#yes I am aware of the fact that if I get in that is literally half of what I would do. i can tough it out im a multidimensional person.

[ot3]

i am not saying using chinese manufacturing is bad or that tariffs are good. i don't really think anything i said up there carries those connotations. i understand the reality of the current state of manufacturing is that it's near impossible or literally impossible to get certain types of goods manufactured domestically, especially for independent artists who live on incredibly thin profit margins.

"ai is not an art tool" yes it is. ai - the generative kind that produces images based on a prompt, to be specific -is a tool that exists to facilitate the creation of artwork. you don't get to decide that it's not that just because you don't like it. i'm not asking this person to integrate AI into their process.

but the fact of the matter is that paying for cheap labor overseas to manufacture goods that you then sell at a significant upcharge to domestic costumers is not morally neutral. i'm literally not saying anyone has to stop doing it because i'd be a hypocrite, im asking for a bit of self awareness in the role artists play in the economy when they do this. in order to profit off of goods you did not yourself make, have to be paying the people who did make them less than the value of the final product. that's like the most basic possible economic theory right there. if your stated reason for doing this is 'i am disabled and am not capable of doing this myself without causing permanent harm to my body' then i would expect you to extend the same grace to other disabled people who have different accessibility needs

it's also worth nothing that the original qrted tweet here doesnt mention people using AI to necessarily produce *commercial* works of art theyre going to sell. it just talks about people who previously were not able to be artists who may now be able to pursue that goal. you've instantly jumped ot assume this means producing commissioned illustrations for money. why are you assuming that? that's absolutely not the only kind of art people can make.

friend of mine sent these tweets to the groupchat this morning and i have not been able to stop thinking about it for house. the underpaid labor of chinese factory workers is an acceptable accessibility tool but generative AI isn't??? i really can't wrap my mind around the cognitive dissonance here. i guess it's because chinese factory workers are not artists, so it doesn't matter if their labor is used by a third party to extract profit. but since the labor of other artists is the thing that provides value to generative ai that's unacceptable. it's natural for artists to be able to systemically profit off of the work of ~uncreatives~ but if technological advancements allow Artistry to be mass produced in a way that allows non-artists access the potential capacity to profit off of other people's creative labor that's taking it a step too far. i just can't understand this mindset where artists are a special group of people whose work is uniquely valuable. it's really gross.

[thranduel]

astarion, the man who was dying and offered eternal life, but had no idea that it meant becoming a slave to a sadistic master.

astarion, the man who had his freedom and bodily autonomy ripped away from him.

astarion, the man who was forced to befriend, seduce and sleep with people to lure them back to his master, resulting in severe sexual trauma and the struggle to form any sort of intimate relationship.

astarion, the man who was horribly punished whenever he refused his master’s orders (one punishment being sealed away in a dusty tomb, starving, for an entire year. he scratched his hands raw trying to carve his way out).

astarion, the man who was forced to eat rats.

astarion, the man who hasn’t even been able to see his own face since he turned.

astarion, the man who had his body mutilated as cazador carved scars onto his back, which he later found out was to bind him to a ritual.

astarion, the man who is so severely traumatised that he admitted he doesn’t know how to say “no” or ask for help (and he feels guilty when he does).

astarion, the man who waited two centuries to be helped and freed from torture, but no one came.

astarion, the man who was always treated like a monster when all he wanted was to be treated like a person.

astarion, the man who came up to you in the middle of the night just to thank you for defending him and allowing him to make his own decisions.

astarion, the man who said that no one ever looked out for him or showed him kindness, and that you’re the only one. “other people don’t have a heart like you. you’re you. no one is like that.”

astarion, the man who broke the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago thanks to the love, care and compassion that you showed him when no one else did.

astarion, the man who confessed that he loves you and feels safe with you; something he has never felt with anyone before.

[moltengoldveins]

In other news: I’m having a Physical Response to RWD and its habit of traumatizing VR-LA in ways I can relate to in uncomfortable ways. Not only did the episode where he was cursed with madness and thought everyone hated him for a few weeks rewrite my brain chemistry and completely rebuild the way I talk to my family, but once when I was seventeen, I had what to me was an incredibly long dream (hallucination???) indistinguishable from reality. I had two extra limbs (wings pog) and was on the run from the government for a long time. I, a long-standing qp partner, and several close friends in a sort of underground royal-guard-esque paramilitary group. (Long story) At the time I woke up I could barely remember what year it was, who or where I was, and why my back hurt So Dang Much (missing limbs will do that to you). I spent the next year or so gradually loosing those memories and compulsively rolling and tensing my back because I could feel limbs that weren’t there. I can now barely remember anything from that dream except a few strong emotions and the tendency to get phantom pains in not-my-shoulders-but-right-above-them. Noir, if you see this: VR-LA and I are second-life buddies now, I have decided. I hope you know what you’ve done to this poor man. He’s gonna have the weirdest habits for the rest of his life and he’s literally never gonna be able to explain them.

[strawglicks]

constant mood for the past month or so

[legendaryjarcollection]

I hate reflecting on my own art I don’t wanna do this shit anymore (<- is applying to art school🤡🤡🤡)

[therosevest]

something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.

[astrxealis]

sorry (not really) guys if you see me return to my obsessed w final fantasy (all), ivalice ffxiv voicelines, bloodborne era rn

[nexo-nex]

jeremiah from the last door and daniel from amnesia are kinda the same character but in different fonts

[bard-of-spiders]

Fic positive: I get to fix the weird bits of story where it felt there should have been another option for another outcome

Fic Positive: I have to pic one of these options still.

[thelivingsin]

i don't care if it's bad for my heart i am worried and hesitant to check on you directly 🫰

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Sweet vengeance. // Gwayne Hightower x Cole!Reader (sister of Criston Cole)

Summary: After the encounter with Criston Cole, they return to the keep after successfully defending the territory, almost as if the gods were calling out for him to seek revenge; he ends up bumping into you.

WARNINGS: smut, mdni, porn with plot (a little bit too much plot ig), unprotected p in v sex, slight breeding kink, cunnilingus, oral (f. receiving) interrupted orgasm at the end, cumming inside, Gwayne is an absolute asshole to Criston, purity culture, virginity loss, profanity, age gap (left it up interpretation, but the reader is in her 20s and Gwayne in his 40s), doesn't follow the show plot it's a literal fic which I altered heavily + not proofread.

