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laughing-with-god · 8 months

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Unsaid Vow I

(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)

Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.

Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!

Read first: Prologue

“I’m a grown man.”

These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.

You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.

If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen. Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.

“Good morning to you too, bud.” You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up. But what was the point of having plans when you had a child? They had a talent for ruining them.

“I’m five today.” Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.

“Yup, I know dumpling.” You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see ‘6:03 am” staring back at you. “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”

You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth. How could you ever forget that hellish day?

“Mom, it’s my birthday.” Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.

“Yes, happy birthday love.” You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt. “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”

“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”. Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.

Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies.

It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up. You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.

“Right, that is a good point.” You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired. “How does some breakfast sound?”

“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”

“Proposal?” You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.

“Yeah, that.” Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation. “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups. Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.” Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.

“Mmm...” You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer. “What if I gave you a very light coffee? A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”

Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.

With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch. “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud? I’ll be right out.”

The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.

You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of. More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on.

It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place. Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.

No.

Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.

Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later. Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40. Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.

Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from. Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.

A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.

You had asked why, bewildered at the request.

Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?

“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine. I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.” He had said.

That didn’t really make sense to you.

You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.

It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.

It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.

You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.

When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons. The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.

“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.” Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies. “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”

“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast. You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.

The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.

You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.

The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.

“And of course, your coffee.” You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.

“Thanks mama.”

The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.

“Something wrong, dumpling?”

“It tastes…fa-fam-”

“Familiar?”

“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”

You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup. “No, this is the kid version. It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”

Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.

Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew. Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.

“So buddy, what do you want to do today? We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”

“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.”

Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.

Hugo had no friends. It was tough for a kid like him to make any. At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park.

Your son was different. He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.

So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends. You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then.

“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.” The boy looked at you skeptically. “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories. Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy. Sounds good?”

Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch. The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.

“Fine mommy, but we should be quick. Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”

“Allergies? Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.” You rolled your eyes.

With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.

When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities.

Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.

‘Be home by 6 please. Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’

#yandere jungkook #bts #yandere bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere bts fic #yandere imagines #bangtan boys #bts x reader

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 year

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Yandere Jock X F! Bookworm! Reader

Pt. 2 Pt.3

TW: Non-con, dubcon, spankings, mention of isolation, bribery

A/N: I’m excited to write my first smut like this. It was a much needed writing exercise.

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

You were always a bookworm. You didn't like talking to other people much, but you value the few friends you have. That was until he came along. The school jock, the lightly tanned skin with sun-kissed hair boy, with six-foot stature. Along with muscles to match his build. He rarely came by you, but that day fate decided to let his eyes shine down on you in your corner of the library.

He grabbed a book about muscle mass and sat next to you in the blue bean bag.

"Have I seen you around anywhere? You look familiar," He asked, looking at you as you focused on your book more. "Not a talker, huh?"

You refused to give this guy the time of day, especially when you didn't want to be a one-time hookup. You close your book and leave the library, not paying attention to the football player behind you. If only you knew how much he wanted you.

Eventually, as the day went on, he would try to talk to you, but to no avail. You simply didn't want to be one of his sexual conquests. Then, the pep rally came for the big game, and that's when your life changed forever. As usual, your bookworm self skipped the pep rally to head out to the library. You didn't like the noise and screams of other students, and you especially didn't like being crowded in a gymnasium during a hot day.

You grabbed a shiny blue book from the middle shelf and settled into the bean bag near a dark and quiet corner. The librarian had already gone home but left the keys under the doormat since she knew you liked to come after hours. Although, it was a pain having to lock up before going home.

The last bell rang, but unfortunately, you couldn't hear it due to falling asleep from reading Caraval. But that wasn't unusual for you. You'd just wake up and walk out of the library minutes to hours later. Unfortunately, your absence at the pep rally had caused the final straw to break in this poor jock's mind. He had been trying to get your attention for days. Flowers in the locker you hardly visit, notes that ended up in the trash, and even $500 cash in your backpack. Nothing got your attention. You were always more interested in your damn books than him. But when you were nowhere to be seen during the pep rally, something broke inside of him. You obviously needed help noticing him, and he knew just how to fix it. He knew how you’re a virgin but still had the urge to touch yourself until orgasm. He was going to give you better than that. He was going to fuck your brains out. He was going to give the best fucking of your life. He was going to be oh so soft and gentle as he took your virginity away. That is if his testosterone-fueled rage didn’t make him overdue it.

He walked into the library and found your sleepy figure about to leave. Everyone had gone home, and the sun was starting to set. No one was going to help or catch you with him.

Like a predator in the dark, he made his move and slammed you into the brick wall, slightly tilting your glasses. He held both your hands above your head with one hand and used the other to grab your face.

“You’re going to pay attention to me. Not your books, not your phone, just me. Me!” He growled, his body twitching with rage. “Do you know how long I’ve tried to gain your attention? Your affection? Only for you to ignore me or brush me to the side!”

“I’m sorry! I truly didn’t mean to ignore you! I just thought you were messing with me!” You cried, tears streaming down your face as your glasses fogged up.

“Oh, but you did! You ignored me earlier today in this very library! You’ve ignored me whenever I tried to talk to you! Fuck! All those other girls I’ve let taint my body were for you! All for you! Your affection! Now it’s time I showed you how I feel since you won’t notice me without help!” He barks out, slamming his lips on yours.

His tongue didn’t even fight for dominance just took over your mouth. Occasionally, he’d wrap his tongue around yours, but his tongue was mainly greedy.

“Screw these! You don’t need them for this!” He growled, throwing your glasses off. “Perfect.”

Your hair was a mess, and drool trailed down your chin. His eyes began to stare at the baggy plain shirt covering your pretty ass. He roughly flipped you onto your stomach and lifted your ass up by the leggings. Despite your ass being small, it was still a cute bubbly round that he could pound into euphoria. He didn’t care you didn’t have a standard beauty body. That just meant more people would stay away from you. It was less work and bribing for him.

“Your choice, spankings, oral, or fingering? Though if we do fingering, we’re going straight to sex afterward,” He asks, slowly rubbing your ass.

“Spankings,” You answered immediately, wanting to stall him for as long as possible.

“Haha, I see you like my hands on your ass. Very well, I’ll spank you, but I’ll sneak in some kisses to ease the pain,” He said, slowly peeling your leggings to your knees.

His massive hands began to spank your ass roughly, occasionally slapping your sex to get more juices to spread around on your ass. It was only the beginning of the pleasure. You didn’t want to feel so good from him spanking you, but you were finding it hard to hold back your moans. He delivered the final slap to your ass, then dove straight into your ass to kiss your clothed pussy.

“I’m so glad you wore such thin lace panties today,” He moaned, beginning to kiss your sex more. “I don’t mind that you’re a jungle down there. It only means that everything will stay longer.”

You didn’t pay attention to a word he said as the pleasure from his praise was beginning to get to your head. Your eyes began to get unfocused, and eventually, you came in your underwear as his kisses quickened.

“Ah!” You moaned, realizing your mistake. He began to feast on the delicious cum served. “Agh! Ha! Fuck! Don’t slurp on it while you’re near me like that!”

He finished the last of your cum and peeled off your underwear. He gently flipped you onto your back and took your baggy shirt off, revealing a beautiful chest. He smiled and kissed your chest until he met your bra.

“You’ve got to show that rack more, darling. It suits you. I’ll buy you a matching set in your favorite color. Of course, I’ll only be able to see it, though,” He proposed, taking off the bra with one hand.

Your arms immediately went to your chest, but he stopped you from covering them up by gently rubbing a nipple.

“Sh, sh, sh, it’s ok, dear. Your chest size doesn’t bother me. It’s beautiful,” He cooed, kissing each breast. “Let me worship your body. You need to learn how much of a goddess you are.”

You nodded yes, but everything about it seemed wrong. But the kind words, the way he complimented you, made you feel loved. It made you feel the way those boys in the novels did. He had done all this work for you. Maybe you should give him a chance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. You’ll only feel a bit of discomfort,” He said, lining his member up with your vaginal opening. His member matched his height and proudly displayed its six inches.

You wanted to look at him, but you couldn’t. Not only had he thrown your glasses across the room, but you couldn’t look him in the face. It felt so humiliating being in this position in your sacred space.

“It’s your glasses, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thrown them. I know how protective you are of them since your last pair got broken by that reckless freshman playing football. Here, I’ll get them for you.” He got up and grabbed the glasses from the floor. He gently placed them on your face, letting you see the adorable face full of love and concern. “Is that better, beautiful?”

“Yeah, it is better. Thank you,” You said, earning a soft and gentle kiss.

He returned to his original position and gently wrapped your legs around his waist. He stuck the tip in and waited for your approval to move further.

“You can move more. I’ll be ok,” You said, trying not to let tears out.

“I’ll be slow,” He put his whole length in and waited for you to adjust.

Your legs tighten around his waist, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. Each thrust released a wave of pleasure, pleas, and moans. Both fed off each other’s arousal and pleasure, until the poor jock got pushed over the edge. He lifted your legs as far back as they could and straddled you, beginning his rapid-fire thrusts. Your genital hairs tangled with his causing more friction and tension with each thrust. Your moans for him and his moans for you echoed through the empty library.

“Hah, oh fuck! I’m cumming!”

“I know, darling! So am I!”

He put both hands on your cheeks and looked at you as his climax approached.

“Let’s cum together!”

He thrust one last time, and you both came. Although he came inside of you, you couldn’t care less. You were his now. Besides, you were taking the pill, and you were always perfect with following the schedule for it.

“I love you, darling, more than you realize.”

You couldn’t help but lay on the floor, naked, next to him and say, “I love you too.”

#yandere jock #smut #x reader #yandere jock X reader #f! reader #football jock #tw noncon #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon #x you smut #yandere smut #yandere noncon #male yandere #yandere dubcon #1k notes

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months

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first and second and third kisses

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'idiots to lovers' rated: T wc: 602 tags: idiots to lovers, frustrating levels of obliviousness, first kiss gone horribly wrong followed by first kiss gone perfect

💏💏💏💏💏💏💏💏💏💏💏💏

He could sit on the couch, where it was comfortable, where it was warm, where it made sense to sit.

Or he could sit on the floor, where the kids had all piled on top of every pillow in the house, looking for a comfort they really only found with each other.

But Eddie was on the couch and he'd been weird all night.

Not with everyone.

In fact, he'd been totally normal and fun and silly with everyone.

Except Steve.

They'd been great. Hanging out all the time, joking around. Steve went to his gigs, got high with him in his van after, usually ended up with his head on his shoulder while Eddie told him made up stories of heroes with bats and kids with hearts of gold.

Eddie sat with him after nightmares, made sure he wasn't alone in his empty house with too many bad memories to keep track of.

They took turns driving the kids everywhere, usually still finding excuses to meet each other at the destination.

And just this morning they'd had breakfast together, pancakes made by Steve, coffee made by Eddie.

Steve had hugged him when he left, like he always did.

He dug his nose into the curve of Eddie's neck like he always did.

But he hadn't pulled away first like usual.

Something had made him purse his lips, something had made him linger, and something had made Eddie tense in his arms before awkwardly pulling away.

Now, hours later, Steve had to wonder if he'd ruined their entire friendship because he was seeking more comfort than Eddie could provide.

Eddie didn't look at him as he chose the couch, the only available spot being the cushion between Eddie and Argyle, who had already fallen asleep with his head on Nancy's shoulder.

Steve could feel the warmth of Eddie despite his cool attitude, but kept his head down, avoiding any potential accidental touch by curling into himself as much as possible.

"Think I need some fresh air," Eddie said suddenly, standing up and leaving before Steve could stop him.

Erica, the only person still awake enough to notice anything, glared at Steve.

"You gonna follow him or are you both just gonna pout about your feelings for the next decade?"

Steve stood up, not even quite sure why, or what he was actually going to do once he was with Eddie.

Eddie was smoking when he joined him, silently sitting next to him on the same pool chair.

"Why'd you do it?" Eddie finally asked, leaning down to put out the cigarette.

"I-" Steve shrugged. "It just felt right. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, man."

He was met with silence.

And then a hand on his cheek, guiding him to look over.

"You should've gone all in," Eddie said before pulling Steve in for a kiss.

Their teeth clashed together painfully, immediately forcing them to break apart with loud groans.

Steve let out a small laugh.

"Slower," he said, cupping the side of Eddie's neck as he leaned in.

His lips ghosted over Eddie's, a small smile breaking across their faces at the same time.

This time, when Steve pulled away, Eddie tugged him back to his resting place, his nose in the curve of Eddie's neck.

He smiled and pursed his lips, leaving the soft kiss he'd intended to earlier.

"We've been kinda stupid," Eddie suggested.

"Today?"

"For months, apparently."

Steve pulled back and frowned.

Then it hit him.

"Erica."

Eddie nodded.

"She's...intuitive."

"She means well."

"I don't think she does, but in this case, it worked out fine anyway."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles

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antiporn-activist · 3 months

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I thought y'all should read this

I have a free trial to News+ so I copy-pasted it for you here. I don't think Jonathan Haidt would object to more people having this info.

Tumblr wouldn't let me post it until i removed all the links to Haidt's sources. You'll have to take my word that everything is sourced.

End the Phone-Based Childhood Now

The environment in which kids grow up today is hostile to human development.

By Jonathan Haidt

Something went suddenly and horribly wrong for adolescents in the early 2010s. By now you’ve likely seen the statistics: Rates of depression and anxiety in the United States—fairly stable in the 2000s—rose by more than 50 percent in many studies from 2010 to 2019. The suicide rate rose 48 percent for adolescents ages 10 to 19. For girls ages 10 to 14, it rose 131 percent.

The problem was not limited to the U.S.: Similar patterns emerged around the same time in Canada, the U.K., Australia, New Zealand, the Nordic countries, and beyond. By a variety of measures and in a variety of countries, the members of Generation Z (born in and after 1996) are suffering from anxiety, depression, self-harm, and related disorders at levels higher than any other generation for which we have data.

The decline in mental health is just one of many signs that something went awry. Loneliness and friendlessness among American teens began to surge around 2012. Academic achievement went down, too. According to “The Nation’s Report Card,” scores in reading and math began to decline for U.S. students after 2012, reversing decades of slow but generally steady increase. PISA, the major international measure of educational trends, shows that declines in math, reading, and science happened globally, also beginning in the early 2010s.

As the oldest members of Gen Z reach their late 20s, their troubles are carrying over into adulthood. Young adults are dating less, having less sex, and showing less interest in ever having children than prior generations. They are more likelyto live with their parents. They were less likely to get jobs as teens, and managers say they are harder to work with. Many of these trends began with earlier generations, but most of them accelerated with Gen Z.

Surveys show that members of Gen Z are shyer and more risk averse than previous generations, too, and risk aversion may make them less ambitious. In an interview last May, OpenAI co-founder Sam Altman and Stripe co-founder Patrick Collison noted that, for the first time since the 1970s, none of Silicon Valley’s preeminent entrepreneurs are under 30. “Something has really gone wrong,” Altman said. In a famously young industry, he was baffled by the sudden absence of great founders in their 20s.

Generations are not monolithic, of course. Many young people are flourishing. Taken as a whole, however, Gen Z is in poor mental health and is lagging behind previous generations on many important metrics. And if a generation is doing poorly––if it is more anxious and depressed and is starting families, careers, and important companies at a substantially lower rate than previous generations––then the sociological and economic consequences will be profound for the entire society.

What happened in the early 2010s that altered adolescent development and worsened mental health? Theories abound, but the fact that similar trends are found in many countries worldwide means that events and trends that are specific to the United States cannot be the main story.

I think the answer can be stated simply, although the underlying psychology is complex: Those were the years when adolescents in rich countries traded in their flip phones for smartphones and moved much more of their social lives online—particularly onto social-media platforms designed for virality and addiction. Once young people began carrying the entire internet in their pockets, available to them day and night, it altered their daily experiences and developmental pathways across the board. Friendship, dating, sexuality, exercise, sleep, academics, politics, family dynamics, identity—all were affected. Life changed rapidly for younger children, too, as they began to get access to their parents’ smartphones and, later, got their own iPads, laptops, and even smartphones during elementary school.

As a social psychologist who has long studied social and moral development, I have been involved in debates about the effects of digital technology for years. Typically, the scientific questions have been framed somewhat narrowly, to make them easier to address with data. For example, do adolescents who consume more social media have higher levels of depression? Does using a smartphone just before bedtime interfere with sleep? The answer to these questions is usually found to be yes, although the size of the relationship is often statistically small, which has led some researchers to conclude that these new technologies are not responsible for the gigantic increases in mental illness that began in the early 2010s.

