jock strap and licked their boots they might be more, hmm, proactive, no?"

"I'll run it by brass," Price said with a wry smirk, letting Nik pull him down the narrow staircase to the basement level.

His eyes blew wide once they'd adjusted to the dim lighting. Now that was what he had actually expected when Nik had said "fetish shop". The walls were crammed with an assortment of delightful looking torture devices from whips to gags to masks that covered everything but the mouth. There was a rack of staggeringly big silicone cocks, and Price felt the heat creeping back up his neck again at how bloody real some of them looked. And big. So fuckin' big.

He was so out of his bloody depth here.

The display case to the right of the stairs as they reached the bottom was filled with the weirdest collection of dildos he had ever seen in his life. He stooped down, hands on his knees, and peered inside. "Fuck me, that one's thicker than my thigh. Nik, there's no... Nik, come here. There's no way that fits. What the fuck is that meant to be?" He pressed his fingertip to the glass at what looked like a tentacle with little nodules all over it.

"John, here." Nik beckoned him over and Price sidled over to stand at his side, casting one final alarmed look into the display case. On the wall, there was an array of cuffs and collars, all with slightly different fastenings, studs and coloured linings. Nik took one of Price's hands and placed it on the nearest pair of cuffs, pressing against Price's back, his chin on his shoulder, palm on his belly to keep him close. "Choose."

"I thought we said just the harness..." Price murmured, but he could barely hear the words leave his own mouth, too fixated on the feel and smell of expensive leather. His toes curled in his boots as he pressed his fingers inside the circle of a cuff, slipping out the other side to nudge one of the metal links and stroke around the smooth edge of the buckle.

These weren't the laughably flimsy handcuffs Price had used previously in his, admittedly, limited sex life. The kind where the plastic broke through the cheap fur and cut your skin if you pulled too hard. Tokenisitic in their restraint. These were sturdy, unyielding; they would be completely unbreakable, even by a body like his. The thought of Nik securing Price's wrists to the headboard, working his hands down his body, made Price's damn prick twitch.

Nik nuzzled the side of his neck, bringing him back to the present, and he picked up a solid black pair like the ones he had seen on a man last night. They had a single silver loop each and a thick buckle. The leather was stiff, clean and unblemished, and Price flexed them a little in his palms. "Uh, these." His reward was a soft kiss just beneath his ear, and Nik reached a little higher to pluck the matching collar from the top row of hooks.

"Try them on, with your shirt off," Nik said. "I will wait here. Take your time." He placed the harness in Price's hands and nudged him towards the narrow changing cubicle. Price hesitated, glancing back up at the stairs and then into the shop proper. Nik placed a palm at the small of his back and pressed his nose to the side of Price's face. "It is fine. I will not allow anyone to see."

"Right, yeah..." Price ducked beneath a silk sash hanging from the railing as Nik nudged him forward. He figured if people were down here looking for a birch to take stripes out of them, seeing some battered old soldier in a leather harness wouldn't faze them too much. And that's what he told himself as he yanked the curtain across and shucked his shirt over his head.

The harness seemed to have more buckles than entirely necessary at first inspection, and he turned it over and over in his hands, checking the model on the label to work out how it should sit. It was sturdy, with silver studs and thick metal, and he felt that same throb of arousal as he handled it.

"John, is ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine, jus'... workin' it out."

In the end, Price pulled open one of the side buckles and ducked into it. The leather was chill on his skin and his nipples pulled tight as he sat the straps just above them. Once he'd fastened the buckle back in place, he glanced into the mirror through his eyebrows, hesitant.

The yellowing bruise on his ribs from the last op was beginning to fade, the scrapes all but healed into thin pink lines, and he had the usual litany of scars he was used to seeing by now.

He looked... good.

It sat well around his shoulders, framing the furred curves of his chest by sitting just above the line of his nipples, the silver d-ring between his tits. The straps beneath his arms sat just above his obliques, following the line of muscle comfortably.

Fuck, it made him look... made him look broad, strong, with his jeans belted at his narrow hips, his operation-ready athletic physique well-complemented, and he stood up a little straighter, jutting his chin. He'd expected to feel like a dog, maybe a bit demeaned, but when he flexed into the leather, heard the stiff straps creak a bit, he felt fuckin' powerful.

