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#like this is the first time my colleagues are also my friends and it makes such a difference
ham1lton · 2 days
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TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.
— part of my maneater series.
Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.
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Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.
NUMBER ONE: IPAD
Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.
NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES
Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i’m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.
NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.
Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!
OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?
Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!
NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG
Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.
NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.
Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.
OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?
Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!
NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS
Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.
NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.
Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.
NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD
Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.
NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE
Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.
NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE
Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.
(she fastens it around her neck quickly)
Y/N: now i feel normal again.
NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS
Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.
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author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!
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fuckyeahisawthat · 2 days
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One of the most interesting things about the Atreides characters to me is the constant tension between formal and informal power dynamics going on in that House.
Leto and Jessica seem to have a fairly equitable relationship where they genuinely love and respect each other. This rests entirely on the fact that Leto is generally a Good Dude on an interpersonal level, who like, sees Jessica as a person and recognizes and appreciates her intelligence, skills and political acumen. While concubine to the head of a Great House seems to be a fairly high-status role in their world, we know it is not equal in social standing to the role of a wife, and certainly not equal to the male head of the House. Leto does treat Jessica as his equal informally, but by the social rules of their world he certainly doesn't have to.
Similarly, Leto treats Gurney, Duncan and Thufir like trusted colleagues and confidantes, and while they formally treat him with a certain amount of deference (addressing him as Sire or my Lord and accepting that he will be the final authority on things), it's also clear that informally, none of them are hesitant to speak their minds in front of him, offer suggestions or contradict him on something.
Paul's relationships with Duncan and Gurney are similarly complex. They're both older than him and serve as his mentors/teachers. Neither of them are afraid to tease him, challenge him, or reprimand him when they think he's doing something risky. They love him in an almost-familial way and would protect him with their lives. It seems like Paul would like to be friends with them on equal terms. But formally they are both his servants. Or, more precisely, while Leto is alive they are his father's servants and know they have Leto to answer to if anything should happen to his son.
The moments when the formal power dynamics assert themselves are always fascinating. When Paul and Gurney are first reunited, I would say Gurney is still treating Paul like a Duke's son and not a Duke. He's loyal and he is overjoyed to know Paul is still alive, but he still calls Paul by his first name and talks to him like he's giving advice to someone who's still learning. But then there is that moment when Paul pulls rank and gives Gurney a direct order to go to the south and Gurney's demeanor immediately shifts. He only ever addresses Paul as my Lord after that, and he treats him with a deference that makes it clear they are lord and vassal, not friends or family members.
(And like, technically once Leto is dead, Paul is the Duke and everyone in House Atreides is Paul's vassal--including Jessica. Practically when it comes to Paul giving Jessica an order she does not want to follow...well I would like to see him fucking try.)
Leto's leadership style with those close to him seems very much based on creating a familial, mutually protective vibe that wins him intense loyalty. (It is really interesting to see him try this on Stilgar who doesn't buy it for a second.) We see Paul try to emulate that, possibly with an even more intense longing for relationships of genuine equality that's born out of growing up with no peers of his same age and status around him.
But there is still always a little bit of power imbalance, because the chill vibes rely entirely on the continued benevolence of the Atreides men, and that benevolence can be withdrawn at any time.
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hella1975 · 1 year
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i know i complain about my job but that's bc it IS a job not a hobby alas there are silver linings to it and one of those by far is how genuinely happy my work friends are to see me whenever i come back from uni. like the one girl im really close with gave me a massive hug and was fuming with me when i told her im only back for the one shift (she also tackled me to the kitchen floor and all the chefs conveniently 'didn't see anything' when i appealed for witnesses 😐) and the Bar Boys as they've come to be named like a fucked up pub boyband (we obviously have a lot of bar staff but there's a couple lads that are there most often and are also around my age and are all like. the really endearing actually sweet kind of fuckboy? strawberry guy is one of them. im not proud of myself) were all so happy to see me bc a lot of us went out together on new year's and they all get weirdly excited asking about how uni is etc and it's all very flirty but like. the jokey platonic kind yk. and the kp that's SO rude to almost all of the waitresses except her favourites literally shouted 'oi where the bloody hell have you been???' over several other people when she saw me and she's so chatty to me to the point it impacts my work lmao and i was joking with all the chefs bc im mates with a couple of them and there was a lot of 'oh god she's back' from the lads and just excited squeals of my name from the girls and strawberry guy came over to me when i was having a drink at the bar after work and tried to convince me to come in tomorrow to see him again before i go to uni even though i live miles away in the sticks and yeah. i love them lol