But before we can evaluate the evidence on any one potential avenue of harm, we need to step back and ask a broader question: What is childhood––including adolescence––and how did it change when smartphones moved to the center of it? If we take a more holistic view of what childhood is and what young children, tweens, and teens need to do to mature into competent adults, the picture becomes much clearer. Smartphone-based life, it turns out, alters or interferes with a great number of developmental processes.

The intrusion of smartphones and social media are not the only changes that have deformed childhood. There’s an important backstory, beginning as long ago as the 1980s, when we started systematically depriving children and adolescents of freedom, unsupervised play, responsibility, and opportunities for risk taking, all of which promote competence, maturity, and mental health. But the change in childhood accelerated in the early 2010s, when an already independence-deprived generation was lured into a new virtual universe that seemed safe to parents but in fact is more dangerous, in many respects, than the physical world.

My claim is that the new phone-based childhood that took shape roughly 12 years ago is making young people sick and blocking their progress to flourishing in adulthood. We need a dramatic cultural correction, and we need it now.

1. The Decline of Play and Independence

Human brains are extraordinarily large compared with those of other primates, and human childhoods are extraordinarily long, too, to give those large brains time to wire up within a particular culture. A child’s brain is already 90 percent of its adult size by about age 6. The next 10 or 15 years are about learning norms and mastering skills—physical, analytical, creative, and social. As children and adolescents seek out experiences and practice a wide variety of behaviors, the synapses and neurons that are used frequently are retained while those that are used less often disappear. Neurons that fire together wire together, as brain researchers say.

Brain development is sometimes said to be “experience-expectant,” because specific parts of the brain show increased plasticity during periods of life when an animal’s brain can “expect” to have certain kinds of experiences. You can see this with baby geese, who will imprint on whatever mother-sized object moves in their vicinity just after they hatch. You can see it with human children, who are able to learn languages quickly and take on the local accent, but only through early puberty; after that, it’s hard to learn a language and sound like a native speaker. There is also some evidence of a sensitive period for cultural learning more generally. Japanese children who spent a few years in California in the 1970s came to feel “American” in their identity and ways of interacting only if they attended American schools for a few years between ages 9 and 15. If they left before age 9, there was no lasting impact. If they didn’t arrive until they were 15, it was too late; they didn’t come to feel American.

Human childhood is an extended cultural apprenticeship with different tasks at different ages all the way through puberty. Once we see it this way, we can identify factors that promote or impede the right kinds of learning at each age. For children of all ages, one of the most powerful drivers of learning is the strong motivation to play. Play is the work of childhood, and all young mammals have the same job: to wire up their brains by playing vigorously and often, practicing the moves and skills they’ll need as adults. Kittens will play-pounce on anything that looks like a mouse tail. Human children will play games such as tag and sharks and minnows, which let them practice both their predator skills and their escaping-from-predator skills. Adolescents will play sports with greater intensity, and will incorporate playfulness into their social interactions—flirting, teasing, and developing inside jokes that bond friends together. Hundreds of studies on young rats, monkeys, and humans show that young mammals want to play, need to play, and end up socially, cognitively, and emotionally impaired when they are deprived of play.

One crucial aspect of play is physical risk taking. Children and adolescents must take risks and fail—often—in environments in which failure is not very costly. This is how they extend their abilities, overcome their fears, learn to estimate risk, and learn to cooperate in order to take on larger challenges later. The ever-present possibility of getting hurt while running around, exploring, play-fighting, or getting into a real conflict with another group adds an element of thrill, and thrilling play appears to be the most effective kind for overcoming childhood anxieties and building social, emotional, and physical competence. The desire for risk and thrill increases in the teen years, when failure might carry more serious consequences. Children of all ages need to choose the risk they are ready for at a given moment. Young people who are deprived of opportunities for risk taking and independent exploration will, on average, develop into more anxious and risk-averse adults.

Human childhood and adolescence evolved outdoors, in a physical world full of dangers and opportunities. Its central activities––play, exploration, and intense socializing––were largely unsupervised by adults, allowing children to make their own choices, resolve their own conflicts, and take care of one another. Shared adventures and shared adversity bound young people together into strong friendship clusters within which they mastered the social dynamics of small groups, which prepared them to master bigger challenges and larger groups later on.

And then we changed childhood.

The changes started slowly in the late 1970s and ’80s, before the arrival of the internet, as many parents in the U.S. grew fearful that their children would be harmed or abducted if left unsupervised. Such crimes have always been extremely rare, but they loomed larger in parents’ minds thanks in part to rising levels of street crime combined with the arrival of cable TV, which enabled round-the-clock coverage of missing-children cases. A general decline in social capital––the degree to which people knew and trusted their neighbors and institutions––exacerbated parental fears. Meanwhile, rising competition for college admissions encouraged more intensive forms of parenting. In the 1990s, American parents began pulling their children indoors or insisting that afternoons be spent in adult-run enrichment activities. Free play, independent exploration, and teen-hangout time declined.

In recent decades, seeing unchaperoned children outdoors has become so novel that when one is spotted in the wild, some adults feel it is their duty to call the police. In 2015, the Pew Research Center found that parents, on average, believed that children should be at least 10 years old to play unsupervised in front of their house, and that kids should be 14 before being allowed to go unsupervised to a public park. Most of these same parents had enjoyed joyous and unsupervised outdoor play by the age of 7 or 8.

2. The Virtual World Arrives in Two Waves

The internet, which now dominates the lives of young people, arrived in two waves of linked technologies. The first one did little harm to Millennials. The second one swallowed Gen Z whole.

The first wave came ashore in the 1990s with the arrival of dial-up internet access, which made personal computers good for something beyond word processing and basic games. By 2003, 55 percent of American households had a computer with (slow) internet access. Rates of adolescent depression, loneliness, and other measures of poor mental health did not rise in this first wave. If anything, they went down a bit. Millennial teens (born 1981 through 1995), who were the first to go through puberty with access to the internet, were psychologically healthier and happier, on average, than their older siblings or parents in Generation X (born 1965 through 1980).

The second wave began to rise in the 2000s, though its full force didn’t hit until the early 2010s. It began rather innocently with the introduction of social-media platforms that helped people connect with their friends. Posting and sharing content became much easier with sites such as Friendster (launched in 2003), Myspace (2003), and Facebook (2004).

Teens embraced social media soon after it came out, but the time they could spend on these sites was limited in those early years because the sites could only be accessed from a computer, often the family computer in the living room. Young people couldn’t access social media (and the rest of the internet) from the school bus, during class time, or while hanging out with friends outdoors. Many teens in the early-to-mid-2000s had cellphones, but these were basic phones (many of them flip phones) that had no internet access. Typing on them was difficult––they had only number keys. Basic phones were tools that helped Millennials meet up with one another in person or talk with each other one-on-one. I have seen no evidence to suggest that basic cellphones harmed the mental health of Millennials.

It was not until the introduction of the iPhone (2007), the App Store (2008), and high-speed internet (which reached 50 percent of American homes in 2007)—and the corresponding pivot to mobile made by many providers of social media, video games, and porn—that it became possible for adolescents to spend nearly every waking moment online. The extraordinary synergy among these innovations was what powered the second technological wave. In 2011, only 23 percent of teens had a smartphone. By 2015, that number had risen to 73 percent, and a quarter of teens said they were online “almost constantly.” Their younger siblings in elementary school didn’t usually have their own smartphones, but after its release in 2010, the iPad quickly became a staple of young children’s daily lives. It was in this brief period, from 2010 to 2015, that childhood in America (and many other countries) was rewired into a form that was more sedentary, solitary, virtual, and incompatible with healthy human development.

3. Techno-optimism and the Birth of the Phone-Based Childhood

The phone-based childhood created by that second wave—including not just smartphones themselves, but all manner of internet-connected devices, such as tablets, laptops, video-game consoles, and smartwatches—arrived near the end of a period of enormous optimism about digital technology. The internet came into our lives in the mid-1990s, soon after the fall of the Soviet Union. By the end of that decade, it was widely thought that the web would be an ally of democracy and a slayer of tyrants. When people are connected to each other, and to all the information in the world, how could any dictator keep them down?

In the 2000s, Silicon Valley and its world-changing inventions were a source of pride and excitement in America. Smart and ambitious young people around the world wanted to move to the West Coast to be part of the digital revolution. Tech-company founders such as Steve Jobs and Sergey Brin were lauded as gods, or at least as modern Prometheans, bringing humans godlike powers. The Arab Spring bloomed in 2011 with the help of decentralized social platforms, including Twitter and Facebook. When pundits and entrepreneurs talked about the power of social media to transform society, it didn’t sound like a dark prophecy.

You have to put yourself back in this heady time to understand why adults acquiesced so readily to the rapid transformation of childhood. Many parents had concerns, even then, about what their children were doing online, especially because of the internet’s ability to put children in contact with strangers. But there was also a lot of excitement about the upsides of this new digital world. If computers and the internet were the vanguards of progress, and if young people––widely referred to as “digital natives”––were going to live their lives entwined with these technologies, then why not give them a head start? I remember how exciting it was to see my 2-year-old son master the touch-and-swipe interface of my first iPhone in 2008. I thought I could see his neurons being woven together faster as a result of the stimulation it brought to his brain, compared to the passivity of watching television or the slowness of building a block tower. I thought I could see his future job prospects improving.

Touchscreen devices were also a godsend for harried parents. Many of us discovered that we could have peace at a restaurant, on a long car trip, or at home while making dinner or replying to emails if we just gave our children what they most wanted: our smartphones and tablets. We saw that everyone else was doing it and figured it must be okay.

It was the same for older children, desperate to join their friends on social-media platforms, where the minimum age to open an account was set by law to 13, even though no research had been done to establish the safety of these products for minors. Because the platforms did nothing (and still do nothing) to verify the stated age of new-account applicants, any 10-year-old could open multiple accounts without parental permission or knowledge, and many did. Facebook and later Instagram became places where many sixth and seventh graders were hanging out and socializing. If parents did find out about these accounts, it was too late. Nobody wanted their child to be isolated and alone, so parents rarely forced their children to shut down their accounts.

We had no idea what we were doing.

4. The High Cost of a Phone-Based Childhood

In Walden, his 1854 reflection on simple living, Henry David Thoreau wrote, “The cost of a thing is the amount of … life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.” It’s an elegant formulation of what economists would later call the opportunity cost of any choice—all of the things you can no longer do with your money and time once you’ve committed them to something else. So it’s important that we grasp just how much of a young person’s day is now taken up by their devices.

The numbers are hard to believe. The most recent Gallup data show that American teens spend about five hours a day just on social-media platforms (including watching videos on TikTok and YouTube). Add in all the other phone- and screen-based activities, and the number rises to somewhere between seven and nine hours a day, on average. The numbers are even higher in single-parent and low-income families, and among Black, Hispanic, and Native American families.

In Thoreau’s terms, how much of life is exchanged for all this screen time? Arguably, most of it. Everything else in an adolescent’s day must get squeezed down or eliminated entirely to make room for the vast amount of content that is consumed, and for the hundreds of “friends,” “followers,” and other network connections that must be serviced with texts, posts, comments, likes, snaps, and direct messages. I recently surveyed my students at NYU, and most of them reported that the very first thing they do when they open their eyes in the morning is check their texts, direct messages, and social-media feeds. It’s also the last thing they do before they close their eyes at night. And it’s a lot of what they do in between.

The amount of time that adolescents spend sleeping declined in the early 2010s, and many studies tie sleep loss directly to the use of devices around bedtime, particularly when they’re used to scroll through social media. Exercise declined, too, which is unfortunate because exercise, like sleep, improves both mental and physical health. Book reading has been declining for decades, pushed aside by digital alternatives, but the decline, like so much else, sped up in the early 2010s. With passive entertainment always available, adolescent minds likely wander less than they used to; contemplation and imagination might be placed on the list of things winnowed down or crowded out.

But perhaps the most devastating cost of the new phone-based childhood was the collapse of time spent interacting with other people face-to-face. A study of how Americans spend their time found that, before 2010, young people (ages 15 to 24) reported spending far more time with their friends (about two hours a day, on average, not counting time together at school) than did older people (who spent just 30 to 60 minutes with friends). Time with friends began decreasing for young people in the 2000s, but the drop accelerated in the 2010s, while it barely changed for older people. By 2019, young people’s time with friends had dropped to just 67 minutes a day. It turns out that Gen Z had been socially distancing for many years and had mostly completed the project by the time COVID-19 struck.

You might question the importance of this decline. After all, isn’t much of this online time spent interacting with friends through texting, social media, and multiplayer video games? Isn’t that just as good?

Some of it surely is, and virtual interactions offer unique benefits too, especially for young people who are geographically or socially isolated. But in general, the virtual world lacks many of the features that make human interactions in the real world nutritious, as we might say, for physical, social, and emotional development. In particular, real-world relationships and social interactions are characterized by four features—typical for hundreds of thousands of years—that online interactions either distort or erase.

First, real-world interactions are embodied, meaning that we use our hands and facial expressions to communicate, and we learn to respond to the body language of others. Virtual interactions, in contrast, mostly rely on language alone. No matter how many emojis are offered as compensation, the elimination of communication channels for which we have eons of evolutionary programming is likely to produce adults who are less comfortable and less skilled at interacting in person.

Second, real-world interactions are synchronous; they happen at the same time. As a result, we learn subtle cues about timing and conversational turn taking. Synchronous interactions make us feel closer to the other person because that’s what getting “in sync” does. Texts, posts, and many other virtual interactions lack synchrony. There is less real laughter, more room for misinterpretation, and more stress after a comment that gets no immediate response.

Third, real-world interactions primarily involve one‐to‐one communication, or sometimes one-to-several. But many virtual communications are broadcast to a potentially huge audience. Online, each person can engage in dozens of asynchronous interactions in parallel, which interferes with the depth achieved in all of them. The sender’s motivations are different, too: With a large audience, one’s reputation is always on the line; an error or poor performance can damage social standing with large numbers of peers. These communications thus tend to be more performative and anxiety-inducing than one-to-one conversations.

Finally, real-world interactions usually take place within communities that have a high bar for entry and exit, so people are strongly motivated to invest in relationships and repair rifts when they happen. But in many virtual networks, people can easily block others or quit when they are displeased. Relationships within such networks are usually more disposable.

These unsatisfying and anxiety-producing features of life online should be recognizable to most adults. Online interactions can bring out antisocial behavior that people would never display in their offline communities. But if life online takes a toll on adults, just imagine what it does to adolescents in the early years of puberty, when their “experience expectant” brains are rewiring based on feedback from their social interactions.

Kids going through puberty online are likely to experience far more social comparison, self-consciousness, public shaming, and chronic anxiety than adolescents in previous generations, which could potentially set developing brains into a habitual state of defensiveness. The brain contains systems that are specialized for approach (when opportunities beckon) and withdrawal (when threats appear or seem likely). People can be in what we might call “discover mode” or “defend mode” at any moment, but generally not both. The two systems together form a mechanism for quickly adapting to changing conditions, like a thermostat that can activate either a heating system or a cooling system as the temperature fluctuates. Some people’s internal thermostats are generally set to discover mode, and they flip into defend mode only when clear threats arise. These people tend to see the world as full of opportunities. They are happier and less anxious. Other people’s internal thermostats are generally set to defend mode, and they flip into discover mode only when they feel unusually safe. They tend to see the world as full of threats and are more prone to anxiety and depressive disorders.

A simple way to understand the differences between Gen Z and previous generations is that people born in and after 1996 have internal thermostats that were shifted toward defend mode. This is why life on college campuses changed so suddenly when Gen Z arrived, beginning around 2014. Students began requesting “safe spaces” and trigger warnings. They were highly sensitive to “microaggressions” and sometimes claimed that words were “violence.” These trends mystified those of us in older generations at the time, but in hindsight, it all makes sense. Gen Z students found words, ideas, and ambiguous social encounters more threatening than had previous generations of students because we had fundamentally altered their psychological development.

5. So Many Harms

The debate around adolescents’ use of smartphones and social media typically revolves around mental health, and understandably so. But the harms that have resulted from transforming childhood so suddenly and heedlessly go far beyondmental health. I’ve touched on some of them—social awkwardness, reduced self-confidence, and a more sedentary childhood. Here are three additional harms.

Fragmented Attention, Disrupted Learning

Staying on task while sitting at a computer is hard enough for an adult with a fully developed prefrontal cortex. It is far more difficult for adolescents in front of their laptop trying to do homework. They are probably less intrinsically motivated to stay on task. They’re certainly less able, given their undeveloped prefrontal cortex, and hence it’s easy for any company with an app to lure them away with an offer of social validation or entertainment. Their phones are pinging constantly—one study found that the typical adolescent now gets 237 notifications a day, roughly 15 every waking hour. Sustained attention is essential for doing almost anything big, creative, or valuable, yet young people find their attention chopped up into little bits by notifications offering the possibility of high-pleasure, low-effort digital experiences.