Next were the cuffs. He wrapped them around each wrist, turning them around until the silver rings sat on the top and the buckles beneath. The lining was slightly padded, lending to a snug fit.

"How does it feel?" Nik asked, close to the curtain.

"Yeah, s'nice. Like, uh, it fits well."

Price grabbed the collar and then pushed the curtain aside a bit, his eyes fixed on the floor as he felt the heat creeping up his neck again. He heard Nik's breath catch and then a soft curse whispered in awestruck Russian.

"Not bad, right?" Price asked, trying for cocksure but coming out shy.

Nik said nothing. He took the collar from Price's hand and wrapped it carefully around his neck, using his forefinger to stop the leather biting as he threaded the strap through. The moment it pulled tight enough for Price to feel it, he let out a soft gasp, his hands lifting to latch onto Nik's wrist, a sudden panic beating a little harder in his chest.

"Easy, solnyshko," Nik said gently, leaning in to kiss him. Price's grip relaxed, and he drew in a shaky breath. Nik took his hands. "Here, let me show you how it would feel with your wrists secure. If you feel unsafe, you must tell me, da?"

"Is... Is anyone down here?"

"Nyet. We are alone."

"Ye-yeah, right... Yeah." Price swallowed as Nik moved his arms behind his back, lifting each wrist until he could attach the cuffs to the d-ring at the back of the harness. When Nik was done, he stepped back, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the shop as he appraised the man before him.

"Krasivyy..." Nik said, reaching to lift Price's chin from where it was tilted down. John kept his head up as Nik's hands roamed his body, following the line of the leather straps over his clavicles to his upper chest, leaving goosebumps of pleasure in his wake.

Price watched Nik's eyes darken with desire and felt like the hottest piece of arse this side of the Thames; he flexed cheekily into the straps and Nik's lips twitched. The control in this wasn't so clear cut, was it? Price had assumed he'd be the one under the boot, but watching Nik's reaction made it clear he had more power than he'd assumed. Nik was enraptured, his arousal clear in the heated caress of his palms and fingers.

Price wanted to lean into his hands, arch like a damn cat. His stomach pulled tight as Nik stroked just above his nipples, following the line of the harness beneath his arms and making him flex and shiver. It was too much, too sensitive, and he let out a soft, strangled noise, squirming as heat gathered in his hips. He couldn't stop Nik from touching him, couldn't push his hands away, and that made his blood run south, hot and urgent. "Mm, Nik... Please... I..."

"You are... breath taking like this," Nik said, lifting a hand to hook the collar and draw Price to him. The experience of being drawn to Nik's chest like that, having to trust those strong arms would catch him, made Price groan softly. He buried his face into Nik's neck, arching only when Nik's hands swept down his back, gently stroking the burn scars at the base before dropping lower to squeeze his arse. "If I could, I would have you here."

"Fuck," Price breathed, grinding forward to feel the hard line of Nik's cock. "Guess we're buyin' this then..."

"Da, and one or two other things."

"Nik."

"Nothing sharp. Nothing to hurt you, John. I promise."

"You could never hurt me." Price had never been so certain of anything in his life.

Nik took the back of the harness and pulled Price away from him, lifting his chin so their eyes met. "This is important. So listen," Nik said. "Sometimes hurt is not physical pain in this. It can be feeling unsafe, it can be feeling too overwhelmed. I may push too far, and you must be honest with me."

Nik looked so serious and Price could only nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. Fuck, Nik cared about him so fuckin' much and it made Price's heart feel all kinds of warm. "So, what... We, uh, we need safe words and the like?" He flashed a lopsided grin and Nik kissed him on the forehead with a low chuckle.

"Da. We will discuss. Now, get dressed. I wish to get you back to the hotel."

"Yes, sir."

"John..."

"Sorry, couldn't help it."

"If you wish to call me sir in our bedroom, then I would not be opposed."

"Bet you fuckin' wouldn't..."

"I see you are going to be, what to say... a brat." Nik swatted Price's arse before he undid the cuffs from the back of the harness and drew the curtain across.

Price almost felt sad about taking the harness off, savouring the phantom sensation of it on his skin even when he pulled his t-shirt and coat back on. He lingered in the cubicle, squeezing his prick through his jeans with a grimace, and only re-emerged once it had calmed enough to be bloody discreet.