WC: 2.7k

A/N: here comes the promised gwayne x cole!reader fic, I've teased it ever since that confrontation episode dropped and now finally I'm able to publish it 😭 // divider credits: @cafekitsune

Gwayne walked through the corridors furiously, stomping his feet inside the red keep, departing to his guest chambers in a hurried manner, trying to stay calm.

He just returned from the battle, successfully defeating the invasion of the blacks into King's Landing, securing the land for themselves as Aemond ruled as Prince regent. However, there was only one thing on his mind.

His sister's tainted honour.

Amidst everything, he had gotten Criston to confess and admit that he was sleeping with the Queen, he was disgusted by the revelation. Wasn't Criston a kingsguard? Vowing to not seek pleasures or taint his cloak?

He felt sick in the stomach, wanting to empty it out, regardless of the fact that there is nothing inside.

His feet tapped against the stone floor harshly, his armour clanking with every step forward, he took a harsh turn at the end of the path only for his body to hit something that came from the opposite direction, causing him to stumble two steps backward. He took a moment to collect himself and straighten his posture, wanting to see what it was that he bumped into.

He looked down, shocked to see you on the ground. You broke the impact of the fall with your hands, which proved to be a bad idea considering how the force made them give up immediately, crashing your butt onto the ground. “Ouch.” You clenched your eyes shut as a burning sensation spread through your buttox.

You glared at the reason for your fall, eyes widening on the realisation that it was Ser Gwayne Hightower. “Seven hells, I apologise my lady, are you alright?” Gwayne is quick to apologise, extending his out, waiting for you to grab it and get up.

You gently place your hand in his, his palm closing immediately as he grips onto you while you get off the ground. “Ser Gwayne, I apologise, it was me who was at fault.” You bow, dusting off your gown with one of your hands.

“If it is not rude, might I ask who you are? I have not ever seen you around before, yet you seem to know me.” He speaks politely, giving you a small smile and you nod. “I am Y/N Cole, I know you very well Ser, your knighthood isn't unheard of.” You praise him.

“Y/N Cole… ? Are you related to Ser Criston Cole perhaps?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows as his grip tightens around your hand. “Yes Ser Gwayne, He is my elder brother.” You reply.

Gwayne was not aware that Criston had a sister.

He took in your form, eyes trailing down from your face to your neck, to your breasts and further downwards, analysing you quite intently, “Mhm, I did not know he had a sister.” Gwayne shrugs, still not letting go of your hand. “He is quite overprotective, so he doesn't mention my existence to his peers.” You admit embarrassedly, looking down and biting your lip. He stared at you for a moment too long, the like of dots being connected as his mind sketches out a plan of action. His expression almost betrayed him as his face bloomed into a wide smile.

Oh you sweet little thing.

He could not believe that Criston had a younger sister. It's almost as if the Gods are etching him on to trudge this path, but he was not going to complain. It felt like he won a war when he realised this fact.

He can use you against Criston.

Perhaps he will make Criston feel the same thing he felt.

He smiles widely at you, bringing your hand upwards and pressing his lips to your knuckles. You blush at this gesture and give him a soft smile in return. “If you may excuse me, I have to take my leave, my lady. I've returned from war and my state.. is well.” He looks at himself and you chuckle, “It is alright.” You reply and he smiles. “Let's go on a stroll next time, yeah?” He speaks in a questioning manner, your eyes widen at the offer but you nod immediately.

Those walks became more frequent as you both enjoyed each other's company quite a lot. Gwayne found you much more bearable than criston, he's aware of the fact that he is an elitist. Holding himself at great stature as he comes from the Hightower family. So any other house that is not in power or he hasn't heard of; he acts like an ass to them.

But he found himself being lenient on you, perhaps to butter you up for the feast he's planning to have. His thoughts have been a mess for the past few days. He at first began to plan on how to execute the plan and take your maidenhead and let the keep hear it. But the ratio of the execution and sexual part became heavily unequal as he wanted to indulge fully in you.

You were beautiful, your skin was pretty, the way your hair was styled, exposing your neck from behind. He wanted to bend you over the ledge and fuck you. You would be so confused he assumes.

Have you had your first orgasm? Did you ever touch yourself?

You were from Dorne so you must know of the deprived acts right? But he notes how young you are, likely spending your entire life here in Kings Landing with Cole.

It was one of those usual garden walks you went on with Gwayne, walking in silence as you both had nothing to talk about, this was no means foreign to you, there would always be silence sometimes during your walks; but this time it felt tense.

Like the feeling of a volcano before it erupts.

You both were standing over the parapet of the backside in the keep, noticing how the waters flowed gently. You felt him move, standing right behind you, pressing himself against you.

“My lady.” He whispers in your ear and you turn your head slightly, not reacting in any way, “H-hmm?” You reply in nervousness his hands moved up your sides in a sensual manner. You stood there frozen.

He grabs you by your shoulder and spins you around so that you're facing, placing his hands on both the sides of your frame; preventing any escape. “Are you promised to any man yet? Your beauty is otherworldly.” He asks, his eyes staring right into you, his voice was sweet yet held a hint of his perverse desire for you.

You shake your head no.

“Such a pity.” He mocks, one of his hands coming to grip your cheek. He pauses for a moment, staring at your lips before looking into your eyes waiting for you to say something; yet you remain quiet as your heart beats loudly in your chest.

He takes it as a cue to press his lips against yours closing his eyes; fully indulging himself onto you as he groans at how soft your lips feel, his own move against yours in a soft manner, a gentle pull of a wave.

It was your first kiss, never having done this with anyone before, it felt odd; but in a good way, his lips felt soft against yours, he waited for you to reciprocate— giving you all the time you needed to process this.

One of his hands rested on your hips, using it as leverage to pull you closer, pressing your bodies together while the other positioned itself against the back of your head pulling you deeper into the kiss.

You responded a while later, learning through the process, moving your lips in a rhythmic motion with his, he muttered something against your lips which you weren't able to process as your mind was hazy. Something about this kiss was shooting immense pleasure down your body; increasing the heat between your legs.