It even happens in the classroom. Studies confirm that when students have access to their phones during class time, they use them, especially for texting and checking social media, and their grades and learning suffer. This might explain why benchmark test scores began to decline in the U.S. and around the world in the early 2010s—well before the pandemic hit.

Addiction and Social Withdrawal

The neural basis of behavioral addiction to social media or video games is not exactly the same as chemical addiction to cocaine or opioids. Nonetheless, they all involve abnormally heavy and sustained activation of dopamine neurons and reward pathways. Over time, the brain adapts to these high levels of dopamine; when the child is not engaged in digital activity, their brain doesn’t have enough dopamine, and the child experiences withdrawal symptoms. These generally include anxiety, insomnia, and intense irritability. Kids with these kinds of behavioral addictions often become surly and aggressive, and withdraw from their families into their bedrooms and devices.

Social-media and gaming platforms were designed to hook users. How successful are they? How many kids suffer from digital addictions?

The main addiction risks for boys seem to be video games and porn. “Internet gaming disorder,” which was added to the main diagnosis manual of psychiatry in 2013 as a condition for further study, describes “significant impairment or distress” in several aspects of life, along with many hallmarks of addiction, including an inability to reduce usage despite attempts to do so. Estimates for the prevalence of IGD range from 7 to 15 percent among adolescent boys and young men. As for porn, a nationally representative survey of American adults published in 2019 found that 7 percent of American men agreed or strongly agreed with the statement “I am addicted to pornography”—and the rates were higher for the youngest men.

Girls have much lower rates of addiction to video games and porn, but they use social media more intensely than boys do. A study of teens in 29 nations found that between 5 and 15 percent of adolescents engage in what is called “problematic social media use,” which includes symptoms such as preoccupation, withdrawal symptoms, neglect of other areas of life, and lying to parents and friends about time spent on social media. That study did not break down results by gender, but many others have found that rates of “problematic use” are higher for girls.

I don’t want to overstate the risks: Most teens do not become addicted to their phones and video games. But across multiple studies and across genders, rates of problematic use come out in the ballpark of 5 to 15 percent. Is there any other consumer product that parents would let their children use relatively freely if they knew that something like one in 10 kids would end up with a pattern of habitual and compulsive use that disrupted various domains of life and looked a lot like an addiction?

The Decay of Wisdom and the Loss of Meaning

During that crucial sensitive period for cultural learning, from roughly ages 9 through 15, we should be especially thoughtful about who is socializing our children for adulthood. Instead, that’s when most kids get their first smartphone and sign themselves up (with or without parental permission) to consume rivers of content from random strangers. Much of that content is produced by other adolescents, in blocks of a few minutes or a few seconds.

This rerouting of enculturating content has created a generation that is largely cut off from older generations and, to some extent, from the accumulated wisdom of humankind, including knowledge about how to live a flourishing life. Adolescents spend less time steeped in their local or national culture. They are coming of age in a confusing, placeless, ahistorical maelstrom of 30-second stories curated by algorithms designed to mesmerize them. Without solid knowledge of the past and the filtering of good ideas from bad––a process that plays out over many generations––young people will be more prone to believe whatever terrible ideas become popular around them, which might explain why videos showing young people reacting positively to Osama bin Laden’s thoughts about America were trending on TikTok last fall.

All this is made worse by the fact that so much of digital public life is an unending supply of micro dramas about somebody somewhere in our country of 340 million people who did something that can fuel an outrage cycle, only to be pushed aside by the next. It doesn’t add up to anything and leaves behind only a distorted sense of human nature and affairs.

When our public life becomes fragmented, ephemeral, and incomprehensible, it is a recipe for anomie, or normlessness. The great French sociologist Émile Durkheim showed long ago that a society that fails to bind its people together with some shared sense of sacredness and common respect for rules and norms is not a society of great individual freedom; it is, rather, a place where disoriented individuals have difficulty setting goals and exerting themselves to achieve them. Durkheim argued that anomie was a major driver of suicide rates in European countries. Modern scholars continue to draw on his work to understand suicide rates today.

Durkheim’s observations are crucial for understanding what happened in the early 2010s. A long-running survey of American teens found that, from 1990 to 2010, high-school seniors became slightly less likely to agree with statements such as “Life often feels meaningless.” But as soon as they adopted a phone-based life and many began to live in the whirlpool of social media, where no stability can be found, every measure of despair increased. From 2010 to 2019, the number who agreed that their lives felt “meaningless” increased by about 70 percent, to more than one in five.

6. Young People Don’t Like Their Phone-Based Lives

How can I be confident that the epidemic of adolescent mental illness was kicked off by the arrival of the phone-based childhood? Skeptics point to other events as possible culprits, including the 2008 global financial crisis, global warming, the 2012 Sandy Hook school shooting and the subsequent active-shooter drills, rising academic pressures, and the opioid epidemic. But while these events might have been contributing factors in some countries, none can explain both the timing and international scope of the disaster.

An additional source of evidence comes from Gen Z itself. With all the talk of regulating social media, raising age limits, and getting phones out of schools, you might expect to find many members of Gen Z writing and speaking out in opposition. I’ve looked for such arguments and found hardly any. In contrast, many young adults tell stories of devastation.

Freya India, a 24-year-old British essayist who writes about girls, explains how social-media sites carry girls off to unhealthy places: “It seems like your child is simply watching some makeup tutorials, following some mental health influencers, or experimenting with their identity. But let me tell you: they are on a conveyor belt to someplace bad. Whatever insecurity or vulnerability they are struggling with, they will be pushed further and further into it.” She continues:

Gen Z were the guinea pigs in this uncontrolled global social experiment. We were the first to have our vulnerabilities and insecurities fed into a machine that magnified and refracted them back at us, all the time, before we had any sense of who we were. We didn’t just grow up with algorithms. They raised us. They rearranged our faces. Shaped our identities. Convinced us we were sick.

Rikki Schlott, a 23-year-old American journalist and co-author of The Canceling of the American Mind, writes,

"The day-to-day life of a typical teen or tween today would be unrecognizable to someone who came of age before the smartphone arrived. Zoomers are spending an average of 9 hours daily in this screen-time doom loop—desperate to forget the gaping holes they’re bleeding out of, even if just for … 9 hours a day. Uncomfortable silence could be time to ponder why they’re so miserable in the first place. Drowning it out with algorithmic white noise is far easier."

A 27-year-old man who spent his adolescent years addicted (his word) to video games and pornography sent me this reflection on what that did to him:

I missed out on a lot of stuff in life—a lot of socialization. I feel the effects now: meeting new people, talking to people. I feel that my interactions are not as smooth and fluid as I want. My knowledge of the world (geography, politics, etc.) is lacking. I didn’t spend time having conversations or learning about sports. I often feel like a hollow operating system.

Or consider what Facebook found in a research project involving focus groups of young people, revealed in 2021 by the whistleblower Frances Haugen: “Teens blame Instagram for increases in the rates of anxiety and depression among teens,” an internal document said. “This reaction was unprompted and consistent across all groups.”

7. Collective-Action Problems

Social-media companies such as Meta, TikTok, and Snap are often compared to tobacco companies, but that’s not really fair to the tobacco industry. It’s true that companies in both industries marketed harmful products to children and tweaked their products for maximum customer retention (that is, addiction), but there’s a big difference: Teens could and did choose, in large numbers, not to smoke. Even at the peak of teen cigarette use, in 1997, nearly two-thirds of high-school students did not smoke.

Social media, in contrast, applies a lot more pressure on nonusers, at a much younger age and in a more insidious way. Once a few students in any middle school lie about their age and open accounts at age 11 or 12, they start posting photos and comments about themselves and other students. Drama ensues. The pressure on everyone else to join becomes intense. Even a girl who knows, consciously, that Instagram can foster beauty obsession, anxiety, and eating disorders might sooner take those risks than accept the seeming certainty of being out of the loop, clueless, and excluded. And indeed, if she resists while most of her classmates do not, she might, in fact, be marginalized, which puts her at risk for anxiety and depression, though via a different pathway than the one taken by those who use social media heavily. In this way, social media accomplishes a remarkable feat: It even harms adolescents who do not use it.

A recent study led by the University of Chicago economist Leonardo Bursztyn captured the dynamics of the social-media trap precisely. The researchers recruited more than 1,000 college students and asked them how much they’d need to be paid to deactivate their accounts on either Instagram or TikTok for four weeks. That’s a standard economist’s question to try to compute the net value of a product to society. On average, students said they’d need to be paid roughly $50 ($59 for TikTok, $47 for Instagram) to deactivate whichever platform they were asked about. Then the experimenters told the students that they were going to try to get most of the others in their school to deactivate that same platform, offering to pay them to do so as well, and asked, Now how much would you have to be paid to deactivate, if most others did so? The answer, on average, was less than zero. In each case, most students were willing to pay to have that happen.

Social media is all about network effects. Most students are only on it because everyone else is too. Most of them would prefer that nobody be on these platforms. Later in the study, students were asked directly, “Would you prefer to live in a world without Instagram [or TikTok]?” A majority of students said yes––58 percent for each app.

This is the textbook definition of what social scientists call a collective-action problem. It’s what happens when a group would be better off if everyone in the group took a particular action, but each actor is deterred from acting, because unless the others do the same, the personal cost outweighs the benefit. Fishermen considering limiting their catch to avoid wiping out the local fish population are caught in this same kind of trap. If no one else does it too, they just lose profit.

Cigarettes trapped individual smokers with a biological addiction. Social media has trapped an entire generation in a collective-action problem. Early app developers deliberately and knowingly exploited the psychological weaknesses and insecurities of young people to pressure them to consume a product that, upon reflection, many wish they could use less, or not at all.

8. Four Norms to Break Four Traps

Young people and their parents are stuck in at least four collective-action traps. Each is hard to escape for an individual family, but escape becomes much easier if families, schools, and communities coordinate and act together. Here are four norms that would roll back the phone-based childhood. I believe that any community that adopts all four will see substantial improvements in youth mental health within two years.

No smartphones before high school

The trap here is that each child thinks they need a smartphone because “everyone else” has one, and many parents give in because they don’t want their child to feel excluded. But if no one else had a smartphone—or even if, say, only half of the child’s sixth-grade class had one—parents would feel more comfortable providing a basic flip phone (or no phone at all). Delaying round-the-clock internet access until ninth grade (around age 14) as a national or community norm would help to protect adolescents during the very vulnerable first few years of puberty. According to a 2022 British study, these are the years when social-media use is most correlated with poor mental health. Family policies about tablets, laptops, and video-game consoles should be aligned with smartphone restrictions to prevent overuse of other screen activities.

No social media before 16

The trap here, as with smartphones, is that each adolescent feels a strong need to open accounts on TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, and other platforms primarily because that’s where most of their peers are posting and gossiping. But if the majority of adolescents were not on these accounts until they were 16, families and adolescents could more easily resist the pressure to sign up. The delay would not mean that kids younger than 16 could never watch videos on TikTok or YouTube—only that they could not open accounts, give away their data, post their own content, and let algorithms get to know them and their preferences.

Phone‐free schools

Most schools claim that they ban phones, but this usually just means that students aren’t supposed to take their phone out of their pocket during class. Research shows that most students do use their phones during class time. They also use them during lunchtime, free periods, and breaks between classes––times when students could and should be interacting with their classmates face-to-face. The only way to get students’ minds off their phones during the school day is to require all students to put their phones (and other devices that can send or receive texts) into a phone locker or locked pouch at the start of the day. Schools that have gone phone-free always seem to report that it has improved the culture, making students more attentive in class and more interactive with one another. Published studies back them up.

More independence, free play, and responsibility in the real world

Many parents are afraid to give their children the level of independence and responsibility they themselves enjoyed when they were young, even though rates of homicide, drunk driving, and other physical threats to children are way down in recent decades. Part of the fear comes from the fact that parents look at each other to determine what is normal and therefore safe, and they see few examples of families acting as if a 9-year-old can be trusted to walk to a store without a chaperone. But if many parents started sending their children out to play or run errands, then the norms of what is safe and accepted would change quickly. So would ideas about what constitutes “good parenting.” And if more parents trusted their children with more responsibility––for example, by asking their kids to do more to help out, or to care for others––then the pervasive sense of uselessness now found in surveys of high-school students might begin to dissipate.

It would be a mistake to overlook this fourth norm. If parents don’t replace screen time with real-world experiences involving friends and independent activity, then banning devices will feel like deprivation, not the opening up of a world of opportunities.

The main reason why the phone-based childhood is so harmful is because it pushes aside everything else. Smartphones are experience blockers. Our ultimate goal should not be to remove screens entirely, nor should it be to return childhood to exactly the way it was in 1960. Rather, it should be to create a version of childhood and adolescence that keeps young people anchored in the real world while flourishing in the digital age.

9. What Are We Waiting For?

An essential function of government is to solve collective-action problems. Congress could solve or help solve the ones I’ve highlighted—for instance, by raising the age of “internet adulthood” to 16 and requiring tech companies to keep underage children off their sites.

In recent decades, however, Congress has not been good at addressing public concerns when the solutions would displease a powerful and deep-pocketed industry. Governors and state legislators have been much more effective, and their successes might let us evaluate how well various reforms work. But the bottom line is that to change norms, we’re going to need to do most of the work ourselves, in neighborhood groups, schools, and other communities.

There are now hundreds of organizations––most of them started by mothers who saw what smartphones had done to their children––that are working to roll back the phone-based childhood or promote a more independent, real-world childhood. (I have assembled a list of many of them.) One that I co-founded, at LetGrow.org, suggests a variety of simple programs for parents or schools, such as play club (schools keep the playground open at least one day a week before or after school, and kids sign up for phone-free, mixed-age, unstructured play as a regular weekly activity) and the Let Grow Experience (a series of homework assignments in which students––with their parents’ consent––choose something to do on their own that they’ve never done before, such as walk the dog, climb a tree, walk to a store, or cook dinner).

Parents are fed up with what childhood has become. Many are tired of having daily arguments about technologies that were designed to grab hold of their children’s attention and not let go. But the phone-based childhood is not inevitable.

The four norms I have proposed cost almost nothing to implement, they cause no clear harm to anyone, and while they could be supported by new legislation, they can be instilled even without it. We can begin implementing all of them right away, this year, especially in communities with good cooperation between schools and parents. A single memo from a principal asking parents to delay smartphones and social media, in support of the school’s effort to improve mental health by going phone free, would catalyze collective action and reset the community’s norms.

We didn’t know what we were doing in the early 2010s. Now we do. It’s time to end the phone-based childhood.

This article is adapted from Jonathan Haidt’s forthcoming book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness.

#phones are bad #childhood

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talkdutchtome · 10 months

Text

You Should Have Said No Chapter Two - It's Nice to Have a Friend

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )

summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.

inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . it's nice to have a friend- taylor swift)

warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)

series masterlist . . . available here )

A banging came from the front door, jolting you awake and making you fall off the sofa in the process. When Pierre left you decided the best thing to do was sleep, not wanting to be awake and deal with the crushing pain, but after 30 minutes of writhing around in bed, the scent of Pierre lingering on the sheets, you realised that sleeping in the bed you shared with your fiancé was going to be impossible, so you resorted to the sofa.

The banging started again, worried it was Pierre coming back, you ignored it. “Y/N let me in, Y/N” You heard a voice call, a voice that didn’t belong to Pierre. It was Max’s voice. You stood up and began walking to the door, you stopped at a mirror in the hallway looking at your reflection. Your hair was messy, your face red and blotchy, your eyes swollen from crying, black mascara tears stained on your cheeks. You thought about tiding yourself up a bit, not wanting to look too pathetic when you open the door; but you quickly realised that it was a lost cause and continued walking to the door.

“Y/N, hi” Max spoke as the door swung open, looking at you with soft eyes. He wanted to reach up to you and pull you into a bear hug, lord knows it looked like you needed it. But he decided not to, worried that it would make you uncomfortable.

“Um hi Max, what are you doing here?” You asked, genuinely confused why he was stood at your door, he told you because you deserved to know but he was Pierre’s friend, his former teammate.

“I wanted to-“ he started and then paused “Can I come in?”

You opened the door wider and step to the side allowing him to enter, silently answering his question.

“How did you know where w- where I live?” You asked puzzled, Max and Pierre hadn’t been as close as they once were over the past few years so he hasn’t been to your apartment before.

“I phoned Charles, I was worried about you when you hung up the phone and I thought, well I thought if I were in your position, I wouldn’t want to be alone” he spoke, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

“When you spoke to Charles did you tell him?” You asked.