Nik was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He was holding a coil of rope, a leash and what looked to be an anal toy of some kind. "It is remote control," Nik said with a roguish little smirk when he saw Price looking, before jogging up the stairs.

"Bloody 'ell," Price breathed, following behind him.

Nik flashed the plastic and purchased the lot, despite Price fumbling through his coat for his wallet. "This is treat for me," Nik said when Price glared at him, plucking the opaque black bags from the counter.

"'M worried what I've unleashed here," Price replied once Nik had thanked the assistant and they were heading for the door.

"Ah, I believe it is I that have leashed you, no?"

"Ha-fucking-ha, corny bastard."

Nik grabbed John's hand and looked far too proud of himself, his smile so bright and handsome that Price's heart felt light. He didn't let go of Price's hand as they strolled back towards the station, and Price felt his heart swell as he glanced down at their intertwined fingers, his lower lip between his teeth.

Today was a day of firsts: his first visit to a bloody sex shop, and the first time in his life he had ever held a lover's hand, head up, chest out, as he walked down the street. When in London, eh?

[dumbslvtforethan]

♾ A HANDFUL PILLS, NO CHASERS ethan landry

— summary: you and ethan get horny- ops! i meant high sorry

warnings smut, degrading kink, use of drugs, dom!ethan, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything! 1,046 words

navigate ! taglist

𐙚 mdni!! ↓↓ 𐙚༘⋆ೀೀ

ETHAN PASSES YOU THE JOINT, his eyes dark as he watches you inhale. You hold it in for a few seconds before slowly exhaling, your head spinning with a pleasant buzz. You feel his hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up towards the apex of your legs. "Mmm, this is some good shit," Ethan chuckles, leaning back against the couch. His hand is still on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing circles over the fabric of your shorts. "I never knew you were such a pothead," he teases, taking another drag. "Hey, don't judge me," you retort, swiping the joint from his fingers and taking another hit. "You love it when I'm relaxed and mellow like this."

You nudge him playfully and exhale a cloud of smoke. "I'm a fun pothead. Ethan's eyes sparkle with mischief as he grins at you. "Oh, I think you're a fun pothead when you're horny too," he murmurs, his hand sliding up to cup your sex over your shorts. "Remember that time we got high and fucked for hours in my room?" He gives your clothed sex a firm squeeze, making you gasp and squirm. "I think it's time for a repeat performance," he says, his voice low and husky with desire. "You're so fucking wet already. I can feel it through these thin little shorts." "I've been thinking about it ever since you texted me with that little baggy," you reply with a grin, biting your lip as his hand continues to tease and rub.

"Let's get back to those days of fuck-ton of stamina." "You're so goddamn cheeky when you're high," Ethan laughs, pulling you onto his lap and pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You can taste the weed on his tongue and it makes your head spin, making you moan softly as he starts grinding up against you. "Fuck, your tits are so perky and perfect," Ethan slurs, his hands groping at your breasts through your top. "Gonna suck 'em so hard, make your nipples all hard and shit." He licks his lips, his pupils dilated and unfocused. "I love how high you get, makes your thoughts so much dirtier," you giggle, running your hand down his chest to the bulge in his pants. "Shit, look at this big ass dick," you say, staring at it with wide eyes. "Let me suck it though, gotta taste that dick," you blurt out, already reaching for his zipper. Your high thoughts mix together in a hazy bliss as he pulls out his throbbing cock, already slick with precum.

"Look at that fucking thing," "Fuck, it's so big and perfect for me to ride," you say, leaning down to take him in your mouth. Ethan groans loudly, his fingers running through your hair as you deepthroat him. "You're so fucking good at that, damn," Ethan's hand grips your hair tightly, forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. "You're nothing but a fucking cock slut, aren't you?" he growls, spit and precum dripping down your chin. "Such a desperate whore for dick.""Yeah, that's right baby, take my whole cock in your mouth. You're nothing but a little fuck toy for me to use," Ethan grunts as he face fucks you with an intensity fueled by the drugs.