He pulls away from the kiss to take a breath while staring at your lips, noticing the string of saliva that was still connecting you both. He hums before capturing your lips once again but with even more fervour this time. He pushes back until your butt hits the ledge before he places you on it, not breaking the kiss at all.

He plants himself between your legs as his hands roam around all over your body in desperation, sometimes gripping your waist or your soft breasts, squeezing your flesh as he grips onto you tightly.

He breaks the kiss abruptly before he suddenly kneels, you look at him confused until you notice that he's hiking your skirts up, revealing your intimate area. “Ser, this might be inappropriate—” You try to protest but not knowing what to expect, but circles his arms around your thighs pulling you close as he disappears before your legs.

You watch curiously when you feel his warm breath on your cunt. You shriek in surprise when you feel his tongue run across your fdd before he fully takes in your cunt.

You squirm uncontrollably as he works his wonders on your cunt; causing you to grip his hair tightly and push yourself further into his face, you let out small moans, hoping that no one would pass by this area and catch you both in this compromised position.

You place your other hand on the ledge to support yourself from falling before closing your eyes and fully enjoying what he's doing to you. His tongue laps hungrily at your folds, licking them up and down before he suckles on your clit harshly, flicking the bud with his tongue before capturing it wholly again with his mouth.

He groans into your cunt, enthralled by the sensation of having your soft folds in his mouth, he enjoyed it way too much than he'd like to admit, wanting to be forever stuck in between your legs.

You feel a sudden heat building up in your abdomen as he continues his actions, “U-uhm Ser Gwayne— I think something is happening.” You tell him unsure which makes him speed up his movements.

Without warning, you're hit with a plethora of euphoria, your back automatically arching and your voice letting out a loud moan as the feeling hits you in waves. He suckles on your cunt for a minute to let you ride out your orgasm before coming out your skirt.

You feel your cheeks heat up when you see how his lips were coated with your wetness which makes you look away in shyness, he gets back up on his feet before grabbing your chin and tilting your head slightly to make you look at him.

He doesn't say anything but only stares at you as he slowly connects both your lips once again, making you take your own essence. He grinds against you, pressing his now hard bulge in between your thighs as he dry humps you.

He tears away from the kiss with a wet pop, not wasting any time in undoing his breeches, revealing his cock to you, your eyes widened at the sheer size and girth of it. “I-i don't think it will fit?” You stare at him which makes him smirk a little, “It will my lady, I shall see it does.” He replies before bunches up your skirt, making your cunt come into view.

He slowly lines himself against your entrance, his tip kissing the entryway gently as he slowly closes in, pushing it inch by inch. He places his hand on both your sides as you grip him for support, the stretch stinging a little bit.

It takes a while but he's fully inside now, and slowly he begins to move, he grabs a hold of your waist with one of his hands so you don't fall over the edge, he pushes your body against his, making it so as if you're hugging him.

You wrap your arms around his neck tightly as he rams into you, thrusting in and out; causing you to bounce along with him, he grunts into your ear, whispering sweet things.

“Seven hells, you feel so divine.” He whispers against your ear, causing you to clench involuntarily; which makes him gasp in shock, “Jeez—” He drops his head onto your shoulder, now fully gripping you by his arms around your waist as he rams further and further into you. “Fuck, I'm about to finish— should I do it inside you? Fill you up with my seed huh? Make you carry my babes?” He groans, the idea of you being pregnant with his children driving him insane, it would always be a good way to get back at Criston.

You feel him hitting your sweet spot inside you, prodding it with his tip every thrust. His pace falters as he reaches his end, with a final thrust— he finishes with a loud moan of your name as he pulls back and recaptures your lips, kissing you with even more hunger.

He keeps thrusting, wanting you go finish as well, you were about to; almost reaching the breaking point— “What in the seven fucking hells is going on here?!” The shout of a familiar voice makes you snap out of the trance, Gwayne halts and you both immediately look to the place of origin.

It was your brother, Criston.

His expression contained that of both anger and shock, Gwanye quickly pulls himself out of you and puts his breeches back on and you get off the ledge and pull your skirts down and pat the wrinkles down.

“B-brother I— I can explain, it was me—” You begin, “Be quiet, Y/N.” He grits his teeth, cutting you off from speaking as his eyes shoot daggers into Gwayne, whose face is now bearing a smug expression.

“You fucking bastard!” Criston yells before he reaches over and grabs Gwayne, throwing him to the ground before punching his face. Gwayne dodges it, holding his hands down. “It is not so nice when you discover that someone has been fucking your sister, is it?” Gwayne remarks which angers Criston further.

A group of guards rush over putting an end to this fight, pulling the two men apart as you stand there in shock, shaking as if you were scared of both the men.

The next thing you know, You, Gwayne, Criston were all standing before the dowager queen as she looked at you all three in questioning ways. “What has happened?” She directs her question to Gwayne who raises an eyebrow.

Gwayne doesn't answer, “This b- Lord Gwayne was—” Criston swallows as he looks at you, “He was caught in a compromising position with my sister.” He blurts out, “And what was the compromising position that made you raise your hand on my brother, Ser Cole? They could have just been together—” Alicent wanders off.

“He was fucking my sister.” Criston grits his teeth, spitting the words out like venom, causing Alicent to cut herself off. She goes silent as she looks over at her brother, “Is this true?” She asks and Gwayne nods, “Yes my Queen, how can a man hold himself back at the sight of such a maiden? Besides, she wasn't opposed to the idea.” Gwayne speaks out, his words angering Criston ever more.

“Y-yes your grace, I wasn't opposed to it.” You jump in defending Gwayne which makes me smile at you, making Criston look at you in disbelief.

“My Queen, he has tainted her, he has ruined her, who will marry her now?” Criston brings up a valid point which makes the Queen get lost in thought, you put your head down, ashamed of it.

“I shall, I will marry her.” Gwayne volunteers which makes everyone look at him in shock. He only offers a smile.

He wasn't doing it out of kindness or anything, he knew that by marrying you, Criston will experience the same torment and anguish Gwayne felt when he discovered the truth of Criston and Alicent, except it will be a hundred times worse because Criston has no way to avenge himself, for he cannot marry Alicent.