“No, I didn’t, but he already knew, I guess, he asked me to give you a hug from him.” You smiled at the Dutchman’s words, Charles is Pierre’s best friend so even though that’s who Pierre would have gone to straight away, looking for support, Charles still had you in his thoughts, truly caring for you. The silence sat in the room and made its presence ever clear, this being only one of a few if any conversations just between the two of you, aside of course from the conversation you had with him earlier in the day, the one that caused your world to come crashing down. Feeling nervous, you began to play with the ring sat on your left hand, you didn’t even clock the significance until you saw Max looking down at the ring. The ring Pierre gave you months ago when he asked you to marry him, when he told you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You thought about taking the ring off, you know you should. You definitely aren’t engaged anymore, but for some reason you can’t, not wanting to let go of that part of your life yet.

You looked up to find Max watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Have you eaten today?” He asks you and that takes you by surprise, you weren’t sure what he was going to say to you after watching you so intently but that certainly wasn’t it.

“No, I uh no I haven’t” he stood up and began walking to the kitchen, “May I?” He asks gesturing towards the oven. Was he asking if he could cook for you? You nodded slowly, still unsure what he was doing here. He began after seeing your confirmation, starting with cleaning up the mess from the breakfast you had started to make this morning. For a second you want to ask him to stop, not to clean up and get rid of the last thing you did before your life changed forever. You don’t though, realising you can’t keep burnt bacon as a souvenir from a better time. Snapping out from your thoughts you see Max begin making a pasta dish, for a second you catch yourself smiling, this man had absolutely no loyalties to you, he didn’t have betray Pierre and tell you what happened, but he did. He didn’t have to come and check up on you, but he did. He certainly didn’t have to look after you and make sure you eat, but that’s what he was doing.

“You go and sit down; I’ll bring this through when I’m done”.

You smiled again before following his instructions.

He walked into the room 15 minutes later, carrying a delicious smelling plate of food in. “Here” he passes it to you, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he did so. “Thank you” you said smiling at him before beginning to eat. He sat with you in silence again, but this time the awkwardness wasn’t there, instead it was comfortable. Max knew that you probably weren’t in the mood for talking, but he also knew you probably didn’t want to be alone either, so he was more than happy to sit with you in silent company.

You sat next to each other on the sofa for a while longer, almost exclusively in silence, until Max noticed you started to yawn. “I should leave then, I hope you’re okay, please phone me if you need me, I’ll make sure to keep my phone on loud.” He said to you and again you were taken aback by the care shown by a man who owed nothing to you. You thanked him and assured him you would let him know if you needed him. He nodded and began walking to the door. You hesitated before speaking “Max wait.” He turned back around and was about to ask what was wrong but before he could get the words out of his mouth you were in his arms hugging him, he hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around you tight, pulling you closer into him.

Pulling back, you looked up at him before you spoke “For Charles.” He smiled, looking in your sad eyes staring up at him. “Yeah, for Charles”

When he left, the same silence that had felt comfortable in just 5 minutes ago became heavy. Without Max here to distract you from the devastation, the crushing feeling became more apparent. You thought about looking at your phone, maybe even texting Max a quick thank you, but you quickly realised that on your phone you would find dozens of messages from Pierre. Quickly changing your mind, you went straight to the sofa to sleep, not even bothering to attempt to use the bed.

The ringing of your alarm woke you up at 10am the next morning, an unwelcome wake up call considering the disturbed sleep you had from sleeping on the sofa. The first thing you did was walk into your bedroom and strip the bed, putting the old bedding in the washing and putting a brand-new set of sheets on. Happy with yourself for coming up with a solution for that problem, you got to work on completing other tasks that needed to be done; you showered, and you tidied up the house. Then finally after feeling as refreshed as you possibly could, you moved on to the one task you truly did not want to do. Letting out a shaky breath you reached for your phone, it had sat unmoved from the kitchen table, where it was when one 5-minute conversation with Max Verstappen changed her whole life.

Opening it up, messages from four people filled her screen: Pierre, Max, Charles and Rebecca from work. The last name made you curse, it reminded you of the one thing you did not want to be reminded of, the flight to Spain you were scheduled to take with your fiancé in time for the Spanish GP. When Pierre asked you to quit your job as a photographer to follow him around the world all those years ago, you said no, not wanting your entire life to be boiled down to who you were in a relationship with. But when he asked and asked, when he told you how crazy he was going being away from you for weeks on end, you said yes. He got you a job with Formula 1 and you loved it. You loved the work you did, and you loved getting to travel the world with the love of your life, or at least you used to.

Frowning, you moved on to the other text messages, starting with Charles.

Charles Leclerc

Y/N Pierre has just turned up here in a state, he won’t talk. What’s happened?

Okay so he told me what happened, I cannot believe he did that. Please message me as soon as you get this, I need to know that you’re okay.

Y/N, just so you know, Max called asking for your address, I’m not sure why but expect him at your door soon

You smiled to yourself at the love and concern Charles had for you. You wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t reach out, if he put his entire focus on his best friend. You quickly typed a reply.

Y/N Y/LN

Hey Charles, sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I am okay, just. I really don’t want to talk about it right now though.

Turning to the next set of messages, you noticed they were from Pierre.

Mon amour

Cheri, please let me come home, let’s talk about this.

Please Y/N I’m so sorry.

I love you Cheri, you have to know that.

What is happening with our plans today, when can I come round to get my stuff, are you still coming? I need to know the flights in a few hours.

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, mostly because you didn’t know the answer to his question. Moving on you saw the next messages were from Max.

Max Verstappen

Hey Y/N, I’m sorry for having to tell you that, but you needed to know. I hope you’re okay.

Good morning Y/N, I hope you’re doing okay today. Just a reminder that I’m always here.

You smiled at the messages, once again the care this man showed for you..

Y/N Y/LN

Hi Max, thank you for yesterday. I’ve been better but yeah, I’m okay thank you.

Max Verstappen

I’m glad to hear it. Is there anything I can do for you today?

Y/N Y/LN

No I don’t think so thank you. Today will be spent trying to find a new way to get to Spain ready for the shoot tomorrow haha.

Max Verstappen

I have space on my jet?

Y/N Y/LN

Thank you but you really don’t need to do that. I’ll find a way; worst case I guess I’ll just catch the flight with Pierre.

Max Verstappen

No don’t be silly, you’re coming. I have a space and you need a way to get there.

I’ll be there in 45 minutes, be ready.

Your breath hitched at those last messages, you thought about standing your ground and telling him no, but he was right. You need to get there and the last thing you want is to sit on a plane with Pierre. Quickly firing off a message to Pierre to let him know you’ll be making your own way there and that he can come over in an hour to collect his stuff as that’s when you’ll be gone. You began to gather your stuff and prepare to leave.

The time passed quickly and eventually you received another text message from Max letting you know he had arrived. You felt nerves swirl around your stomach as you walked downstairs and approached the car. Opening the door, you saw that Max was sat in the driver's seat, the passenger seat was empty and in the back of the car sat Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris.

“Hey Y/N, I saved you a seat. Have you got everything you need?” He asked smiling warmly at you tapping the seat next to him. You could feel pity in the eyes of Daniel and Lando, you knew Lando knew as he was there when it happened, but somebody had clearly told Daniel too.

“Yeah, I do, thank you very much for this, I really appreciate it.” you replied climbing into the very fancy sports car.

“Oh, please you’re doing me a favour, I didn’t particularly want to spend an hour in a confined space with those two back there.” he joked, clearly sensing your nervousness and wanting to help you feel at ease.

“Ignore him Y/N, he loves us really” you heard an Australian voice joke come from behind us. You never had much to do with Daniel; but you knew his reputation for being the most likeable guy on the grid and after just a car ride with him you had to agree.

Boarding Max’s jet felt like something out of movie, you had never experienced anything like this before, usually just flying business class with Pierre. Lando and Daniel sat next to each other, sharing a knowing glance with each other when they left you to sit next to Max, but you didn’t notice, too transfixed with looking at your surroundings. You sat next to Max, opposite the two other men on the plane and the conversation started flowing. It surprised you, how easily the conversation came between you and the three men, with you not spending much time with them at all before this. Eventually Lando and Daniel were asleep, you felt yourself not too far behind. Just as you were drifting asleep, you heard Max’s nervous voice begin speaking.

“Y/N, I hope you don’t think I'm being too forward here by the way; I just have been in your situation, and I know most of your friends around here are Pierre’s friends too.. And I guess I just didn’t want you to be alone.”

His words made your heart flutter, a feeling that took you by surprise, but you didn’t think much of it.

“No Max, I don’t. Honestly, It’s Nice to Have A Friend.” You replied before closing your eyes and starting to sleep. Max didn’t say anything else after that, he just leant over and very gently kissed the top of your head.

Taglist-

@hiraethrhapsody @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @aundercover @dearlovelys

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen #lando norris #formula 1 #max verstappen smut #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles lecrelc #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x oc #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x y/n #f1 fanfic #fanfic #f1 imagine

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kirimoochi · 1 month

Text

my fairy.

₊˚ ᗢ jung joon-hyung! scaramouche x kim bok-joo!reader.

⤷ inspired by weightlifting fairy kim bok-joo, 1.6k wc.

it felt like destiny brought the two of you together. that fateful day you slammed into him while he was riding his bike, completely knocking him off balance as you apologized profusely. you bowed in front of him several times until you realized he started to huff under his breath, a roll in his eyes had you quickly reeling your head. you stood up straight, noting that he wasn’t taller than you in comparison. slightly shorter than most boys you’ve seen. what sport did he play? based on that uniform, he looked like he went to the same school as you.

he angrily cusses you out, asking for you to watch where you’re going. he said: “you must be deaf and blind not to see me on the road.” your friends stared at him in shock as you immediately glared at him in response, calling him out on his attitude before he jumped back onto his bike, speeding off in a hurry. you curse at him, calling him an entitled brat despite knowing well he won’t hear you.

before you can leave the scene, you notice a fallen handkerchief. with the lace trimming and soft purple color, you think it’d be too girly to be his. and yet you tuck it into your pocket with a sigh.

the next day was awful. in the morning, you find out that you lost your lucky t-shirt. you’ve always kept it since you were an elementary school kid. it would always give you good luck before your tournaments. and now it’s suddenly missing. you searched in your closet frantically, pulling out every article of clothing you could to no avail. it was gone.

during lunch, a few ribbon dancers came to your table, snickering about how much you ate that day. you couldn’t help yourself. the morning was stressful enough, and it just so happened that they were serving your favorite meal today. you wanted a little bit of comfort during your time of distress. your friends nudge you with their elbow, stopping you from flicking food onto their expensive, tight jackets. you dislike them. and wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones who stole your t-shirt. they’ve always been up to something.

the cherry on top was having to chase down the underwear thief you saw lurking around the girls’ dorm. to your surprise and horror, you saw the rude biker in front of you. with wide eyes, you scream, pointing at him before charging forward with the intent of tackling him. how dare he steal your t-shirt! and possibly some other women's underwear! you never thought of him as a disgusting pervert but the evidence felt so clear. the same build and hoodie was enough to tell you it was the same man. he withdrew a breath as he struggled to climb back the makeshift rope his roommate made. you drag him by his hoodie, eventually ripping it off of him as you called out into the darkness, hoping someone would help you.

but he wasn’t the thief. you and he stood in front of the administrators in their office. your hands squeezing each other tightly as you nervously try to explain that what you saw earlier was not a dream. you swore this man stole your clothes. why else would he be out so late? the rude, navy-haired man stared you down while you only rolled your eyes, dismissing another rude comment. you demanded that he give you back your t-shirt, not believing his story whatsoever. he shook his head, asking you to give him an apology instead. you swore you felt steam escape from your ears at this.

this was not the end of the underwear thief as you and your friends were putting away chairs from your school event, you noticed one of the staff member’s shirts lifting, revealing a lacy, red underwear. he smiled eerily at you before grabbing the plastic chair in your hands, trying to intimidate you. however, your friends screamed loud enough for the others to arrive on the scene, taking him away in a blaring police car. you sighed as you held onto your t-shirt, looking down at the fabric as you wondered if you owed that rude biker an apology.

luckily (or possibly unlucky) for you, you learned very quickly that he was part of the swim team. but the man had a royally bad attitude. you found out from a few other people that while he was attractive, he had a nasty personality to boot. you showed up at the school pool, hoping to find him lurking around with the other team members. you wanted to give him an apology for accusing him of stealing your shirt and return his handkerchief. you even went as far as to wash it for him. he calls out to you and you twist your body to face him, a cocky smirk is spread across his face. he slowly walks towards you, a towel hanging over his neck as he stares you down.

“a short, attractive, dark-haired boy,” he says, “not the most detailed description of me but at least you got the attractive part right. you must be looking for me then.” you sigh under your breath. holding out his handkerchief with a bit of hesitance, telling him you washed it last night.

he quickly snatches it out of your hand, scowling at you once more as he raises his voice, asking you why you washed it. when he took a step forward, you stepped back, accidentally slipping into the pool. he groans in annoyance, watching you struggle before diving in and shoving you onto the surface. how unromantic. when you brushed off his touch, you left immediately, feeling humiliated as his teammates burned holes into your back. he stared at the back of your figure, seeing you shiver as your athletic jacket dripped with water. he crosses his arms over the edge of the pool, wondering why you seemed familiar.

three days after this encounter, you were sitting with your friends in the cafeteria when he suddenly interrupted your conversation by sitting next to you. he didn’t say a word and only ate his food, once in a while, he’d glance up at you. your friends raise an eyebrow at his behavior, subtly asking you if you know him. you continued to eat, shoving the rest of the curry in your mouth before opening your yakult. letting out a deep sigh, you notice that he placed his own next to yours. “do you not want yours?” you asked, nervously taking it.

“people like you always eat the most, so why don’t you have it?” why did you even think he was nice? how rude. you crinkled your eyebrows for a moment. you scoffed. setting down the drink, you packed up your things and took your tray, leaving everyone at the table.

what is wrong with this guy? he went from despising you to somehow following you around like a lost puppy. he’d make short snappy comments to you. whether it be about another person down the street wearing the most horrific outfit known to man. or about your choice of clothes when you sneak out of the dorms. as much as he’s kind of irritating, you slowly get used to his bratty nature. it felt nice having someone around who didn’t question your feelings. especially when it came to your realization that your team coach had to cut costs because of the lack of funding. you’ve felt a heavy weight on your heart ever since you saw your coach try in her office, trying to keep everything together for your friends.

he started to show up more often at your family’s chicken restaurant. he doesn’t like oily chicken and yet he’s seen ordering the same box meal every time. your father was beginning to think he liked you. what a farfetched idea though. you could never see yourself dating him in a million years! he was a short, sharp-tongue swimmer who didn’t care about anyone but himself. and yet you let this perception of him change you.

it was late at night, just barely before curfew that the two of you were talking beside a small waterfall. he asked you about your commitment to weightlifting and the sport, giving you his 2 cents about the sport. you raised your eyebrow, surprised to know that he went out of his way to understand your sport. most of the other people there saw it as nothing but an eating challenge between members, and that was because you had to maintain your weight or gain weight.

you start seeing him more often. maybe a little too much to the point you’ve had to hide underneath the table of the convenience store. the two of you were just going out for some instant ramen. when the two of you saw one of the counselors roaming around, grabbing a coffee from the front, he pulled you under the bar table. you were so close to him. you could feel his breath on the surface of your lips. you stayed in this position until his eyes shifted over to the window, seeing the counselor leave. when he moves up, he hits the back of his head on the table, a soft squeal coming out of him as you instinctively reach out, brushing his hair as he winces. what a cute sound, you tell yourself. he successfully escapes, holding out his hand as you take it, hitting your head on the way out.

truthfully, maybe your heart skipped a beat a little when you both had to run back to the dorms, the adrenaline rush that coursed through your veins made you look at him a little differently.

#₊˚ ᗢ kirimoochi #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines

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norrisreads · 1 year

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Love Again #LN4

PAIRING: lando norris x wolff reader! Daniel Ricciardo x wolff reader! platonic only

SUMMARY: part 2 to sweetest pie, lando norris and y/n wolff a step closer to a newly found friendship but what does lando know about her?

WARNING: just fluff + more (see for yourself)

FC: lalalalisa_m on ig

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

after monaco grand prix

you are currently packing up your things to head home, the event was done and dusted, another verstappen win of course, it did not fazed you at all.

of course, you didn’t bring much but accompanying your family out here for 3 straight days, you had to bring your laptop along to sneak in some edits on your on-going projects.

daniel had gone back with heidi as he plans to attend the after party, of course he invited you, but you weren’t really interested in that life and knowing you’re their opponent team principal daughter, it probably will not be a good image.

Though, your dad did tell you multiple times whatever you’re doing it will never affect him as he does not intend to prohibit you to do things just because you’re his daughter.

“y/n, your phone keeps beeping. you should check it” george walked towards you with your phone in hand. you had to borrow george’s charger as your phone had died mid researching.