"Suck that fucking dick, slut.” You eagerly suck on Ethan's cock, feeling it twitch and throb as you deepthroat him. The drugs have made his ego soar and he starts to fuck your face roughly, his hands tightly gripping onto your hair. "Ethan blurts out a string of degrading comments as he continues to brutally fuck your face, each word filled with a mix of lust and contempt. "You're a fucking cum dumpster, a worthless little cock whore. I bet you'd even suck my dick raw if I told you to.” Ethan's body tenses up as he reaches his climax, his rough thrusts becoming even more erratic before he finally explodes in your mouth. "That's right, swallow every fucking drop of my cum," he commands as you eagerly swallow everything he has to offer. As the high from the drugs continues to consume him, Ethan's dominant and lustful personality takes over completely. He throws you down onto the bed, his eyes filled with hunger as he starts to strip off his clothes and yours. "You're mine now, slut.” "Fuck me, Ethan. I want your cock inside every hole I've got. I'm just a dirty fucking slut who wants to be used by you. Use me.”

@dumbslvtforethan on tumblr

a/n: this is the most degrading fucking shit ive ever written

taglist ♡ @snkling @esnypetal @pincheputaaa

@notoakay @generousobjectwinner @chqrryw4ves @softcore8

[luna0713hunter]

I'd die for you

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.

Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."

You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.

"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"

"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"

You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"

"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."

The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."

You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.

"I'm going!!"

"Good luck with him!"

You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.

It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.

As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.

"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."

"Zoro,its me."

When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.

"...come in."

You take another breath as you finally open the door.

Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.

"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."

Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying

"its not poisoned,is it?"

"i was cooking,what do you think?"

Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily

"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"

"i didnt even say anything."

"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."

You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.

"...give it here."

You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.

"And why would i?"

"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."

And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.

"was that pause really necessary?"

"just give me the damn bowl."

You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.

You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.

"so?how is it?"

Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.

"it's the best soup I've ever had."

There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.

Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.

At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.

"hey,hey. why are you crying?"

You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.

"i almost lost you Zoro..."

"but I'm-"

"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"

When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.

"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."

He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.

Alive and safe

"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."

At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"

"really."

And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.

"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."

[natailiatulls07]

Pen Pals

Oscar Piastri x Female!Reader

Summary - Strangers to pen pals to lovers

Warning - Cuteness overload!

Reader works in redbull as a media girl

-

Hi there,

I'm Y/n and I'm excited to write you! I've had a few pen pals in the past but none have really worked out.

But I digress, maybe we should start by introducing each other with a few fun facts; I love formula one! I am and will always be a cat person, having two cats of my own and my favourite past time would have to be finding and trying new recipes which either works or becomes a disaster, there's no inbetween!

I look forward to hearing about you and hopefully we'll get on well with eachother!

Yours truly,

Y/n

-

Dear Y/n,

It's lovely to meet you! This is my first time so go easy on me! I loved reading your letter and found it quite ironic as I am also a big fan of formula one.

A few facts about me is that my favourite film is 'ten things I hate about you' even though my friends always tease me for it. My favourite formula one driver would have to Oscar Piastri, next best rookie since Hamilton in my opinion.

Who's your favourite driver? And which team do you support??

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

What a coincidence! I would definitely agree that Oscar Piastri is a great driver, espercially after winning a sprint in his rookie year! But however, I am a Max Verstappen girl through and through so that also means I'm a redbull supporter as well. But I have respect for each and every other driver and team!

I don't see how your friends can tease you about your favourite film, it is a iconic late 90s film with a stunning cast! See picking a favourite film for me is hard! There's too many to pick from like paddington or pretty woman or even oceans eight!

So what gotten you into starting to write pen pal letters??

Yours truly,

Y/n

-

Hi Y/n,

Yeah with my job I find that alot of the people I talk to are very fake and greedy. I felt as those if I just starting writing letters to someone I could keep an anonymous identity. I hope you'll respect that, I'm sure you will!

Don't get me wrong I love my job, it's something I worked my whole life for. But it feels some what suffocating sometimes.

What about you? You said that you've had pen pals in the past but none have really worked out. I can't see why though, you seem lovely and have a great taste in sport!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

Understandable. I promise to remain respectful and I won't pry. I think a pen pal is the perfect way to step away from our lifestyles, it gives us someone that won't judge and you can realise to them.

I started writing to pen pal when I started college. I moved away from all my friends and had a rocky break up with my boyfriend at the time.

So from then I tried to find the best pen pal. But believe it or not, not many people start a pen pal to talk to others and hear others but to just talk about themselves.