He'll have to suffer, watch his little sister marry Gwayne, become his wife and a mother of his children, every step will be a stab in a vital organ to Criston.

Was Gwayne going a bit too far? Perhaps, yet it didn't matter, for the situation only benefits him. Not only will Criston be tormented by this relationship but he will have you as his pretty wife whom he can fuck and ruin all he wants.

Gwayne is a selfish man.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[coffin-bird]

..

[percervall]

it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 1

Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: smut, dirty talk, mild degrading, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, fingering, slight nipple play, hinting at m/m, mentions of free use, *gasp* and they were room mates Word count: 1.9k

Part 1 of the Fuck It series

The arrangement was, frankly, absurd. Had the offer come from anyone other than Jenson, you would have kicked them so hard they wished you had punched them instead. Part of you hoped he would have forgotten what he had said while heavily under the influence of too much champagne, but luck was not on your side. 

"Have you thought about my offer?" Jenson asks, innocently blowing on his coffee, making you choke on air. 

"The offer in which I pay my rent by, wait let me check my notes. Ah, yes, 'fucking you'," you reply, voice a lot steadier than you feel. Because truth be told, it had been impossible to not fantasise about getting railed into next week by him- by any of them. Oh, you were well aware of how much your life had become the plot of a rom-com ever since your landlord decided to be an absolute greedy bastard. Become a live-in house sitter for 4 millionaires they said, it'll be fun they said. Liars.

"Oh come on, it'll be mutually beneficial," Jenson argued. 

"Proud of you for using your big boy words, pretty boy but how exactly is this gonna end up in anything other than disaster?" 

"He's hungover and a himbo, why are you bullying him?" Mark mutters, voice still rough with sleep as he literally picks you up and unceremoniously plops you down on top of the counter. There are days where you curse your small stature and his strength, especially when it leaves your brain stuttering to process getting manhandled. 

"We'll set rules. All I'm saying is we're all adults-.." You can't help but snort at that. "Fine, whatever. I'm just saying that I've seen the way you look at them, seen the way your eyes flash with lust and I am pretty sure some truly filthy fantasies, and I know I can speak for all four of us when I say we would love to help you realise those. Also, we don't need your rent money and this is just so much more fun." Well then. You just got read for filth before even having had your morning coffee. Fuck him for seeing right through you. 

"Where's your sense of adventure, nena?" Fernando comments, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Right next to my 'I survived Multi-21' t-shirt," you mutter. It's a low blow, but getting bullied into sleeping with four drivers makes it hard to think.

Mark shoots you a look, eyebrow raised. 

"The mouth on you," he comments, "Seb was very apologetic. Made it up to me in the best possible way. In fact, I should make you apologise to the both of us the same way, sweetheart. On your knees." He whispers the last part in your ear and you cannot contain the whimper that comes out at his thinly veiled threat.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being made to kneel and take cock like the good little girl you are, hm?” 

“Mark-..” You have no idea how to respond to that and keep your dignity in tact. You try to look away but Mark takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“I asked you a question sweetheart. Are you gonna be a good girl for us?” His thumb tugs on your bottom lip and all rational thought leaves you as you nod. 

“Mm, knew JB was right about you. Takes one to know one, I suppose.” You can hear a muffled what the fuck’s that supposed to mean? from the living room as Mark helps you down from the counter. You hadn’t even noticed the McLaren teammates had left the kitchen until just now. 

“On your knees, sweetheart,” Mark nudges you and you sink down onto the floor. The small kitchen runner is the only thing protecting your knees from the cold hardwood floor, but the prospect of sore knees is quickly forgotten now that you’re at eye level with Mark’s crotch. You can clearly see the outline of his hardening cock against his shorts and it has your mouth watering. Mark chuckles as he notices the hunger in your eyes.

“You’re lucky Seb is out for a run. Or maybe I’m the lucky one, getting to fuck this mouth all by myself.” The whimper you let out is involuntarily as you eagerly watch him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down far enough to free his cock. You scoot a little closer, taking him in your hand, tongue darting out to lick away the bead of pre-cum. Mark hisses, head thrown back and that’s all the encouragement you need to suck the tip into your mouth. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, sounding absolutely wrecked already despite you not even having done anything yet. 

“You said something about fucking my mouth?” Mark looks down at you, pupils completely blown and he grins so wickedly, it leaves you breathless. 

“Are you absolutely sure sweetheart?” As you nod in response, he gathers your hair into a ponytail in his fist, angling your face. “Alright then. Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much and I will stop, okay?” 

“Okay,” you parrot, and move your legs apart ever so slightly to stabilise yourself. Mark drags the tip of his cock across your lips and you open up for him. He slides in, careful to not immediately choke you. You relax your jaw as much as you can, but god it’s been so long since you last did this. Mark sets a slow rhythm, letting the both of you adjust. Looking up at him through your lashes, you can see how he’s trying to hold on to the last shreds of self control, and well. That just won’t do. 

“Mark,” you say, slightly out of breath as you pull back, “you taunted me with using me. So for the love of God, fucking use me.” Mark chuckles and the sound has you aching. He tightens his grip on your hair and slides his cock back into your mouth. Resting your hands on his thighs, you close your eyes as he finally delivers on his promise. The sounds are obscene and if you had a functioning brain cell left, you would have been concerned about the two of you doing this in the kitchen, but as things stand, the only thing you can focus on is Mark’s throbbing cock inching down your throat. Forcing yourself to open your eyes, you look at him as you swallow around him. 

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m not gonna last, sweetheart,” he groans, pulling back. You hollow your cheeks while taking deep breaths through your nose, pulling another string of curses from the Aussie. You can feel his cock throb as he grunts above you.

“Gonna-.. Fuck.. So good, you feel so fucking good..” he mumbles, and throws his head back as he comes. 

“You better not swallow, Schatzi,” comes a voice from the doorway. Who are you to disobey? Mark pulls out carefully, tucking himself back into his shorts while Sebastian helps you up from the floor. He carries you bridal style into the living room, placing you down on the couch next to Fernando. 