“oh, thanks George! heading home straight away?”

“yeah, carmen booked a 4 star restaurant for dinner, will probably need that after today’s result”

“you did great by the way, don’t dwell too much.” you tapped his shoulder and smiled

george smiled , bid his goodbye and made his way towards carmen, which she waved towards you and you did the same

you looked at the notifications you’ve received and laughed, of course a text from norris. ever-since, the interaction the both of you had, you’ve gotten closer even though that literally happened 2 days ago.

he is closer to your age, which is a pros because the both of you had similar humour and would share unfunny memes to each other which ONLY the both of you are able to understand.

you’ve finished packing, and was currently just waiting for your dad to finish his briefing towards the engineers. susie and jack had went off earlier, you agreed on waiting for your dad, though agreeing on that means he’ll be the one riding your motorbike and you’ll be a pillion (which you hate).

thus, while waiting for your dad, you took the time to respond to lando’s texts.

a/n : i don’t know why the emojis aren’t showing up 😭

Great, now you have a party to attend to.

“done with the packing?” you heard your dad’s voice

“yeah, taking my bike?” you asked while walking behind your dad following his pace

“of course honey, keys please”

you gave your dad your keys and walked towards your motorbike.

“the colour’s great, what’s the colour of your cafe racer back in singapore?”

“of course, you’re always getting the ugly colour papa. you have to let me know on the colours availability next time, it’s black, the other choices they had weren’t my taste. it’s probably yours though, silver just like the vintage cruiser triumph back home.”

your dad had a motorbike back home kept for you in any case you’re interested of inheriting it from him, but it wasn’t really up to your taste. A royal enfield, though is up to your taste.

danielricciardo: FOUL. y/nwolff not trusting toto wolff????????

georgerussell63: bossman reminiscing youth

landonorris: i’m next

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

2245HRS

“someone’s here for you darling” you heard susie voice came from the kitchen

it’s only 1045, why the fuck is lando here already. you’re literally still doing your makeup, leaving with blusher and setting your face.

“i’m still not done yet, can you let him know?” you shouted

“yeah about that, too late y/n” your door swing open, with lando showing up in your childhood room

“you’re early? did you speak to my dad? pissed your pants, yet?”

“ha ha funny. he’s not as scary as I thought of him to be” he took a seat on the edge of your bed

“he’s a great person norris, just team principle things huh?” shifting your chair towards him

“you look great, are you done though?” lando asked you while looking around your room

“yeah just left to set my makeup, don’t touch that” you quickly stood up and snatched the box away from Lando’s grip

“woah woah, what’s that about?”

“nothing it’s just something, thought i threw it away”

lando nodded but in his head, he was deadly curious on the reaction that you gave him, it was just a plain box with the letter m graving, what could the content in the box even possibly be?

“let’s get going, i’m done. my ride or yours?” you turned to lando, holding your keys.

“mine of course, i’m a gentleman”

“yeah, in that fiat jolly of yours?”

“fine, yours then” great.

you went into your dad office, took a extra helmet and gave to lando

“you’ll need this, you’re behind.”

and with that gesture, you made lando’s heart beat faster

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

AFTER PARTY

you were currently downing your whatever number of shots, while laughing at lando’s dance move with Carl’s

lando of course, didn’t drink much, prob a glass or two but you, you had quite a lot. Though, you’ll wanna thank your best friend for regularly having drinking sessions in the both of your apartment because this did improve your alcohol intake.

“you go to parties regularly?” heidi sat beside you, and questioned you

you shooked your head

“the alcohol intake speaks otherwise” the both of you laughed

“well, school stress helps ALOT”

you weren’t that close to any of the wags except heidi, she’s literally like a elder sister to you, checking up on you regularly and more. She’s the exact form of daniel just in a female form

“hey, you okay? feeling tipsy?” Lando approached you, taking a seat beside you which led to some of the drivers eyeing each other at the close contact the both of you had

“I’m Okay, slightly tipsy. You okay with riding the bike home, i’ll probably be better pillioned, if you aren’t, i’ll just let my dad know, he’ll probably pick us up”

“ woah, i’m okay with riding home. much better, i do not want toto to think badly of myself. just try and sober up a-bit alright, i’ll get a glass of water for you, stay here”

you agreed and leaned your head back but you then realised the stares you had from daniel, heidi, carlos and the others.

“what?”

“is something going on between the two of you?” charles questioned with that accent of his

“just friends”

“he picked you up today? toto did not say anything to lando?” this time, daniel

you shooked your head, “what’s wrong guys? is there’s something wrong?”

all of them shooked their head and laughed, “we’re just shocked, you’re not that easy to talk to. I’m amazed lando got you smitten over him”

carlos, said out loud handing you a shot.

“me? smitten?” rolling your eyes, downing the shot

before you’re able to down the shot, someone snatched the shot glass away from you

“what the fu-mick?” this time heidi held your hand tightly.

“hey, am i late? sorry y/n, promised toto you shouldn’t drink too much“ there stood in front you was Mick Schumacher smiling widely at you and lando arriving to the scene feeling the tense air between you and mick.

—✩࿐ end note: that’s all for part 2 of sweetest pie, if you haven’t read part one please do!!!!! i’ll do a part three soon, but in the mean time i hope you enjoy this ♥️

#f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fics #f1 smau #lando norris x y/n #mick schumacher #lando norris x reader

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octuscle · 4 months

Note

I work as a janitor at a local hospital and I'm tired of all the snobby attitudes around here. There's this new young doctor who everyone keeps fawning over and I totally get why. Young, smart, incredibly attractive- I'm sure you get the picture. But the other day I heard him talking about the janitorial staff and saying stuff like "this is why I did well in school." Earlier when he was helping perform a surgery, I nabbed his laptop and input some changes to bring him down a few levels and give him a new appreciation for the janitors here. I'd love to see his face tonight when he starts slowly changing.

You can't help being born with a golden spoon in your mouth. No one can help being handsome and intelligent. But the question is always what you do with it. Or if you are suddenly no longer born with a golden spoon in your mouth. And not quite as intelligent. But beautiful in a different way.

When Shawn walks to the parking lot after a hard day in the OR, something is different… Where his brand-new model should be, among all the flashy Porsches, there's a 911 that's about ten years old. The leather seats are a little worn. But didn't his parents just give him a new one for Christmas? Shit, maybe it was just too much work today. Maybe he shouldn't go out for a fancy dinner with the others tonight. Just go to bed early instead.

Normally, Shwan would have had to chase his sports car, engine howling, toward downtown. Into the underground garage beneath his apartment building. The apartment his parents gave him. But as if in a trance, he drives toward the high-rise housing complex on the outskirts of the city. Fatima's hand dangles from the rearview mirror. Arabic music plays on the radio.

Shawn curses the idiots who can't park. He spends more than half an hour looking for a place to park his beat-up old van. If all the Sunday drivers had parked properly, there would have been five or six spaces available. Idiots! The leftovers he took from the hospital cafeteria have long since gone cold, of course. He takes the bags and carries them up to the apartment on the sixth floor. Of course, the elevator doesn't work again. That's a bit of his own fault. After working at the hospital, he is the janitor here in the apartment complex. He puts the food on the kitchen table. His parents and younger siblings eat it greedily. They don't care that it's pork. Shawn doesn't tell them either. It's pointless anyway. Before collapsing on the bed, exhausted, he grabs the toolbox again and goes to the elevator machine room.

Yahya never planned to be the breadwinner for his family. But after fleeing Syria, he was the only one who spoke English. How he would have loved to finish his mechanical engineering degree, which he had almost completed. But earning money was a higher priority. And the hospital job wasn't bad. It paid well. He might even be able to continue his studies. He worked hard for two things: his body, which he was proud of. And for his career. It was easy to stay rich if you were born rich. Yahya wanted to be rich because he was born poor.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #ai image

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iamthatwhich · 1 year

Photo

If you menstruate and are on a path of zero-waste, avoiding plastics, avoiding toxic chemicals, minimizing your footprint, or all of the above, then you’ve likely been faced with a frustrating conundrum: Menstruating is a natural part of your life, but there doesn’t seem to be too many ‘clean’, safe options to deal with it.

First off, let me say that I have been off and away from mainstream menstrual care for over 14 years, including birth control (wrecked my hormones), and storebought sanitary products (full of harmful chemicals like bleach, perfume and hormone-disrupting PFAs!). I have used silicone cups, discs, and cloth pads, and have a lengthy and thorough review of how they are used and what brands I prefer up on my Patreon.

However, for today I want to focus on one tried and true item: The pad.

Pads have been around for centuries- longer if you include their earlier predecessor, The Rag. However, in this time we’ve come pretty far to create a more secure, clean and manageable item— though the creation of the chemically-treated, plastic lined disposable pad has been a regrettable pit stop.

Cloth pads are great because they come in a wide range of colors and patterns (making them more appropriate for more kinds of menstruating people, including men and children) and can be reused for years if cared for properly. Over the past decade, they’ve gone from being available solely from independent sellers on sites like Etsy to being sold alongside menstrual cups in the ‘alternative’ period care section of many stores. You can also specifically buy pads made from organic or natural materials and avoid petrol-based textiles.

However, a downside here is that purchasing pads can still be expensive even if you aren’t buying direct from an indie seller. Now, it’s not that they aren’t worth every penny; having made 3 sets myself I fully understand the time, skill and materials that go into making them. But the fact of the matter is that under late-stage capitalism, paying the higher up-front cost for a set of reusable pads can be daunting, even if you know it’s cheaper in the long run (and it is). If you have access to fabric, a sewing machine, and sewing skills, you can half the price, and I’m going to show you how. The cost of fabric can even be lowered by recycling old towels and clothing and I’ll talk about what you need in the tutorial! As a set of good cloth pads can last from 4-6 years or more, this is a great, frugal and eco-friendly option!

Additionally, I’m going to tell you how to wash and care for your pads since working with reusable pads is way different than just wrapping them up and throwing them in the trash.

For the step by step directions, photos and care tutorial, click here to read for free on my Patreon. All of my content is Patron-supported and Patrons also receive private and early-release posts! If you appreciate my work, feel free to visit my membership page and choose the tier that works for you.

Free tutorial here.

Tips + Thank yous Insta

#menstruation #eco friendly #sustainability #zero waste #period care #diy #sewing #tutorials

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magicalmysteries777 · 2 years

Text

Lay-ons. Eddie Munson x Fem Reader oneshot.

Parings: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader.

Parts: One shot.

WC: 2366.

Read Time: 9 minutes and 27 seconds,

Summary: Popular fem reader with a secret crush on Eddie goes to buy drugs but ends up getting more than she paid for.

You find out you have a praise kink when a drug deal takes an odd turn.

Rating: Explicit, 18+, minors DNI!!!

CW: mentions of drugs, swearing, fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, praise kink, edging.

As you make your way toward the shabby trailer in front of you, you pause halfway and look around. Eddie’s trailer was exactly how you expected it to look. The surrounding grass was overgrown and dying, weeds were scattered about, and empty beer bottles were lying around on the porch. You let out a muffled chuckle to yourself and climb the rest of the steps before knocking on the front door. A few seconds pass by before the door swings open

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the Princess of Hawkins High herself. What can I do for you, darling?” Eddie asked, a smirk growing on his face.

“I spoke to Gareth earlier today about acquiring some… party supplies,” you admit.

“Come in,” he instructed, holding the door open wide.

“You live here alone?” you ask, looking around curiously.

“Nah, my uncle lives here too. He works nights at The Plant. They’re his, by the way, if you were wondering,” he tells you, gesturing to the mug and hat collection hung on the wall.

“Impressive.”

“So… what 'supplies' are you after? I didn’t think that would be your scene.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Munson.”

Eddie lingered on his response for a moment before letting out a muffled chuckle. “Come on,” he instructs, beckoning for you to follow.

Eddie leads you into the bedroom at the back of the trailer and gestures toward the bed before turning his back to you and opening the closet, rooting through his belongings. You take this opportunity to look around.

Even though you’ve gone your entire academic career in the same classes as Eddie, you’ve never actually spoken to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was more along the lines of your ‘friends’ would never let you live it down if you did. You’ve been best friends with Chrissy Cunningham for as long as you can remember, which in turn means that you spend every single day with her and her boyfriend, Jason, along with the rest of the cheer squad and basketball team. Jason had made it his mission to make Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson’s time at Hawkins High as miserable as possible and would even further alienate Chrissy away from you if he ever caught you dead even looking at him. Despite this, Eddie had always piqued your curiosity. There was something about the way that Eddie was, and always had been, so unequivocally himself that had the ability to steal the attention of everyone within a three-meter distance of him.

This was your first real look into who Eddie actually was. Not the act of ‘unbothered, class clown’ that he put on at school. Clothes, magazines, cans, bottles, and bits of rubbish were scattered on every surface available along with the floor. Stacks of comics, books, and records were piled high in the corner of the room and on the shelves. He had many amps dotted around along with guitars; one acoustic and two electric, one of which was hung on the wall next to the mirror, pride of place. Every inch of the wall was covered with band posters and drawings. This was who he really was. Passionate and creative, albeit a little bit chaotic.

“Got you!” Eddie muttered, holding up a small metal box in front of him. You turn and look at Eddie properly for a moment. His long, curly hair disheveled. His large, brown eyes glimmering in the dim light. He was wearing a loose band t-shirt and black jeans, a chain dangling over his pocket. Each finger clutching the small box was adorned with large, silver rings.

“So, uh, what have you got?” you ask.

Eddie flops himself down onto the bed beside you, holding himself up with his elbow. He opens the box and asses his inventory before recalling the contents to you. “Weed, Special K, and a couple of tabs.”

“How much for the tabs and a half ounce?”

“Thirty bucks.”

“Shit, I’ve only got twenty,” you mutter, counting the bills in your purse.

“Just the weed then?”

“Any chance I could owe you for the tabs?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t do lay-ons. Too busy to be chasing people up and far too pretty to be getting all bloodied up fighting them when they don’t pay,” he smirks.

“You really think I’m going to try and fight you over ten bucks?” you ask, eyebrows raised.

“Of course not, but Carver might.”

“What’s Jason got to do with anything?”

“Aren’t you part of his and Chrissy’s little gang?” he chuckles.

“I’m friends with Chrissy, he’s just the baggage I put up with,” you admit out loud for the first time.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“Guess the most ‘popular’ kids at school aren’t as perfect as they appear.”

“Don’t even get me started, the entire cheer squad is as fake and two-faced as you can get,” you admit without thinking. “Shit. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he smirks.

“Thanks. For the record,” you start, sitting up a little, “I don’t think you’re a freak. Jason’s just bitter that he has to follow his parent's plan while you… just do you.”

“What do you mean?”

“All Jason ever does is study and play basketball. You… well, you’ve got your club, your band… you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not.”

“You know about my band?” he asks, his large eyes locked on yours.

“I’ve seen you play,” you admit sheepishly.

“Is this a prank or something?” he questions.

“I’m not lying. January twenty-first. There was a fight three songs in and you licked Gareth’s face during the encore.”

“Holy shit.”

“I told you there was a lot you didn’t know about me, Munson,” you smirk.

“Is that so?” he asks, eyes fixed on yours.

“Mhmm.”

“You’re not what I thought you’d be like,” Eddie admits after a few seconds.

“No?” you ask, eyes wandering to the faint smile on his lips.

“No…”

Your eyes wander back up to meet Eddies and linger there for a second. God, they were beautiful up close. Deep, dark brown but the reflection of the dim, yellow light made it look as if there were tiny gold flecks scattered within his irises.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Eddie asks softly.

“Perfect,” you whisper, eyes still locked on his. “Hey, um, I was thinking... if you don’t do lay-ons, perhaps there’s some other way I can make it up to you?”

Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, Eddie’s lips crash onto yours in the deepest, most breathtaking kiss you’ve ever experienced. His hands cup the side of your face, the cold metal on his fingers colliding with your hot, flushed face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers, his lips still millimeters from yours, his forehead pressed against your own.

“Me either,” you reply, still a little breathless.

Eddie crashes his lips back onto yours and kisses you again, only this time it's sloppier; more hungry, and desperate. You kiss him back eagerly, savoring the moment in case it finishes just as suddenly as it began. You slide a hand into his hair and interlock his curls with your fingers, earning a gentle nibble on your bottom lip from Eddie. A small moan escapes your lips and you feel him smile before kissing you again.

Without breaking from the kiss, you move your way over to Eddie before crawling into his lap, legs straddling him. His lips broke free from yours and began moving towards your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as they went.

“You like that, huh?” Eddie whispers as you tilt your neck, exposing your skin for him. Your hands tighten around Eddie’s wild locks as he nips at the skin, causing you to grind your hips involuntarily. A smirk begins to grow across your face as you feel him begin to harden beneath you.