A pen pal relationship should be equal and not one sided so often those relationship will have lasted just under two months. But lets not dwell on the past.

Wait important question now! What is your zodiac sign?? It tells you alot about a person.

Yours truly,

Y/n

Time skip a few months -

Hi Y/n!

Just read your last letter, loved your descriptive story about your now sister in laws hen party! I need to see those drunk photos immadiately.

My summer break just started, I have a lot of down time and not a lot to do. Please do you have any suggestions!? I have a feeling that I'm going to spend my summer moving between the gym, my apartment and my local store.

How did the date with that guy go? Was the trip to the jungle mini golf really worth it? I remember I went on a date once, we went to a nice restaurant and by the end of the night she was black out drunk. WORST DATE EVER!!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

I would give you suggestions on what to do this summer. However just like you, my sofa becomes me seconds home after my bed. Well actually every summer me and my bestfriend deciated a day to binge watching all the Harry Potters! We go all out, getting themed snacks and making a fort out of blankets.

Oh my god! The date was horrible! All he did was talk about his family riches and how 'successful' he is. And to add salt to the wound the place was filled with whiny children. NEVER AGAIN!

Also I've add the photos from the hen party to the envelope, non of them have my face in it but you can see that the bride is enjoying herself.

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

Photos in the envelope -

-

Hey Y/n,

Looks like the hen party looks as exciting as it sounded! Send my crograts to the bride and groom please.

I'm sorry your date went like that, I hate rich snobs who just glot and I work around them a lot lol! A girl like yourself doesn't deserve to be treated like that, you deserve fancy restaurents and meaningful date. I know I would give you the world.

Harry Potter marathon?? Mmm doesn't sound like a bad idea, I might rope my friend into then, he's british so he'll feel right at home!

Anyways I've been thinking...over these last few months I've grown to trust and adore our little letters back and forth. And I was wondering if you wanted to exchange numbers or something, idk.

I'm actually in Barcelona next week for work, but we can arrange something if you wanted. I just feel like I'd want to put a face to a name and exciting personality!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Hi Oscar,

The world huh? Thats a bold statement...

Wait that ironic! I'm also in Barcelona next week, we could meet somewhere. I can't really do Thursday through to Sunday, that's when my work really starts.

But yeah we can meet at some coffee shop or something, I seen some nice recommendations on tiktok recently.

I'm actually really excited for this! I've never had a pen pal that actually worked out, let alone wanted to meet me, so I feel lucky! Yeah these letters have been fun to write, it's like I've learnt so much from you. Thank you so much!

OMG did you watch the last f1 race in Montreal?! Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo podium! I'm sooo proud Piastri, he is slowly but surely moving up and competing with Verstappen for my fav driver! There I said it!

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

-

Dear Y/n,

Is Piastri growing on you Y/n?? Ooo that's exciting! But you wouldn't want to disappoint the current world champ, his no 1 fan is going to the dark side!

I would definitely give you the world! In a heart beat actually, you've single handedly made me feel normal and human again and I am forever thankful for that!

So you're working Thursday through Sunday...the exact days that formula one is active in the same city. I feel bad for you honestly, I'm sorry...

How about we meet up on the Wednesday? Should we meet at the three marks coffee?? I've heard great things about their coffee!

Meet me there at 1pm! I actually can't wait! See you then!

Yours truly,

Oscar <3

Outside the cafe -

Stood just outside the cafe, Y/n fiddled with her bag. She didn't know why she was so nervous, she would trust her pen pal Oscar with her deepest darkest secret if needs be.

Busy was an understatement. And Y/n knew fully well why, it was the reason why she was here this week. Formula one. Being one the media girls at redbull meant that she had to attend every race, not that she was complaining.

Just down the street was Oscar, walking head held high and a large grin on his face. He was beyond excited to meet the mysterious Y/n.

When they both began sending letters to each other, they agreed that neither would pry for surnames, addresses and other personal details.

The one thing they decided to do today was dress in all white, making it easy for each of them to pin point each other.

Oscar approached the cafe, his eyes scanning the area for a women dressed in all white. Until he spotted her, it was love at first sight!

He was obsessed with how she stylied her hair, and what she decided to dress like considering the white rule. "Y/n!" Calling out her name, as he made a quick walk towards her.

Y/n could hear her name being called and when she turned she came face to face with the one and only Oscar Piastri smiling down at her. A gasp broke through her lips, surprised that he was her pen pal.