“Show Nando, baby,” Sebastian all but coos and you carefully open your mouth. The underlying relationships? Questionmark? between your housemates makes your head spin, but judging by the way Fernando’s eyes darken, Sebastian knows something about the Spaniard you don’t. 

“Can I kiss you, nena?” he asks and all you can do is nod. Fernando cradles your cheek, pressing an almost chaste kiss against your lips before he runs his tongue over the seam of your lips. The moan he lets out as he tastes Mark on your tongue has you throbbing. When you break apart to catch some air, Sebastian leans closer and licks away the few drops of cum that spilled when Fernando kissed you. Am I dreaming? you can’t help but wonder. Out loud apparently.

“Very much awake, doll,” Jenson grins as he kneels in front of you, “Something tells me you’re absolutely soaking. Mind if I give a hand? I do so love making people come with my mouth,” he adds and you’re quick to raise your hips so he can pull down your panties, much to Jenson’s amusement. He pushes your oversized shirt up higher and parts your legs. Sebastian moves your face so he can steal a kiss and you moan into his mouth as Jenson drags the flat of his tongue over your oh so sensitive clit. Their hands are everywhere it feels like. You’re pretty sure Fernando has one up your shirt, teasing your nipple while he kisses your neck. Jenson’s are curled around the inside of your thighs as he holds you open for him while Sebastian has one hand on your cheek as he kisses you; the other mirrors Fernando’s. Needing something to hold on to, you bury a hand in Jenson’s hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning against your cunt as you tug. Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back with a moan of your own while you grind against Jenson’s tongue. 

“Need.. Fingers.. Please, Jenson, need your-.. Fuck, oh God..” Despite your incoherent state, Jenson understands what it is you’re asking of him as he carefully slides two of his long fingers inside of you. Sebastian and Fernando manage to strip you of your t-shirt, both of them taking a nipple into their mouth. 

“I’m so-.. So close.. I’m gonna cum, please can I cum?” you whimper. Fernando mutters a yes against your skin and something snaps; Your back arches as your orgasm hits you and for a moment you forget how to breathe. The loss of Jenson’s fingers makes you whine but your housemates more than make up for it when Fernando grabs his wrist in order to bring Jenson’s fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tastes you. 

“Just as I thought, you taste delicious nena,” the Spaniard comments with a grin. These men will be the death of me, you can’t help but think while Seb accepts the glass of water Mark hands him. The German driver helps you take a few sips as you slowly return into your body. Something tells you that this only scratches the surface of their underlying dynamics and you are dying to delve deeper.

“Told you it’d be mutually beneficial,” Jenson jokes, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“God, I hate that I’m saying this because your ego is fucking big enough as is-,” you start only for Jenson to interrupt with a that’s not the only thing that’s big, doll which makes you roll your eyes.

“I was gonna agree to your plan, idiot. You proved your point. Twice over. I- eh.. I can see the appeal,” you continue before downing the last of the water. The four men share a look that you can’t quite decipher and it makes you wonder: just what did you exactly sign up for? You pull your shirt back on, suddenly very aware of the fact you’re naked, needing something to act as a barrier between you and this crazy idea. 

“How about we discuss the details after breakfast? Don’t know about you, but I am starving,” Mark breaks the silence. You nod gratefully and let Sebastian pull you to your feet. A part of you is excited to see where this.. arrangement will lead you, but you’re also apprehensive that you might be about to bite off far more than you can chew. 

Welp. Here we go I guess. Updates are gonna be slow on this, so please temper your expectations. Ideas have been brain stormed, things are brewing in the ol' noggin, I just gotta write it 🥲

Massive shoutout to @curiousthyme and @feralnando for helping me brain rot about this and for holding my hand while I descent even further into chaos. This whole part was written while listening to Hozier's Too Sweet and Ethel Cain's Gibson Girl on repeat, so feel free to do with that information as you please

Please let me know what you think. Your comments, likes and tags mean the world to me 💜

taglist

@2pagenumb @dannyramirezwife @daydreaminlewis @emlynblack @forza55 @jaimeleannavanlloman @mehrmonga  @szobosz @raizelchrysanderoctavius @whoreforeveryon

[readsaboutreid]

Fantasies (Part II) | S.R.

summary: Spencer and (Y/N) have been working back to back to back cases before finally getting a weekend off and take the opportunity to go to a local convention and have some fun cosplaying.

this is smutty smutty smut smut so 18+, minors dni please and thank you :)

contains: oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, roleplay, creampie

the first part can be found here (it's also 18+ and smut sorry but also not sorry)

also before any potential trekkies come for me yes i am aware that in the early to mid aughts Vulcan was a ridiculously hard language to learn but suspend your disbelief because the thirst for early series spencer reid is real for me okay?

any dialogue in italics is in Vulcan, any dialogue in regular text is in English :)

"You almost ready, (Y/N)," Spencer asked through the door to the bathroom, knocking lightly as he did so. "Garcia is supposed to be here in 15 minutes so we have to make sure we're ready before then."

"Almost!" She called back, "just finishing up my makeup!"

Spencer took a look in the full-body mirror that she had resting up against the wall. He decided to cosplay as a generic original series star fleet science officer to keep it simple, but (Y/N) offered to help him put on some proper prosthetics so now he's a generic Vulcan science officer (with slightly less than Vulcan hair). He gently fiddled with the ears as he looked in the mirror and then jumped slightly as he felt a pair of small arms gently wrap around his waist from behind before he heard the soft, mellifluous voice of his girlfriend from over his shoulder.

"Don't do that too much," she chided him with a good natured chuckle, "I worked hard on applying those!"

"Sorry, angel," he offered a sheepish apology (complete with embarrassed smile), before turning around to face her and gently plant a kiss on her lips. She stood on her toes and moved her arms from around his waist and wrapped them around his shoulders. His arms snaked their way around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth and dancing against her own.

Once they broke apart, Spencer took the chance to take in her own outfit. She looked much more convincing in her Vulcan cosplay with her dark hair styled into a perfect chin-length bob, the front of it pushed back and tucked behind her prosthetic ears, and slightly curved bangs that were just long enough to cover the fact that she very much had human eyebrows. She had also decided to go with an Original Series cosplay, wearing a short blue star fleet dress with a translucent pair of black thigh high stockings. On her feet were a pair of black knee high leather boots with a small two-inch heel.