“So do you, apparently,” you tease.

“You have no fucking idea what I wanna do to you right now,” Eddie breathes heavily between sloppy kisses to your neck.

“What’s stopping you?”

Eddie grabs your t-shirt and pulls it over your head leaving your black, lacy bra exposed. He pauses for a second, eyes wide at the mere sight of you this bare in front of him, before eagerly cupping your breasts in his hands and squeezing gently. Without meaning to, you grind against him again, the ache inside of you growing stronger.

“So impatient,” Eddie whispers in your ear, rolling his hips so that his hard cock grinds against you. A quiet mewl escapes from your lips as your head lolls back. Eddie places his hands on your thighs, slowly sliding them up under your skirt and trailing his thumb over your waistband. You tighten your grip on his hair and pull him away from your chest, crashing your lips down onto his, craving to taste him again. You moan involuntarily into his mouth as he gently slides his thumb down onto your lace-covered clit, rubbing it softly in a circular motion. Eddie breaks from your kiss and pulls back, keeping his eyes locked with yours, smirking as he watches you try to stay quiet.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he asks cockily, his fingers gently tugging your thong over to the side. His thumb slides between your folds and back up to your clit, covering it in your wetness so that it glides with ease.

Your hips buckle at every touch, kiss, and hot breath against your skin. You can feel the tension growing inside of you, getting stronger and stronger with every passing second. Eddie slips one of his fingers inside of you, his thumb still circling your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan at the extra stimulation.

“There’s a good girl,” he whispers softly in your ear. “God, you look so fucking hot.”

“Fuck, Eddie,” you moan.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he smiled wickedly, placing a second finger inside of you. “Good girl.”

You pick the pace up, riding Eddie’s hand at your own tempo to help get you over the edge. Eddie matches your speed with his thumb and before you know it, it feels almost too good to bear.

“Oh, fuck. Eddie, I’m gonna c-” you begin before Eddie pulls his hand away from you.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not yet, you’re not. You’ll cum when I say you can cum, Princess,” he teases.

“Please, Eddie,” you pout.

“You look so pretty when you sit there begging for it,” he smirks, his thumb quickly gliding over your clit again, causing you to buckle onto him.

“Fuck. Please, Eddie. I need you,” you pant, fingers wrapped up in his curls again.

“Say it again.”

“I need you.”

Eddie wraps his arms around you and flips you onto the bed, hovering over you, the guitar pick dangling from his neck cold on your hot skin. You fiddle with his belt buckle for a few seconds before tugging it free and unbuttoning his jeans. Eddie takes your hands and pins them above your head, crashing his lips back down onto yours hungrily.

“Please, Munson,” you pant.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you? Okay. Okay.”

Eddie reaches into his bedside cabinet and pulls out a condom before removing it from its wrapper and placing it on his erect penis. He looks back up and catches you biting your lip at the mere sight of him.

“That’s hot,” he teases, diving towards you. “You ready?”

“Mhmm,” you manage to whimper as he teases your opening with the tip of his cock.

“I need to hear your words, Princess.”

“Please, Eddie.”

You let out a loud moan as Eddie sinks into you as deep as he can go, pausing for a second while you adjust to his width. You didn’t have much experience when it came to guys, but so far, Eddie was the biggest you’d been with. It stung for a few seconds at first, but soon the sensation turned into pleasure as he thrust into you again and again.

“Look at you,” he cooed, grabbing your jaw and holding your face centimeters from his, his rings digging into your skin. “Taking that so well, aren’t you? Such a good girl for me.”

“Mhmm,” you whimper.

“What are you?” he asks, gripping tighter.

“A good girl,” you pant. He releases your jaw and grabs your hips, pulling you onto him with each forceful thrust, slamming into you harder and harder.

His thumb slides over your clit, dancing over it in fast circles, pushing you further to the edge. The tension inside of you beginning to grow again causing your moans to get louder.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie. I’m so close,” you whimper.

“Is that so?” he asks with a smirk.

“Mhmm.”

“You wanna cum?” he teases, whispering into your ear.

“Mhmm.”

“How badly?”

“Fuck, Eddie. So bad.”

“Okay, Princess. Cum for me,” he instructs, picking up the pace.

A few thrusts later Eddie finds your sweet spot, nudging it at just the right angle that sends you to the peak of your climax in seconds. Back arched, your walls clench around him as your orgasm dies off.

“Holy shit,” you pant, “don’t stop.”

“Cum for me again, sweetheart,” he instructs, still hitting your spot, “you look so fucking pretty when you cum.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh, shit, Eddie. Eddie. Oh God, I’m gonna-” you cry out, your walls beginning to clench around him again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you? There you go,” he pants, thrusting harder and harder until he too begins letting out trails of curse words. “Fuck. Oh, Fuck. Gonna-”

You wrap your legs around Eddie, pulling him deep into you as you feel him tense repeatedly inside of you while he empties his load into the condom. He drops to his elbows, forehead resting against yours, panting.

“You know what?” he begins, breathless, “you can take the tabs. I don’t care. Just promise me something?”

“What?” you ask, tucking a wild curl behind his ear.

“The next time you come over for ‘party supplies’ just make sure you’re a few dollars short again, yeah?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x f!reader #18+#minors dni #can you tell im down bad for this man

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ghulehunknown · 8 months

Text

Tangled Sheets

Papa of Choice x GN!Reader

Day 8 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING - EXPLICIT, NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

“Tangled Sheets”

Papa of Choice x GN!Reader

Summary: The morning after sleeping with Papa, he teases you just a little bit more…

CW/Tags: gender neutral reader, gender neutral genitalia terms, papa of your choice (you get to imagine your favorite!), nipple play, fingering, oral sex - rimming, light spanking, masturbation

Word Count: 985

You wake up the next morning wrapped in sheets, upon a plush bed. You smile to yourself, recounting how you and Papa messed up the bedsheets last night and into the early hours of the morning. The sunlight spills into the room, through the cracks between the black out curtains, a pool of it hitting you and highlighting your face.

Papa comes back into the room with a cup of warm herbal tea to combat the chilly autumn morning air.

“Sì, it’s that awkward time of year when they do not know whether to keep the heat on or the air conditioning,” he says, leaning in to give you a smooch on the cheek and handing you the tea. “Careful, caro/cara, it’s hot.” He’s wearing a soft almost floor length robe that has his initials emblazoned over his chest.

“Grazie Papa,” you say, looking at him and sipping carefully. Mm, the warm cinnamon notes hit just right this morning. You lean in to kiss him, smelling his aftershave and feeling his smooth skin as you hold his face in your free hand. You smell cinnamon on him too; he must have been up much earlier than you and made tea for himself as well.

He glances over your naked body while rubbing your chin. “What would you like to do today?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Lay in bed all day with you?” You smirk as you lay your mug down on the bedside table then slink back in bed under the covers where it’s warm.

“Ah, where has mi amore gone?” he feigns surprise as you cover yourself completely with the sheets. He stands up and you hear him pace around the room a time or two. “A shame…I was hoping to fuck them awake…”

You exhale sharply, not daring to laugh out loud. Suddenly, he pulls the sheets off you in one go, the chilly air hitting you immediately. You let out a yelp and try to cover yourself from the cold, but to no avail.

“Ah ah ahh,” he teases, throwing the sheet and blankets to the side and trapping you in bed, his hand on either side of your face. He kisses you roughly, his teeth grazing your lips. He pulls away, biting your bottom lip and pulling on it before releasing it and letting it snap back.

“Papa, I’m cold!” you rebel, reaching for the blankets - but he grabs your wrists and shuts you up with another kiss.

“Sì, I can tell tesoro,” he remarks, looking down at your hardened nipples and giving them a pinch. He dips down to bite at one, pulling it again like he did with your lip, eliciting another yelp from you.

In another act of rebellion, you turn around on your stomach when he tries to kiss you again. “Mm-mn!” you say, the pillows muffling you.

“I will just have to kiss something else,” he says teasingly. Then he grabs your waist and pulls your rear up to his lips in one swift motion.

“Ah -!” you cry out in surprise, his tongue tickling you in between your cheeks, licking you from your core to your lower back.

He kisses your supple ass, massaging your cheeks and spanking them a few times. He laughs each time you cry out in response, groaning each time he sees the ripple effect his handprint leaves on your flesh. He kisses your lower back - in the dimples above your rear and where your stomach meets your hips - his breath trailing across your skin raising the tiny hairs all over your body. He kisses all over you, making his way south.

He grabs ahold of your waist again, forcing your ass up higher in the air and shoving your head down on the mattress. He strokes your behind gently, kissing you while trailing his fingers towards your entrance. You can practically feel your heartbeat in your throat.

He inserts two fingers inside you, your walls still wet from the middle of the night’s last fuck and his saliva. You moan while he pumps in and out slowly. “So tight, tesoro,” he languishes, almost whining. “I have to taste you.”

With that, you feel his nose poke in between your cheeks, his soft lips kissing you. Instinctively you clench your ass cheeks together, and you feel him remove his fingers from inside you and spread you apart with both hands to gain easy access. His tongue brushes along your core, sweeping your entire length. The tip of his tongue explores you deeper, slipping inside you. Your body finally relaxes and you quit tensing your muscles, melting under his touch.

He steadies himself on your hip - nails digging into your ass - stroking your swollen flesh in front with his other hand, while he continues servicing you from behind with his mouth. “Mmmn,” he moans into you as you hear the familiar sound of him palming his erection, rubbing himself faster as he continues touching you between your legs.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp into the pillows, biting your forearm as he kneads your flesh faster. Fuck, all these sensations are building up your orgasm faster than you’d anticipated - fuck -

“Satanas!” he groans, pulling away from your rear as he pumps himself to completion, his hand faltering at your core as he shakes for a moment. A few splashes of his cum land on the back of your thighs.

Then he dives back into you, licking your entrance as he caresses your front faster and faster until your own orgasm spills all over the mattress too. “Moan tesoro, louder!” he coaxes you, relishing in hearing how good he makes you feel.

Once your breathing returns to normal, he collapses on top of your back, clasping your hands in his. “Bravo/a ragazzo/a,” he praises you through neck kisses. You smile and bury your face in the pillows, hoping he won’t notice how hard you’re blushing.

Italian to English Translation

- caro/cara (dear)

- mi amore (my love)

- tesoro (treasure)

- Bravo ragazzo/brava ragazza (good boy/good girl)

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ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask · 22 days

Text

The Mudman (again)

This one goes out to @eldewinddolly

---

“What in Heaven is that?” Trouble barked, drawing a gun on instinct. The target he was currently aiming at scurried back and forth in the torchlight, acting agitated. It hissed, its shining black shell chittering in the firelight as it darted around in the sand. It was almost like the disgusting little creature had realized that it was in danger.

Artemis smiled almost draconically. “Beautiful is what it is, Mister Kelp. Beautiful.” He knelt down to inspect the beast, which took the opportunity to leap up at him threateningly. “Fascinating little creatures,” Artemis continued, dancing out of the bug’s range. “From the family Scarabaidae. This branch of the tree appears to be particularly partial to an all-meat diet. In fact…”

Holly, who had drawn her own weapon when her academically inclined kin opted to wax poetic, knocked her shoulder against Artemis. “We get it, you’re in love,” she said through tight lips. “Now step on it. It’s freaking me out.”

“Step on it?” Artemis asked, spinning around to regard his sister with a look of shock and disgust. “I expected better from my own flesh and blood. This creature is a snapshot of history… you saw how they swarmed earlier, we haven’t seen a beetle quite like it in… well, I don’t believe there is anything like this on record! We ought to -”

His lecture was cut off by the sound of a sickening crunch.

Trouble pinched the bridge of his nose. “Holly. Please tell me that thing didn’t just take a bite out of Artemis,” he groaned. “I’d really rather not have to dig a man-eating bug out of your brother today.”

“Wah feen?” asked a muffled voice, its owner standing over the beetle. Or rather… standing over where the beetle had been only a moment before.

Holly made a quiet gagging sound and turned her face into Trouble’s shoulder. “It’s somehow worse,” she managed to say after a moment. “Much worse.”

“Worf thah wah?” the hairy little man asked, popping the other half of the beetle into his mouth and biting down. He chewed for a moment, then grinned. “Now come on, love,” he chuckled, noting Holly’s discomfort. “Beetles like this are a part of my heritage. My grandma practically raised me on these little beauties.”

Anger flashed across Artemis’s countenance for just a moment before he managed to school his features into a mask of calm indifference once more. “Mister Diggums… you might want to reconsider your dietary habits in regards to this particular source of protein. You may be interested to learn that they are carnivorous.”

Mulch flashed Artemis his signature tombstone grin. “I’ve been accused of the same, my friend,” he said with a wink.

Artemis let a smirk of his own cross his thin lips. “That may well be, Mister Diggums, but pause to consider with me for a moment… have you seen many natural animals running around Hamunaptra? Anything that we didn’t bring with us?”

The mirth in Diggums’ eyes cooled ever so slightly. “Can’t say as I have, no,” he said slowly. “What’s your point?”

Artemis slowly paced toward the hairy fellow, tapping his chin theatrically. “Well, Mister Diggums, if there are no sources of meat to which these fascinating little creatures might be availing themselves, just where do you imagine they’ve been sourcing their nutrition?”

Mulch swallowed nervously, any trace of humor now gone from his face. “You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes, my friend.” The smile on Artemis’s face was more unsettling than ever. “I believe they’ve survived off eating what remains of the mummies here.”

Several long moments of very tense silence passed amongst the group. Finally Holly holstered her sidearm. She dusted off her hands and turned away from the poor stunned fellow still looking, somewhat terrified, at her brother. Trouble matched her step for step, looking significantly paler now.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smirk at her companion. “Artemis was embellishing to make a point. These mummies are all far too old to be feeding any of these surviving beetles.”

Trouble stopped cold, turning to look at her. Then he began to laugh, long and loud. “You two are evil,” he said, shoulders shaking. “Pure evil.” He shook his head, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at her.

Holly felt her cheeks redden slightly. “He’s the evil one,” she defended herself. “I just play along on occasion.” Then she rested her hands on her hips, looking around the subterranean tunnel they traveled through. “Still,” she whispered confidentially, “that thing seemed pretty aggressive. Try not to get cornered by a swarm of them.”

Then she was off again, leaving a somewhat perturbed Trouble cautiously inspecting the shadows behind her, his hand trailing to the heel of his pistol.

#artemis fowl #af #af fandom #fanfiction #my writing #holly short #mulch diggums #trouble kelp

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nochuelinha · 2 months

Text

Flashbacks - Ellie Williams - One-Shot

Dina invited me to spend some time with her after patrol. Things in Jackson were quiet, Jesse was secretly looking for a jewel, he wanted to propose to Dina on her birthday next month.

I entered a new diner in town, it was beautiful and cozy, I sat at one of the tables in the back. Dina would arrive soon. I ordered a juice and a sandwich, I had patrolled with Jesse earlier today, we didn't have many problems, just some stalkers and clickers, but nothing we couldn't handle. I had gone home and taken a shower before coming, the day was fresh and the sun wasn't too hot.

Dina arrived a few minutes later, her hair tied back, looking like she had just come from patrol. Ellie followed behind her, and I blushed instantly.

"Y/N, patrol was insane, lots of infected, and damn, my legs are killing me from all the running," Dina said as she sat on the cushioned bench in front of me. She moved aside, and Ellie took her place, smiling at me.

"Good afternoon to you too, dear Dina," the sarcastic tone present. "Hello, Ellie," I returned her smile.

"Hello, darling," her tone sent a shiver down my spine.

Ellie's hands were on my back under my shirt, kissing me as if the world was ending right there. I was already breathless in her embrace, having taken off her shirt and messed up her hair. Her hands were now squeezing my breasts, fingers teasing my sensitive nipples, and I was melting.

"You're so soft, darling," Ellie's low, sensual tone made me even wetter.

"So we ran like hell and had to climb a bus and get to the other side," Dina recounted excitedly, but I had already lost track of her narrative. I looked at her and tried to show some interest, but Ellie decided to run her foot up my leg. My eyes flew to her immediately, and she held back a smile. "When we finally got to the other side, there were lots of shops and things we haven't explored yet. You need to go there."

"We can go together next time," I suggested, my order had arrived. Both of them placed their own orders. I took a bite of the sandwich, it was delicious.

"What's that on your neck?" Dina's voice caught me off guard, and I choked. "Hey, easy there, take a sip of your juice," she tried to help me. After coughing a few times, I regained my composure.

"It's nothing, I think it must be some bug bite," I said the first thing that came to my mind.

Ellie had laid me down on the bed and was now attacking my neck eagerly. It felt like she was famished and I was her prey after days without anything to satiate her, which was a big lie since I had visited her garage two days ago.