"You're my pen pal?" She asked in disbelief. The Australian driver nodding his head excitedly. "You let me hype you up about your driving and didn't tell me?"

They both broke out into laughter. "Yep! And I loved it!" Oscars face held a cheeky grin, that Y/n instantly fell in love with.

-

After settling down in a small secluded table just outside the cafe, Y/n turned to Oscar. Her face now holding a cheeky grin. "Is now the best time to tell you that I work at Redbull as a media girl?"

Now it was Oscars turned to look shocked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So you're telling me we've been right under eachothers noses the whole time!?" Neither expected that they were in reality quite close to each other whilst they were sending letters back and forth.

"What are the chances? Right?"

"Fancy leaving Redbull and join me in Papaya? maybe then Oscar Piastri will be your favourite driver..."

"Oscar!"

-

[skzdust]

Garlic Pasta (As a Form of Love)

This one's a bit shorter but it made me so happy to write! Sorry it took a few days! This fic was an anonymous request, check my masterlist to see if requests are currently open!

Summary: You and your boyfriend Chan are cooking together, and Chan never adds enough garlic for your taste.

Pairing: boyfriend!Chan x gn!reader

Word Count: 600

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife

Includes: Boyfriend Chan, blond Chan (bc I'm in love with him), cooking pasta, "I love you"s, affectionate teasing

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!

Masterlist

----

You watch as Chan adds oil and garlic to the pan. “More garlic.” You judge.

“More garlic?” He raises his eyebrows. “I think it looks fine.”

“You always think it looks fine.” You jump up to sit on the counter. “And then it always needs more garlic. What are you, a vampire?”

Chan does fangs with his fingers, lunging at you. You squeak and lean back. He laughs, and you’re struck by how much you love him. The way he looks at the floor when he laughs, the way he runs his hands through his hair, the way he teases you. You love everything about him.

You never thought you’d be dating Chan. He’s so… he’s everything. Handsome, funny, so sweet and protective. You’d convinced him to bleach his hair not too long ago, and you hadn’t thought he could get any more attractive, but you’d been proven wrong.

He faces his own challenges, you know that. He struggles with self-love, but you’ve been there for him, encouraging him to be kind to himself and cut himself some slack. He puts so much pressure on himself to be perfect—the perfect leader, the perfect songwriter, the perfect boyfriend. And as much as you believe he’s perfect, you always tell him he doesn’t have to be—he just has to give his best and not push himself too hard.

That doesn’t make him safe from some teasing, though.

“You are a vampire! Vampire Chan who doesn’t know how to make pasta. It’s garlic pasta. That’s the recipe. The point is the garlic.” You say, leaning back towards him.

“Fine. More it is.” Chan pokes your arm as he turns around, grabbing another clove of garlic and starting to chop it into small pieces. He misses your self-satisfied smile.

The smell of garlic begins to fill the kitchen; you can’t tell if it’s from what’s currently cooking in the saucepan or what Chan’s cutting, but it’s lovely. “That smells delicious already.”

“Glad you like it, baby.” He scrapes the cutting board into the saucepan, and the sizzling sound gets louder as he begins to stir it with a wooden spatula.

You hop off the counter and step behind Chan, draping your arms around his waist and perching your face beside his arm, watching what he’s doing. He glances down at you, but in that glance, you catch something deeper.

He looks at you like you’re his world. He looks at you like he loves you in the way that you love him—wholly, unconditionally. The affectionate smile on his lips, in his eyes, lets you know that your love is not one-sided.

He stirs the sauce he’s making. “Can you get the heavy cream for me, my love?”

You press a kiss to his (remarkably buff) arm. “Sure.” You get it from the fridge, screw off the lid, and put it beside him on the counter.

“Thank you.” He picks it up, his attention on the saucepan as he pours it in, stirring as he does so.

“Looks delicious.”

“Think it’s got enough garlic now?” He’s still looking at the pan, but there’s a smile in his voice.

You nod. “I think it’s good now.”

“Wonderful. I live to make your perfect pasta.”

“You’re doing a great job.” You say, and then, softer, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Chan glances up for a moment to press a haphazard kiss to your face. It lands beside your eye, and you giggle.

Those words, that kiss—you’re his, completely.

And he’s yours.