Spencer became aware of how uncomfortably tight his pants were starting to feel and cleared his throat, looking at literally anything else (he settled on keenly observing the books on his shelf, noting to himself that he should really get around to dusting at some point). He couldn't afford to be horny if they were going to be hanging out with Garcia and her friend for the day.

"You okay, there, Spencer?" The melodic giggle snapped him back to reality, and he could feel his face burn as his cheeks blushed a bright shade of red. He was painfully cognizant of the fact that her hands were now tracing along the waistband of his black pants, immediately nullifying his efforts to decrease his arousal. Her fingertips moved lower, ghosting over the bulge in the front.

Spencer let his mouth drop open before managing to stammer out, "(Y/N), we don't have enough time to—" his voice cut out as he gasped at the sudden sensation of her small, soft fingers slipping past the waistband of his pants and briefs, gently wrapping around his throbbing member.

"Well, Dr. Reid," she began slowly stroking up and down, earning an enthusiastic grunt from Spencer. He'd never tire of hearing her call him that. "It would seem you're in no position to be going anywhere quite yet. The most logical course of action would be to relieve you before the arrival of our companions, would it not?"

Holy shit. He had fantasized about roleplaying with her like this ever since she had brought it up a few months back. His knees buckled at the thought.

A moan forced its way through his lips as his hips bucked up into her hand. "You make a very sound argument, Dr. (Y/L/N), but I don't know if we have ti—oh my god yes!" She ran her thumb over the leaking tip, and then started to sink to her knees. She planted sloppy kisses along the waistband of his pants before working the fly on the front with deft and eager fingers. As soon as his cock was freed from its constraints her lips were wrapping around the tip. His fingers quickly tangled into her hair and he had to restrain himself from pushing her down onto him further as her tongue danced and swirled across him.

Thankfully she didn't make him wait for too long, her mouth starting to slowly envelop the rest of him until he could feel the tip hit the back of her throat. She gagged lightly and pulled back a little bit, bringing her hand up to wrap around the part of his shaft that didn't quit fit into her mouth and stroking it in rhythm with her bobbing head.

With a fresh burst of energy, Spencer moved his hips in time with her hand, his knees weakened by the desire coursing through his veins. He knew they didn't have much time left before Garcia and her friend arrived, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her to stop. He was lost in a world of pure sensation, her lips, her tongue, her hand, it was almost too much for him to bear.

As she increased the pace of her movements, his breath came in shallow gasps, trying to fight the urge to shout out her name. He could feel the tension growing within him, a storm brewing deep inside him.

(Y/N)'s lips moved up and down around his shaft, her tongue dancing along the sensitive skin as she took him deeper than he thought possible. He could feel her throat constricting around him, her saliva filling his mind with the images of her lips and the sound of her moaning as she pleasured him. He couldn't imagine anything more incredible, more fulfilling, than the sensation of (Y/N)'s lips and tongue on him, wrapped around him so intimately.

(Y/N), her eyes closed in concentration, sensed that he was nearing his climax. She increased the tempo of her movements, her hand and mouth in perfect harmony, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Her eyes remained shut, fully immersed in the task at hand, completely unaware of the world outside of their bubble.

As the climax grew nearer, Spencer could feel his entire body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. His fingers tightened in her hair, gently urging her on as his cock throbbed with need. The room seemed to blur around them, their world shrinking down to just the two of them and the ecstasy that consumed them.

(Y/N) seemed to read his mind, picking up the pace even more as she continued to stroke his cock and suck his shaft with fervor. Her eyes remained closed, her focus completely on the task at hand. She knew that he was close, and she wanted to make sure he reached that peak of pleasure he so desperately craved. He could feel his orgasm building inside him, a storm of intensity that threatened to consume him whole.

And then, without warning, it hit him like a tidal wave. With a loud groan, Spencer's body convulsed as he released his load into (Y/N)'s mouth. She didn't hesitate, swallowing every drop, her eyes still closed as she continued to pleasure him until the very last drop.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing. Spencer's body shook with aftershocks, his knees weak and legs trembling as he tried to catch his breath.

(Y/N) finally pulled her mouth away with a soft pop, a satisfied smile spreading across her face as she licked her lips and looked up at him sweetly, the sight making Spencer's heart race even more.

They were brought back to reality by the sound of a doorbell. (Y/N) shot to her feet and checked the mirror, attempting to straighten her hair by combing her fingers through it, before walking through the door and heading to the front door. As (Y/N) let in their friends Spencer could hear Penelope from the living room as she began laughing and said, "girl whatever you two were doing has left your hair a wreck!"

Spencer and (Y/N) sat at a small table with their giant soft pretzels, Garcia and her friend having wandered off to watch a panel. They both sat at the table, their feet aching slightly from walking around in the convention center. Spencer's pretzel sat forgotten in front of him, all of his focus on his girlfriend sitting across from him. Her face was slightly flushed from the warmth in the convention center, the heat from the crowds easily overpowering the AC running in the building. His eyes roamed from her cheeks to her breasts, straining against the fabric of her dress.

"Spencer?" (Y/N) waved a hand in front of his face, "anybody in there?" She gave another one of her trilling giggles and Spencer felt a small smile spread across his lips involuntarily at the sound. He slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers and his smile turned into a sheepish grin at the loving yet exasperated look she was giving him.

"Sorry, heh," Spencer chuckled nervously as his face burned with embarrassment at being caught blatantly ogling her chest in public.

She muttered as she shook her head. It took Spencer a second to realize why he couldn't figure it out until he asked her to repeat herself. "I said, 'men at conventions are all the same,' you silly, silly man," she smirked at him. His eyes went wide as she spoke Vulcan as fluently as any other language, and his heart skipped a beat. He was sure he'd lose consciousness with how quickly the blood rushed from his brain to his dick.

"Y-you speak Vulcan?" He responded, also speaking Vulcan, trying to hide his growing erection by crossing his legs.

A wicked grin spread across her lips. She took note of his shifting posture and his flushing face as she responded, "is there a problem, doctor? You're flushed and sweating."

"Have you finished your food?" Was his only response as he began gathering up his own trash and standing up. His breathing was slightly uneven and when he finally looked at her and met her eyes, she saw the raw need emanating from them.