Her hands trailed down my bare legs and found my panties, she touched me over them.

"Darling, you're so wet. Is all of this for me?" she whispered in my ear.

"You know very well the effect you have on me," I responded with a moan as she pressed against my needy mound.

"Go to the infirmary to get that checked out; it might have triggered an allergic reaction," Dina seemed genuinely concerned. I felt a little under the weather and gave her a weak smile. I resumed eating calmly; Dina had asked about my patrol, and I told her it was nothing special, just a few infected, nothing as exciting as hers.

"You know, one of the patrol guys asked about you today. He wanted to know if you're single. I told him yes. Do you want to try going on a date with him?" I looked at her wide-eyed. Ellie scowled.

"Why did you say she was available?" Her tone was irritable.

"What do you mean? She's not with anyone, Ellie. We've never seen her with a guy or a girl; she's too shy for that kind of thing," Dina replied as if it were obvious.

Ellie had left me completely naked in front of her; her fingers were now buried inside me, moving in a way she knew I liked. I was seeing stars, my hand was in her hair, and while her mouth sucked on one of my breasts, the movements were getting faster and more rhythmic with each passing second.

"Come on, baby, tell me who you belong to," her voice was sensual, and she now had her forehead against mine, not stopping her fingers for a moment.

"To you, Ellie, it's always been you," I responded between moans and sighs.

"Are you going on a date with him?" Dina asked, with a curious gleam in her eyes.

"I'm not really feeling it, Di. You know I'm more laid-back. Besides, I'm interested in someone else too," I replied, trying to end the subject before she started speculating.

Ellie looked at me with a mischievous smile on her lips. "What? How come? You never said anything. Who's the lucky one?" Dina was ecstatic now, looking like she had won a week off, ready to hear all the details about my love life.

"You'll know at the right time," I replied, smiling at her, which made her wilt like a delicate flower in the hot sun.

Dina crossed her arms, lips forming a disapproving pout as she looked at me. "You're so boring," her voice sounded petulant and deflated, as if she were disappointed not to squeeze more information out of me. Dina started rambling about other topics, while Ellie stared at me with intense and sparkling eyes, licking her lips and giving me a sideways smile.

Her mouth on mine was fierce, I was almost at my limit because of her fingers. In that fleeting moment, all my senses were consumed by the taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath, and the electrifying touch of her skin against mine. It was as if time stood still, and there were only the two of us, intertwined in a dance of desire and longing.

"Darling, come to me," she whispered in my ear, and then I saw flowers and explosions of colors. "You're perfect, my love."

"Well, I have to go. Jesse said he wanted to spend some time together. Kisses," Dina stood up and hurriedly left. Ellie scooted closer in her chair and looked at me.

"So, you're interested in someone?"

"You know who I was talking about," I replied, a little embarrassed, but I didn't shy away from her beautiful eyes.

"I also like you and everything about you, darling," she took one of my hands and kissed it. I smiled at her. "But don't think I don't know what was going through your perverted mind the whole conversation," she laughed.

"Shut up, it's all your fault," I could feel my cheeks burning.

"You're so cute, my love."

#ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #dina tlou #the last of us

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potatomountain · 8 months

Text

*739 Seonghwa

*739 Masterlist

Synopsis: with sex work legal, it was as readily available as texting *739, filling out the form sent, and setting a time and place with an easy charge to your credit card. Even the more hefty kinks could be fulfilled with a professionalism that was respected, and could be addicting.

Word count: 7k

AN: so a little late as well as this wa supposed to be for a happy 5 years with Ateez <3 I just overestimated myself whoops. So to be fair- Wooyoung's will be delayed until I get back [so sometime in November] but Hongjoong's will be released around Halloween ^^

Also I barely edited so sorry if there are mistakes!

Warnings below the cut! Taglist at the bottom!

Smut warnings: food play, dom Seonghwa, use of toys in public, masturbation, multiple orgasms, oral [fem recieving], praise, 'Mommy' kink, breeding kink, food kink- body worship, aftercare, lil angst, unprotected sex, paid sex, sex worker. Sexual depictions and use of food!

This couldn’t be right- you’re ‘date’ for the night couldn’t be him.

He was fucking gorgeous.

Blonde hair that was practically white with half of it styled back to expose his forehead and gorgeous features. The black suit he wore with golden accents trimmed to his tall and slender body; his waist alone had you biting down on your lip just to remember the red lipstick you wore. Despite the deep red and black dress hugging your body, the most elegant cocktail dress you had, he made you feel underdressed.

You wanted to assume he was someone else’s date, but that was the table the host had motioned you towards, informing you that the other party had arrived. He hadn’t noticed you just yet, fiddling with a small black box and a rose that was on the table, which gave you plenty of time to drink him in. You weren’t alone in that endeavor, plenty of other people in the elegant restaurant were staring because even in the dim lights he was ethereal

It took several moments to remind yourself that this wasn’t a date- this was an arrangement you were paying for. The reminder surged you forward, stepping up to the semi secluded table on the far side of the restaurant- while it was still in sight of half the tables nearby, it was meant to give a sense of privacy and kept you out of earshot- that was why you had reserved this particular table.

He looked up when you approached, moving to stand up with a gentlemanly smile and your name on his lips like a question.

“Yes, that’s me. You must be Seonghwa then?” When he nodded your lips lifted in a smile but internally you were screaming.

You had no idea how you were going to handle the things you were paying him to do to you, not when his mere gaze had you hot all over. You were so fucked, flushing as he moved to pull your chair out for you and motioned for you to sit. Smoothing out your dress you did, thanking him under your breath as he pushed it forward.

A second later he was sitting across from you, a small smile on his lips as his eyes ran over you. After a moment of small talk, the waiter approached. Unsure just what to eat, considering what was going to happen after, you had glanced over at the model-worthy man across from you, both surprised and not when he ordered for you based on your preferences. Once the waiter was gone he turned to you, his smile a bit sheepish. “I hope you are alright with what I picked.”

You nodded, reaching for the glass of wine he offered. “Is that why you asked for my food preferences?”

“One of them. We discussed a lot over text earlier today after all, and I take pride in my job; I want to make sure you are taken care of properly during our time together, and that means eating food you’ll enjoy that still can be used for the purposes we intended. Speaking of- I’d like to know what items you bought from the list I sent you.”

You thought back to the conversation you had over text this morning, mentally going over each message until you could visualize the list. “I’ve never done this before so I just bought the basics I guess? Whipped cream, chocolate syrup, meltable chocolate that’s… safe, and a few things of fruit: mostly strawberries. I, uh, also bought some of the gelatin you recommended.”

He nodded, seeming pleased with your answer. “That’s more than enough, I might not use it all.”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you thought about just how he would be using those items, wondering where as well. It had you shifting in your chair and rubbing your thighs together. “I did everything else you asked as well. My home is clean, the fruits are clean, I showered, shaved, and pampered my skin. I’m-” You broke off, nibbling on your bottom lip and gripped your skirt, unable to finish the thought out loud. But from the way his gaze darkened he knew what you were going to say, what you were about to point out, heat pooling in your core.

“You follow directions well then, and the dress looks beautiful- I can hardly tell you’re lacking undergarments.” His smile turned coy, now holding out the small box to you. “Let’s change that. Finish your glass of wine and then go open this in the bathroom. You’ll know what to do.”

Swallowing hard, you took the box from him with a nod, struggling to find words, his straightforwardness throwing you off. “Y-yes.” Forgetting the first part of his order you stood up and hurried off to the restroom, even more self conscious of your lack of underwear now. When you glanced back at him, the cocky look on his features sent another wave of heat through you and you wondered if you would make it through dinner without soaking your dress in your own arousal.

How fucking hot would it be if you did?

Once in the bathroom you locked the door, opening the box after a few deep breaths but it just knocked the wind out of your lungs all over. A small pair of black underwear lay neatly folding in the box with a small handwritten note that said: Wear me. Feeling the fabric in between your fingers a groan escaped you- they were vibrating underwear.

“Fucking hell how am I going to make it through dinner?” Muttering to yourself you still followed directions, cleaning up the bit of slick between your legs before putting on the panties, noting the absence of the remote. He probably had it, and you wondered when he was going to use it.

Attempting to shake the thought off you washed your hands, taking your lipstick out of your small handbag and reapplying where you believed it had messed up. It was matte, unlikely to come off easily, but it had you paranoid still. It certainly helped for a moment, taking your mind off the fact that with every step you could feel the part of the underwear that rubbed against your clit, knowing it was going to vibrate at some point; the anticipation alone had your heart rate picking up.

Exiting the bathroom you debated on taking more time, but as soon as you saw him sitting at the table the thought was banished. His grin widened as he curled his fingers as if to say come here. You were about halfway to the table when it started, the briefest second sending a jolt up your body, tensing up your muscles and your eyes going wide. You thanked the heavens you didn’t make a sound, but you were frozen in place as you waited, expecting the vibration to start again.

It didn’t need to, not with the dark look Seonghwa was watching you with as you approached the table and took your seat. “You really do follow directions so well, such a good girl.”

The praise hit you hard, knowing that these panties, and your dress, would certainly be ruined before dinner was over. “Is this normal for you? Toying with your clients in public?”

He shrugged, sitting so elegantly in his seat and bringing the wine to his lips. “My usual sessions are a bit more vanilla than this, so I have to admit my excitement got ahead of me. It is part of what you asked for though, what we discussed. What was it you said exactly? Oh right-” His grin turned sensual, lighting your nerves on fire, “- you want to be wined and dined and teased before you’re eaten like a meal yourself. Isn’t that right?”

When he said it you couldn't help but get flustered, your fantasy seeming much more sinful. There were aspects to it that most certainly were, but none as sinful as this man.

Attempting to leash in your thoughts you cleared your throat, nodding and ignoring your heated cheeks. "Y-yes, that's the gist of it." You knew it was much more than that, parts of your fantasy, of what you went over, that went deeper than food.

"Then be a good girl for Mommy and I'll treat you right, Sugar."

You weren't sure what was the cause of the soft noise you let out; what he said, how he said it, the title and pet name, or the sudden harsh vibrations against your clit- but you had been so startled you couldn't fight it back.

He seemed pleased with himself, the vibrations stopping as he motioned for the wine you still hadn't finished. After what he just said, how could you refuse?

Only as you brought the wine to your lips, the vibrations shot through you, this time not stopping until the glass was empty. Panting and setting the glass down with shaking hands only to be met with praise for him.

That was the start of a vicious cycle throughout dinner. He would give an order subtly, whether by motioning to your wine, water, or food once that arrived. While you carried out the order, he would turn the panties on, stopping the moment you did- whether it was because you were finished or were getting too lost in the pleasure to continue the task- following up with praise.

Teasing you, edging you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Whenever the waiter or staff came to the table he would hit the remote and turn it up, bringing a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet. It was no easy feat, especially when they had dropped the food off and taken their time leaving; you had almost come, only for him to tell you that you weren't allowed to do so in the restaurant.

A sinful Angel was a perfect way to describe him; his beauty overall ethereal, both masculine and feminine and only matched by the teasing nature and subtle tones of domination he let out through playful smirks, smoldering gazes, and subtle commands.

For a moment, you were sure you didn't pay nearly enough for this- for him. He was all yours for tonight, for this fantasy, which was priceless to you. You certainly weren't going to complain though, and he wasn't giving you a moment to do so, leaving you too wrapped up in his fingers without even touching you.

The entire dinner he hadn't touched you once, the only sign of his enjoyment was the heat in his eyes and the occasional lip bite you would catch out of the corner of your eye when he didn't think you were paying attention.

How could you focus on anything but him? Other than what he was doing to you?

The underwear was soaked by the time you were done clearing your plate, hoping there would be no dessert, in desperate need to leave the restaurant just so you could cum- just so he would touch you. But despite the look of disappointment on your features, dessert was ordered.

An ice cream and cake dish- lava cake with a scoop of vanilla bean on top with chocolate shavings and drizzle. The table was cleared and it was brought out, but Seonghwa was no longer sitting across from you.

He had allowed you to go to the restroom, only for you to return with both of your seats side by side facing the rest of the restaurant. A bit apprehensive you sat down when he pulled the chair out for you, eyes on the dessert as he pushed you forward. Unlike before he didn't pull away, instead leaning in until you could feel his breath on your neck. The softest touch of his lips shook you to your core even more than the vibration of the panties as he clicked them on.

"You're shaking, Sugar, does it feel that good?"

This close you could tell his voice was laced with arousal, the realization dashing away the words on your tongue so you nodded instead.

His lips moved up to your ear, kissing the shell. "Fuck I can't wait to get a taste of you, can't stop thinking about how sweet you're going to taste. You make the most delicious expressions already, I've almost broken the rules a few times- now included."

His confession threw you through a loop, the ground feeling as shaky as your underwear. He had been so calm and collected through dinner you would have never guessed he wanted you so much.

The realization that he did warmed your body in entirely different ways than before but you chalked his desire up to the fantasy, to the scenario, not specifically you. If you let yourself get that delusional you weren't sure your heart could make it out of this in one piece.

Odd thought that, developing a school girl crush on the sex worker you were paying to fulfill your deepest sexual and intimate desires- and over the course of one dinner.

So lost in your own thoughts you hadn't realized he was sitting down next to you now, not until his knee bumped into yours, drawing your attention. "Come on, Sugar, don't space out yet. Focus on me."

Still in a bit of a lustfilled- among other things- date you turned to him slowly, eyes on the dessert that sat in front of you both. Ice cream… you wondered how that would feel on your body.

The slight jerk of your chin didn't let you wonder at eye, your eyes meeting warm brown depths under furrowed brows. "Focus on me." He repeated in a more commanding tone.

"O-okay, I'm focused."

"Focused on?"

Confused by his prompt, and distraction by his thumb nudging your bottom lip, it took a moment for the light bulb to light up, your cheeks burning at the realization.

Batting your eyelashes you tried to act a little cute, looking up at him while tilting your chin down in submission. "F-focused on you, Mommy."

The sly smile that spread across his gorgeous lips had your breath lodging in your throat, not that your shamelessness hadn't already affected your breathing already. "That's my good girl. Now, part those pretty red lips for me and say ah."

Without questioning it you did, gaze unwavering from his as he brought a bite of the ice cream to your mouth, taking it slow. This was the foreplay, just as the rest of dinner had been, yet this felt far more intimate.

With each bite you opened your mouth and shut it when he said, swallowing when he said, not once taking your eyes off him despite how much his constant praises were flustering you. You forgot entirely where you were, hands on your lap just itching to reach out and touch him, to beg to be touched. You were practically number to everything but him and what he wanted you to do.

Halfway through the dessert he dropped his hand from your jaw and started up the vibratory again. You gasped around the bite in your mouth, your throbbing clit already so sensitive you didn't think you could take much more.

It seemed like he knew that, biting down on his lip he glanced down at your lap with the softest groan you would have missed it if you weren't so attuned to him. But neither of you acknowledged it just yet as he fed you yet another bite. And then another.

When he tried to give you the last bite you shook your head, whining and squirming in your seat glad the table kept your lower half out of view from the other people in the restaurant. "Mommy- I can't- please I'm gonna come- '' Breathless you pleaded, for either sweet release or for it to stop but you just couldn't keep your orgasm at bay any longer.

"I know baby, take this last bite and hold my hand, squeeze it while you make a mess of those panties." He held the bite out to your lips again and you eagerly took it. He set the spoon aside and held his hand out on your thigh palm up, not at all surprised with the tight grip you latched onto him with.

You couldn't even register the taste or texture of the cake, just grateful for it's presence to muffle the moan that reverberated up your throat when your climax hit. We were still gushing into the fabric when Seonghwa turned it off, leaning in and running his tongue along the corner of your lips.

Still shaking from aftershocks of your orgasm you could only stare as he pulled away just enough for you to see how long his tongue was as he licked his own lips, staring you down. "I bet you're a pretty fucking mess down there, Sugar. Can't wait to lick you clean."

Heated energy sizzles between the two of you two for a moment before, as if a trance was broken, Seonghwa was standing with your hand still in his. "I already paid and you did take an uber here correct?"

You nodded, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, legs still shaking. You didn't think anyone would be able to see the mess you made of the dress, but if you didn't get your fucked out expression off, people would certainly question. Clearing your throat, taking a deep breath, you forced a shaky smile. "Yes, and I messaged you my address earlier?"

"Already saved in the GPS. It's a short drive but there is enough time for a little more foreplay."

Brimming with anticipation, you managed to school your expression as the two of you left. You were surprised by the nice black sedan he led you to, the cozy leather seat he helped you into, but really you shouldnt be that surprised considering how much you paid him. The term 'sugar daddy' came to mind at first, quickly replaced by 'sugar momma'. Once more you fought the ever growing crush, warning yourself nothing good would come of this.