Spencer could see her piece together what was going through his head and noticed as her smile took on a nearly feline quality. "Doctor, are you suffering from the Blood Fever?" She crooned as she, too, began gathering up her trash and belongings. Her movements were slow and leisurely, and as she stood she remarked in English that she should probably shoot a text to Garcia that they were headed out for the day. He stood by the table and leaned against it, casually slipping his hands into his pocket so he could adjust himself in his pants to conceal his raging boner.

She moved to stand a couple inches in front of him and looked up at him through her eyelashes and flashed him an innocent glance and a not-so-innocent smile. He throbbed in his pants and she reached for his hand and began leading him towards the exit.

The cab ride back to his apartment had been torture, to say the least. Spencer's cocked throbbed and ached the entire way and (Y/N) did nothing to help the situation, whispering things into his ear in Vulcan that he had never dreamt of anyone ever actually using the language to say while tracing lazy circles on his chest with her fingers.

He all but sprinted up the steps while pulling her by the hand behind him. He fumbled and dropped his keys as he attempted to unlock the door but quickly managed to get the door open and as soon as they were both inside his lips found hers. He kicked the door shut and began guiding her towards his bedroom while his hands found her waist. As they entered the room he tore his lips from hers and took the chance to take her in. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips were swollen and parted slightly, and her cheeks were flushed as she panted lightly.

His lips found hers again as he slowly began to guide her towards the bed, gently laying her down on the bed and crawling on top of her. His hips rested between her open thighs and his cock pressed up against her clothed pussy. He ground himself against her and both of them moaned at the friction.

"What of the Ritual, doctor?" She smirked up at him as he began trailing his kisses from her lips to her chin, then down to her neck. He bit down on a sensitive spot gently before soothing it with his tongue, earning a gasp from (Y/N) as her back arced off the bed.

"Forget the Ritual, I need to take you now," he moaned as he ground against her harder before pulling back to unfasten the button of his pants, followed by the zipper. He pushed his pants and briefs down just far enough to free his cock and hissed as the cool air of his room met with the aching flesh. When he looked back down at (Y/N) he noticed she had taken to opportunity to remove her own underwear and wasted no further time as he pressed himself back into her, groaning at the slickness that awaited him.

He positioned his cock at the entrance to her dripping cunt, nudging up against her gently. She whimpered and bucked her hips up, trying to push him into her. He began slowly pushing into her, inch by throbbing inch, until he was buried all the way into her. They both let out long, drawn out sounds of pure ecstasy. Spencer pulled out a couple inches and then pushed back in as (Y/N) hooked her ankles together behind him, her heels pressing into him. He maintained this pace as he leaned onto one arm, freeing up his other hand to reach in between them and start teasing her clit, pressing feverish kisses into her neck while he gently fucked her.

She moved her hips against his, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she panted and mewled underneath him. "How does it feel, (Y/N)?" He crooned into her ear, his breathing becoming ragged. He sped up his hips, earning a loud moan in response. "Come on, (Y/N), use your words."

"Harder, please," she whimpered, throwing her head back and crying out in pleasure as he obliged. He reared up above her, biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut as he felt himself racing towards his own climax. He opened his eyes right as she reached her hand between them to take over rubbing little circles onto her clit and nearly lost himself in the sight. Her dress was pushed up over her hips, her eyes fluttering back into her head, and her face and neck flushed a deep scarlet. His breathing grew rougher and more ragged and his thrusts became disjointed as he moaned louder and louder.

"Yes, please fill me doctor!" She cried, and Spencer roared in response, throwing his head back and stilling his hips as he came. (Y/N)'s own orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, ripping through her body and making her pull him into her, melting into a single being of tangled limbs and desperate moans.

He panted above her, resting his forehead against her neck as he slowly pulled out of her and collapsed next to her on the bed. He turned to reach for the box of tissues he kept on his nightstand, cleaning himself up and handing allowing (Y/N) to clean herself up as well, before pulling his pants back up and pulling her into him, laying her head against his chest.

"We have to do this again," she giggled sleepily, rubbing lazy circles into his chest with her fingers. He nodded and kissed the top of her head, his eyelids heavy.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he mumbled as sleep finally began to take hold of him.

[12percentspider]

Info time: Diabetes and related issues [this is long but I highly suggest reading]

Do you ever see something and you go "that doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about diabetes to dispute it"? Well, I can help you there. I can help you know enough about diabetes to dispute it if need be. Especially because well, there are seemingly a lot of scams going around where people claim to be diabetic [in my experience it's maybe 3 scammers that just remake] and the information is not very correct in most cases. Not to mention this type of scam pisses me off because I am in fact diabetic, and not only are people preying off of others' lack of information about the chronic condition, but it's also trivializing a serious lifelong condition that can be fatal. If you have now or have lost a loved one to diabetes complications, you are already aware of how dangerous it can be as well as how dangerous misinformation is as well.

What is diabetes? Diabetes is a chronic condition related to the endocrine system- the pancreas specifically. However, if complications get serious enough other parts of the body will be affected. In type 2 diabetes, the body's cells have become resistant to insulin, which is a hormone produced by the pancreas that allows cells to use glucose from the blood- your body's energy it needs to function. When someone is 'type 2', the food that person is eating is not able to fuel them, regardless of caloric content. Glucose is commonly called "blood sugar". It's a type of sugar that is processed and then transported via the circulatory system to your cells where it's needed. With type 1 diabetes (which used to be called "juvenile diabetes"), the pancreas does not produce any/enough insulin for some reason or another, generally because of autoimmune or other damage. [For me personally, I was diagnosed as an adult and had to have it confirmed as type 1 due to the presence of autoimmune antibodies, also apparently my pancreas hadn't quite given up at that point.] As we've seen before, insulin allows your body to use the food you are putting into it. As a double whammy, you can have type 1 with resistance, so not only is your body not producing any/enough insulin, what's there can't be used properly. [RIP Spider who has this] So to explain the effects, think about what happens when you're literally starving. Now imagine that's happening no matter how much you eat. Your body may go into starvation mode and store fat. This can be misleading, which when combined with fatphobia has people concluding that "well, you have diabetes because you're fat, duh". Heck, I have/had diabetic relatives who believed that eating too many carbs will automatically cause the condition because that's what everyone is told/assumes. Eventually, you'd starve and your body would start deteriorating as so. HOWEVER because you would have so much glucose that just sits there because it can't be used, your kidneys are going to work overtime to try and correct this- and they can't do it alone. Your liver can also suffer severe damage. That's not to mention a whole host of other complications that can occur.