He certainly didn't help, not when his idea of foreplay was telling you just how to fuck yourself to make the biggest mess you could on his leather seats. He had you face him, legs spread but keeping the panties on. He controlled the vibrations but he had you steadily pushing two fingers into your sobbing cunt, pushing yourself to the edge but not once did he let you come, just make a mess.

He had barely touched you, hadn't even kissed you, and he's driven you to such a messy fucked out state that it was almost surreal. He's pulled out a side of you past lovers couldn't manage, which just had you melting I'm his figurative hands more.

"M-mommy, please- wanna cum." You whined out again, hips gyrating against the underwear and your fingers, watching him shamelessly. When you heard the click of the remote you let out a cry of desperation, fingers stopping knuckle deep in your pulsating cunt as he had instructed your fingers to stop anytime the underwear did.

"Soon, Sugar." He hissed through clenched teeth, both hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white, you were surprised he hadn't snapped the remote in half. "This is it yes?" He pulled up to your modest home in a somewhat upscale neighborhood.

You nodded, sitting up a bit straighter as you stared at your house, the usual sense of dread.of coming home to an empty home was replaced with anticipation for what would happen once the two of you walked inside. "This is it."

While he pulled into the driveway you moved your fingers a few times unable to help yourself, but the soft squelching sounds gave you away rather fast, your disobedience stopping with your name as a warning.

You attempted a sheepish smile when he turned the car off, only to be thrown off as your hand was ripped from your cunt and fingers brought to his lips. With bugging eyes you watched him suck and lick your juices off your appendages, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight and even more juices gushing out of you.

The near primal groan that left him as his eyes rolled back just turned you on even more. "Holy fuck you taste so sweet, Sugar. Mommy's favorite fucking treat." It was the first time he fully lost his cool, showing off the ways he could use his long tongue and driving you crazy. There was enough heat in his gaze you felt like you were going to melt.

He dropped your hand when it was clean, leaning over the armrest as if he was about to clean up the mess between your legs- he stopped close enough you could feel his breath on your clothed, soaked core, leaving you frozen with anticipation.

"Not here- not yet." He muttered more to himself as he straightened up and cleared his throat. He got out of the car while you were still trying to process what was happening, somehow managing to sit right in your seat before your door was flung open. "Come on Sugar, let's head inside before I completely derail the night."

He stepped aside and helped you out, shutting the door a bit roughly behind you once you had your bag. With his hand on the small of your back he led you up to your door, keeping a respectable distance despite what had happened moments ago.

You were eager to get inside, fumbling with your keys until you were pushing the door open and kicking off your heels as you stumbled into the entrance. You heard the door shut behind you as you made your way through your house, turning on lights and heading for the kitchen.

Seonghwa was right behind you, the soft pad of his feet giving him away. You made it to the island counter before you were swung around by your wrist, lips crashing down on yours. He was gentle but also desperate, like he was devouring you with each stroke of his lips. His tongue prodded for entrance and you happily gave it, moaning as he explored your mouth.

His hands busied themselves with pulling you out of the dress and letting it fall to the floor. Pushing your panties down to your knees he picked you up and set you down on the counter. "Where are the-"

"In the fridge, front and center." You answered immediately, kicking the underwear off completely and leaving yourselves bare to him. "H-how does this work exactly?"

Seonghwa, on his way to your fridge, glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow. "It's really simple: I cover all the parts of you I want to devour with sweet treats to make you sweeter and then… then I devour you." He turned back to the fridge and found the items immediately, smiling at the small bowl of cut strawberries next to everything else you mentioned. He pulled out the whipped cream and strawberries, searching for the melted chocolate.

Trying your best not to gush at his words, in more ways than one, you watched him place the edible items on the island. "The melted chocolate is in that bowl there." You motioned to a covered tupperware, as the instructions had said to leave it at room temp.

Chuckling he brought that over as well, taking a moment to drink you in with his gaze. "Lay back and spread your legs."

Obliging immediately, you kept yourself propped on your elbows just so you could watch him. First he pulled his jacket off, setting it on the counter before undoing his shirt. He folded first the jacket and then the shirt, taking his time while keeping his eyes on you- more so your pussy on display.

His pants went last, also folded up and set neatly aside leaving him in just the name brand boxer briefs that suited him well and did nothing to hide the bulge, or wet spot from his precum. He adjusted himself before stepping over, looking at his options. "The first part of a good meal would be presentation. So excuse me a moment Sugar, while I dress you up." He hummed out, hands running up your body from your knees, over your sides, up to your breasts where he gave a gentle squeeze, no doubt debating on just how he would do that.

You just let him have his way, eyes fixated on his every movement as he started with the whipped cream. Along the curve of your neck and the dips in your clavicle, around each nippled, a trail down your stomach and over your inner thighs which were still sticky with your own slick- he decorated you nicely with the cream alone.

Pleased, he tapped your jaw in a silent command to open, spilling some of the whipped cream into your mouth in a small mound. "Hold that there."

Next was the strawberries which he strategically placed. One on top of the mound in your mouth and several framing your cunt like a crown, with three in between your breasts like a trail. The melted chocolate however he kept aside, instead hovering above you as his eyes followed the path he had laid out with food. "You know… I actually love strawberries." He stated, lips diving down to pick up one from between your breasts with his teeth.

He brought his tongue to your breast next, puckering the peak with his teeth in between skillful licks of the cream. The sight of him was enough to full your stomach with liquid arousal, but with how messy it felt and good? You wondered if he was going to make you come without even touching your cunt.

After what he's shown you so far- you had full faith that he could.

He took his time devouring you, switching between eating one of the strawberries or licking up a section of the cream, keeping his focus on your torso. When he ran his tongue up the length of your neck, picking up the trail of cream there, you moaned, muffled by the cream still waiting to be taken from your mouth.

He wasted no time, shoving his tongue between your lips and scooping the small treat out in one fell swoop before kissing you deep and messy, huskily whispering your name against your lips.

When you had decided to pay for this fantasy, this was not how you pictured things going: it was better.

They way he used his lips and tongue to scoop up the cream and fruit on your body had the desired effect on you, while his supposed need with each touch just intensified it. It was sexual but intimate in a way that was almost loving.

Worshiping you.

You were in a daze when he pulled his lips away, your chin and lips as a mess of drool and spit and cream. Yet he stared down at you as if you looked even more beautiful this way, his tongue dipping out to lick his own lips. You couldn't wait to have his tongue elsewhere.

So you begged, reaching up and cupping his cheek, panting. "I want to feel your mouth on my pussy Mommy- please? I've been good right?"

He groaned, peppering your lips with quick kisses as he pushed your legs open. "Since my Sugar asked so nicely-" He moved down your body, turning his head to kiss the inside of your knees, humming deep in his throat as he licked and nipped his way up your inner thighs, taking in the cream that had settled on your flesh. He was messy with it, and you were beginning to think he liked it messy.

You would gladly be a mess for him, any day, any time, any where.

You loved what he was doing to you, especially when he found out you liked him biting you. He marked up your thighs until no cream was left, leaving just one last dessert.

His face was so close, breath fanning over your soaked lips, leaving your clit throbbing, but he took his time to admire the view. "Such a pretty sweet treat, Sugar. Mommy's going to enjoy this meal."

He dove in without hesitation, taking a swipe of cream before lapping up your slick around your lips. He moaned at the taste of you,n fingers digging into your flesh as he ate you out like you truly were the best meal of his life.

Boy did he know how to use his tongue and lips, driving you crazy. He alternated between sucking on your clit and shoving his tongue between your lips while his nose rubbed just right.

He didn't speak, too engrossed in fucking you with his tongue to do so, but he made plenty of sounds that showed his enjoyment. The moan he let out when you came on his tongue was positively sinful but he didn't stop.

He didn't stop until you were coming again and harder- soaking his face and chin. He didn't stop until you had cried so much you were incoherent. Only then did he start kissing his way up your trembling body. "That's it Sugar, making such a pretty mess for Mommy. Going to ruin you on my cock before I have one last fucking taste of you." He stopped to suck each of your nipples into a hard peak, biting on the areola.

"Mommy-" you gasped out as he pulled you roughly to the edge. Capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. "Please-!"

"Fuck Sugar, keep begging for me." He pushed his underwear down, his cock flopping against your cunt with a soft slap that had you whimpering. "My cock is just as hungry for this delicious pussy as I am- and I'm not stopping until it's had its fill."

"Oh fuck yes please Mommy. Want your cock so bad." You could feel his shaft rubbing between your pussy lips, soaking himself with your cum, your eagerness growing each time his cockhead hit your clit.

He seemed just as eager, biting down on his lip while he reached for the forgotten melted chocolate. Barely registering it in your lust filled daze, you were caught by surprise as he drizzled the chocolate over you: your chest, tits, and stomach then back up your throat to your lips. You help your tongue out for it, letting the little bit left drip down into your mouth despite still feeling full from dinner.

Purposely letting some slip out of your mouth you were rewarded by Seonghwa's guttural groan. "God damn- I don't even have to tell you. So fucking eager to be a mess for Mommy." Setting the bowl down, his eyes didn't move from your face as he pushed himself inside slowly.

With a strawberry he reached up and swiped your mixture of drool and chocolate off your lips then fed it to you. The second strawberry he fed you with his own lips, locking them in a kiss as his cock bottomed out inside. This kiss was slow and easy, savoring every taste and swipe of your lips without the desperation to devour you like before. He gave you both time to adjust, body flush against yours from hips to lips.

The sight of chocolate smeared on his chest when he stood up was almost as delicious as the first thrust of his cock. He was big, not monstrous, but you could feel him poking at your stomach. Pussy and stomach full, you bad to admit your heart felt full as well.

"Gorgeous. So damned gorgeous like this. You like it when Mommy takes care of you? Feeds you and pampers you? Then eat you?"

"Yes yes yes-"

"I do too Sugar. You take very good care of Mommy like this- the best fucking thing I've tasted. You like my cock too?" He accentuated the question with a harsh thrust, his hands moving over your body to rub the chocolate in.

You couldn't deny he was as into this as much as you were- that he loved this as much as you did- not with the way he looked at you or the raw emotion in his words. "L-love Mommy's cock. So good!"

Your arms hadn't been able to hold you up for some time now but with each thrust you had to grip the edge of the counter above you to hold on. It took everything in you to keep watching him; the twists of his expressions, the heat from his gaze making you feel as if this chocolate was freshly melted and hot against your skin- you wanted to see it all.

"And Mommy loves your sweet cunt. On my tongue, on my cock, on any part of me I want it."

There were only a few strawberries left but he used them to swipe up chocolate off of your neck and touch them to your lips, groaning each time you obediently ate the sweet treat. When he ran out of those, he used his tongue to clean off as much of it as he could, biting down on softer flesh as his thrusts became harsher and more erratic.

It was the way he sucked on your throat while his cock brushed against your sweet spot that had you creaming on his cock and crying out. His hips stuttered before he went harsher, purposely hitting the same spot with encouraging mutters to come undone again.

Scooping up some of the chocolate on two fingers he pushed them between your lips, holding them there and pressing your tongue down while he captured your gaze with his. Your head was buzzing still with orgasmic bliss, but you swore the way he looked at you was the exact way you always wanted someone to look at you for this.

Either he was a really good actor, or he found the mess you were so endearing you wouldn't be surprised if there were hearts in his eyes. You probably had some in yours, staring up at him as his praises stumbled into one another under your muffled moans. "That's it. Such a pretty fucking mess. The sweetest Sugar- so addicting- holy fuck I'm going to fill you up, make you an even sweeter cream pie. Fill you up with babies and breed you like a bakery oven. Fatten you up and devour you over and over- Fucking hell I'll be your God damn Mommy then, Sugar."

Breeding kink wasn't on your list but God damn when he said things like that to you- your head went blank and filled with so much cotton you saw white as he brought you to another core shattering climax that had you shaking and drooling.

He was too, burying his cock deep and filling you up as he promised, drool slipping down his chin and tongue out.

Time flowed both quickly and too slow then, the ringing in your ears left you feeling detached from your mind while your numb limbs left you feeling detached from your body. You barely registered when he pulled out of you, staring blankly up at his features when he sat you up in his arms and peppered your face with sweet, adoring kisses.

"You did so well."

Your only reply was a satisfied sound, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were aware he was still inside you as he walked, only realizing where the moment you were sat down on your bathroom counter. "M-mommy?"

"Shhh, baby, I'm right here." Cupping your head he brought his face close for you to focus. "We're going to take a shower now alright? Mommy will wash you up and get you ready for bed. Do you think you can stand?"

You nodded, blushing at the obvious concern on his pretty face. "Yeah- I can."

He still helped you into the shower, standing in the way of the water as it warmed up before he guided you under the warm stream and was true to his word: he washed you up. Even got on his knee and had you lift your legs so he could wash every inch, including between your toes.

He was so focused and careful with your sensitive bits you felt your heart squeeze. "I'm sorry to ask but- what are your sexual preferences and kinks? Can you tell me that?"

He looked up at you, hand stilling on your thigh where he had been admiring a bite mark. "We usually don't discuss-"

"I want to know. I-I need to know." You interrupted him, suddenly filled with a desperation you believed was from nowhere. "Your honest answer… please."

Slowly he stood, brows pushed together as he eyed you critically. "Sugar…" With a sigh of resignation he tucked your hair behind your ears, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Go use the restroom and head to your room- I'm going to wash up and then I'll join you." Clearly about to protest, he rushed on- "I'll answer your questions then, but first I know you probably need to use the toilet so go first."

He wasn't wrong, but you reluctantly left the shower, letting him wrap you on a towel before you left him.

Only a few moments later, once you did as he said, did he join you in your room, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and a smile that almost felt too bright. "You really listen so well."

You just nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed in the towel, eyes locked on his frame as he stepped closer. "Will you tell me now?"

"Of course." He busied himself immediately with drying your hair with the extra towel he brought, standing just before you. "My personal preferences were in play a lot tonight. I enjoy taking care of my partner, in all the ways I've taken care of you tonight and more. Food play isn't something that I'd want to do all the time, but I enjoyed it far more than I have before."

He dropped the towel around your shoulders, tilting your head back to look at him. "You wanted to make sure I really wanted you, right? That I enjoyed every bit of this, just as much as you did? Am I right?"

There had been a few times you had been positively sure he had, but he was right: you needed confirmation. "That's right."

"Hmmm-" He softened, bringing you to your feet so he could dry off the rest of your body. "First answer me something- why was this so important to you? This fantasy?"

Now that was a loaded question, one that would take far too long to answer and reveal far too many personal things that he didn't need to know.

Even if a part of you wanted him to know everything.

"Let's just talk it up to Mommy issues and a bad streak with relationships left me desperate to feel loved… is that good enough of an answer?"

He nodded, his frown deepening. "Yes. And to answer yours… I did. I wanted you every second tonight and enjoyed it all. It almost feels like a crime that you paid for this."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, not when your heart felt like it had started a marathon, so you just watched him meticulously dry off every inch of you.

You didn't know how to tell him that those words took care of a part of you that felt impossible to reach. You weren't sure you wanted to tell him. What would he think of you? As you two had been strangers before tonight.

So you kept quiet, watching as he scoured your room for pajamas before bringing over a cute pair back to you. The smile was back on his face as he dressed you, no commands needed as you just did what he wanted without a thought. It was easy following his lead, you didn't even need to hear the commands.

"Such a good girl for me, Sugar, but now it's time for bed." He picked you up with ease, carrying you around and laying you down before you could protest. "Do you want some water or something? Do you need anything for indigestion or pain?" He looked you over before pulling the blanket tight over you, but his jaw dropped when he looked at your face again. "Sugar? Why do you look so hurt?"

"Stay." You blurted out, fighting off tears as you reached out to grab his wrists. "Just for tonight, you don't have to be here in the morning… just please Seonghwa- I don't want to be alone after this."

He melted under your pleas, bringing your hand to his lips. "Of course Sugar, I'll take care of you any way you need tonight."

Despite knowing it was just for tonight, just as he said, relief flooded you. Your hand went lax in his grip as you relaxed into the pillows, nodded.

He didn't join you right away, instead leaving to fetch his clothes first. When he came back his underwear was back on but he set his folded suit on your corner chair, then thankfully slid into bed opposite you.

Hesitant at first, you watched him, only to squirm into his arms when he motioned you into them. He held you close, pressing kisses to your forehead and temple until you were putty in his arms.

Sleep didn't elude you for long, what a godsend a warm embrace could do for the tired soul.

"If I'm lucky enough to have you again, I hope I can prove to you how lovable you are, Sugar. In fact I might be a little desperate to do so."

You almost mistook his words for a dream in your half-asleep state, but the soft way he whispered your name against your brow and his warm hold were proof it wasn't.

You truly felt loved as sleep pulled you under.

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