So what about it? Well, obviously there are treatments. Insulin injections have existed since the 1920s. There are also medications that can help your body actually use the insulin it's being provided, be it naturally or artificially. So yes, people with diabetes are dependent on prescriptions to survive. My grandma lost a sister in childhood due to insulin treatments apparently not being available in the extremely rural area they were living in at the time. More recently, the israeli occupation has banned insulin from being distributed to Palestinians. [Insulin has also been used historically in psychiatric hospitals to force low blood sugar in psychiatric patients, but that's a whole other rabbithole about psychiatric abuse.] There are resources for the US and beyond if you or someone you know and/or love are in dire straits financially and need help with insulin or other diabetes medications/ related medical help. That's only one aspect of treatment, though. Because pain, stress, hormone changes, other medical issues, and plenty of other factors can raise your blood sugar to dangerous levels, other kinds of treatment to manage other factors may be necessary.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get to specifics. So the most common problem you're going to see mentioned is high blood sugar. We've already covered what the effects are, but what is considered high? For the most part, "high" is 200 milligrams per deciliter. My CGM (continuous glucose monitor) lists "high" as anything 181 or higher but stops giving an exact number after 350. This is why I had a good laugh that time I saw a scammer using an image of a meter reading glucose in the 120s- that's good blood sugar. If you're going to get even more specific you want your pre-breakfast blood sugar to be 80-130. So when you see an accompanying image reading in the 500s, that's extremely dangerous. That's "you're in danger of going into a coma" dangerous.

Insulin pricing? How come I'm seeing people saying they need $300? In the US, pricing cap was set to $35 somewhat recently. What this means is that per insulin pen (as far as I've experienced, the above-linked resource post should have links with better clarification) it's $35. Can't be more than that for one pen. How many doses that provides is very up in the air. It absolutely varies from person to person. I have relatives with type 2 that have to inject a dose of very long-acting insulin weekly, one has gone back and forth with daily doses on top of that. I'm type 1 and have to take one dose of long-acting nightly with injections of a short-acting insulin before every meal, with the exact dosage amounts varying per meal. Insulin is measured in units (there's probably an actual mL amount, both of mine are 100 units per mL with a 3mL pen). How many units someone needs is determined with their medical provider (or care team? When I went to 'diabetes education' after diagnosis I was set up with a "care team").

Edited:

["...pharmacies can refuse to split boxes of insulin pens depending on company/store policy. so if someone lost their insulin and needed to get a replacement because insurance wont pay for more, the pharmacy could make them get a full box of three or five pens."]

via: anon ask (thank you much!!!) So it turns out that yes, with $35 being a cap it would very much likely be for EACH pen, with 3 being $105 in this case and 5 being $175.

But at any rate, if someone is in an emergency situation in the US should be able to get an insulin pen for $35 pretty much when they get to a pharmacy [again, from edit: no, not every pharmacy]. Yes, I get that this can be difficult in some situations, but that's outside the concept of insulin prices.

If someone's blood sugar is over 500 though, they almost certainly need a hospital more than they need an insulin pen. Yes, alright, the actual real single mother on twitter who was the source of the profile images/meter images that whatever the current url for vero-og has stolen and been using for months... that was actually months ago and I'm sure she doesn't need to be told to go to the hospital right now. [That said, if you get an ask from someone and the url is a variation off of 'vero-og' that is a confirmed scammer.] And then on top of that, yes, why would you block people that can get you free or discounted insulin? If someone was offering to save your life for free or find you what you need for far less than what you were expecting to spend, why wouldn't you take it? Unless what you're actually after is money.

SO TO RECAP: Insulin does not cost $300, $350, $370, whatever someone is sending you an ask about. In the US, it is federally capped at $35 per pen, with further resources available, as well as further resources being available internationally. If you need help, please be honest about it. I promise there are people who care, you don't have to try and explain yourself- but it absolutely does not cost that much and if it did, there are ways to lower the cost by quite a bit if there aren't resources to make it free. Diabetes is a lifelong chronic condition that is not caused by "being fat" or "eating too much", it is caused by your body not functioning right and your body can starve no matter how much food you eat. Unfortunately, people have been lying on this site for months if not years claiming to have type 1 with an insulin emergency. These people cannot possibly have diabetes, or they would be well aware that they do not need hundreds of dollars to get their insulin. They are counting on you not knowing this so you will donate to them. The 'vero-og' scammer had been harassing someone who donated and threatening them with the intention of bullying more money out of the donor.

[literaila]

hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?

lipstick

warnings: ugh, peter

*

“how many times have you done that?”

peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.

you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”

“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”

you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.

instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”

“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”

“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”

“yes, and yes.”

it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.

he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”

you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”

“weird? how am i being weird?”

“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”

“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”

“you’re following me.”

peter smiles. “well, i like you.”

you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”

“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.

“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”

he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”

“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”

he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”

“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”

“‘s probably why i like it so much.”

his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.

“peter, we have to go.”

“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”

“i’m aware.”

you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.

“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.

“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.

“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.

“no.”

“how come?”

you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”

“you have more, don’t you?”

“not the point.”

“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”

“no, i do not.”

you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.

“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.

you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”

“i think we are.”

“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.

“that is a terrible compromise.”

“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”

peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”

“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”

“then how come we haven’t left yet?”

you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.

your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.

he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”

“are you british all of the sudden?”

peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”

“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”

“no clue what you mean, dear.”

you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.

“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”

“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”

“that’s one option.”

you roll your eyes again.

“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”

“shove it, peter.”

“you don’t even want to hear it?”

you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”

peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.

the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.

“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.

“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.

and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.

you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.

but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.

you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.

but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.

and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”

“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”

peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”

“and you’re making it up to me later.”

“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.

you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.

*