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saturnsfather · 2 years
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okay so i was talking with my boyfriend about this post i made and we ended up talking a lot about the different character’s routes and their interpretations and he said some really interesting stuff so im gonna summarize it for YOU dear pathologic fan because its neat
the first game feels like. okay so yknow how in some shows there’ll be a Bit where an Event happens but we dont see the Event, we just see the characters involved talking about the Event, and we get each of the characters perspectives on the Event but each are wildly different and wildly wrong in their own ways? thats the first game. discounting each of the different endings, each of the healers is remembering what happened in the town from their own perspectives and with their own biases coloring their views of events
so Daniil, of course, mostly recalls that he had to Do Everything Himself. he was all alone, artemy and clara were off doing whatever but HE was doing the hard stuff HE was getting beaten up by the kin HE was getting almost killed by soldiers. Artemy was. i dunno. making some potions or whatever. Clara was just being spooky. who cares HE WAS DOING THE HARD STUFF
Artemy, on the other hand, does truly try to see the best in everyone, and so when Daniil helps him, he remembers that, and remembers Daniil in a positive light. thats why Daniil is so prevalent in his route. Clara was, again, just kind of being spooky, and only really helped him near the end, but Artemy’s route is, arguably, the one where the three of them have the best relationships
and then Clara. Clara is so set in her way of thinking, however she developed it, that upon receiving her premonitions of Daniil razing the town and Artemy spilling blood through the streets, immediately set them both in the “dangerous and destructive” section of her mind and then never took them out. she took her first impressions of them and let everything that happened afterwards filter through those impressions, but ultimately she was so entrenched in her own responsibilities and attempts to fix things that she also relegated them to background noise. this is why they are just trying to kill each other the second half of the game (i know it was game design and her route was just really rushed and unfinished bear with me here). her view of the two of them are as demonic destroyers who she eventually helped set up as running around each other so they wouldnt bother her.
they are all unreliable narrators because no singular event is subjective in past tense. everything we remember as humans is colored by our biases and experiences. no event is truly singular. and perhaps the events truly are different, perhaps theres an element of multiverse theory in the game, but at the same time is it so hard to believe that they all just remember things differently?
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arthur-r · 2 years
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tonight has been a weird night but it’s about to get better because i just happened upon a completely roget edition of rogets thesaurus and it’s being sold on ebay for ten dollars
#i’m officially starting a thesaurus collection#of which i will gladly lend out thesauruses to my friends and colleagues don’t worry shdhdf#i currently have two of my own (the original one which i thought i had lost forever and the one i got as a replacement at half price books)#so it really wouldn’t be absurd to have three. thesauruses are real cheap and odds are my collection will only ever have four copies#(the original nostalgic one. my new 80s one. this roget one. and theoretically…. a first edition)#anyway the last thing i’m gonna do tonight before i go to bed is buy this thesaurus on the internet and then i have school in the morning#for the first time since months and months and months ago#well. month and month and month ago. shdhdhdf#anyway i was considering changing my url to rogets-thesaurus since i do have that url. but the school year is starting i can’t make a change#like that when the school year is starting. so i’m gonna be arthur r(oget) ok#anyway tomorrow morning is a wednesday so school starts late (9:00) but i’m getting picked up at 7:45#and i’m going to have some coffee (which will hopefully work correctly) and then get to school early#to put my lock on a locker and maybe say hi to people if i see somebody that i know. that part was tara’s idea#but in conclusion. i’m gonna go order that thesaurus. and then go to sleep#and in 1-2 weeks i will have a very exciting package in the mail#also exciting: i accidentally got a first british pressing of sophie’s world in the mail!! it was four dollars and happened to be from 1995#a replica of it is selling on etsy for $82!! there is definitely something to be said about collecting old and original books#but i’m very grateful to be coming into it for $10 or less each time#anyway love you guys see you in the morning expect a vaguely lower presence from me during school but i’m so volatile anyway that it#shouldn’t feel very drastic. i’ll see you all in a while and it is time to log off tumblr#but. yeah. very excited about the most roget thesaurus i’ve ever had the chance to get#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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kuromochimi · 2 months
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baby I’m nothing like your broke ex
gojo satoru, nanami kento
Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read
🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi
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Gojo Satoru
Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.
Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.
Nanami Kento
It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.
Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.
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aeyumicore · 2 months
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☾ .⭒˚ what's mine ♡ zayne x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, not canon events (completely fictional)
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.7k
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, first time sex with zayne (not virginity loss), jealous!zayne, dom!zayne, zayne slightly loses control of evol, furniture breaks, lot’s of teasing, fictional characters, size kink, vaginal sex, oral sex f!receiving, tongue fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, slightly drunk sex (not really), tummy bulge, posessive/claiming behavior, let me know if i missed anything!
⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: helloooo writing for my fav zayne again <3 would you guys believe this is actually the first lads fic i ever started but i put it on hold because it was way too elaborate and i didn’t want to make a whole like multi chapter fic? i actually cut out a lotttt of it, it probably would’ve been more like 30k words if i kept the same writing style/detail i had originally, and i just could not do that to myself
also the matthew/intern mentioned in the fic is completely made up and fictional, he is not a reference to any characters! i couldn’t bring myself to use greyson for the purposes of the plot bc i think he and zayne are so cute LOL god i love the jealous angsty feelings trope 
pls enjoy hehe i luv u guys <3 also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore :’)
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚
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“will you go to dinner with me?”
you whip your head around to see where the unfamiliar voice came from, coming face to face with one of the surgical interns of the akso hospital. you’d run into him several times before when visiting zayne at work, but never quite got his name.
“me?” 
the intern chuckles at your dumbfoundedness, which he thinks is adorable, “yes, you’re y/n right? my name is matthew. i'm one of the surgical interns here. so, will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow?”
zayne chokes on his rice from the seat beside you, patting his chest a few times to clear his throat. you’d decided to have lunch with zayne after your check-up today; well more like you’d forced him to the cafeteria with you against his will. you’d desperately wanted to try the infamous mint chocolate chip jello the hospital cafeteria served, even though you knew it’d be disgusting. and so you both sat at a table in the cafeteria, you with your jello and zayne with a homemade bento box you’d made for him, along with some of his favorite pastries from the bakery down the street.
at his coughs, the intern’s eyes snapped to zayne’s and it was like he’d just then realized zayne was there, the surprise and anxiety written all over his expression. zayne was always someone who commanded respect and fear from his colleagues and subordinates, so much so that matthew had turned pale as a ghost. 
“oh! dr. zayne, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize–” but zayne cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand. 
“it’s fine. continue your conversation.” you’re a bit taken back by zayne’s nonchalance. sure, you were just childhood friends but it would be nice if zayne had any reaction at all to being asked out right in front of him. you yourself couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards zayne but it was seeming more and more that it was completely one sided.
“i, um…” you’re at a loss for words, not knowing how to let the handsome intern down. matthew was honestly very attractive, and seemed kind enough, but you had hoped to spend your friday night with zayne, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask him yet. he’d been swamped with surgeries and patients the last few days and you hardly got to see him at all. and you missed him thoroughly.
“i actually had plans with zay– i mean dr. zayne,” you glance at zayne, hoping he’ll get the message, but the expression on his face is dark and unreadable. 
“no we don’t. you should go,” zayne’s tone is cold and his eyes refuse to meet yours. despite yourself, your heart clenches in disappointment. you know zayne could be obtuse but he was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. he undoubtedly knew you wanted to spend your night with him. but it was becoming more and more apparent he did not want to spend his with you.
“but i–”
“i have plans anyways.” your eyes can’t help but sting as he avoids looking at you. so you try to steel yourself; you were a big girl and a little bit of unrequited affection would not destroy you. keeping your voice steady and blinking back unshed tears of frustration, you look up at matthew, his eyes lighting up at you expectantly, and you try to give him your best smile.
“i…i would love to go to dinner with you!”
you don’t notice the deep scowl on zayne’s face as a dark icy storm brews in his green eyes. 
you stumbled out of the taxi, your way-too-high heels catching on the foot step almost causing you to trip headfirst into the pavement. you sigh as you catch yourself on the cab door and glance at your hunter watch and see that it’s already 1am. 
“get home safe miss, and no more drinks, you hear me?” your cab driver reprimands you teasingly.
“yes sir,” you mock salute him as you wobble onto your feet, thoroughly drunk, “thank you so much! please drive safe. good night sir!”
“good night miss!” 
you turn towards your apartment building, sighing in exhausted defeat. what an absolute disaster of a night.
the date was unexpectedly wonderful. matthew was handsome, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman. he brought you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant downtown, so you wore one of your most elegant dresses, not that you had many. it was a simple satin black mid-length evening dress, with a slit that exposed just up to your mid thigh and an open back that accentuates your figure. you’d normally never wear something so sensual on a first date, but you couldn’t deny that the way zayne had reacted, or not reacted, stung your heart. so maybe you did go a little extra tonight because you were hurt. so what?
after dinner, matthew and you took a leisurely stroll at linkon park, with enough time to catch the sunset. as you watched the sun melt into the sea of golden yellows and dusky pinks, matthew kissed you. it was passionate, slow, and soft. the perfect kiss.
except when you moaned out zayne’s name. 
and so the night ended as quickly as it began. matthew was as understanding as he possibly could have been, but you could tell it killed anything that could have happened between the two of you. matthew was a surgical intern, so with what little free time he had, he said he couldn’t chance it on a girl who was clearly already in love with someone else, especially if that someone was his boss and mentor. he’d offered to give you a ride back home but you refused, saying you’d grab a cab instead.  
so you found yourself at a bar, downing shots of soju to numb the mortification of your blunder but also the feeling of utter patheticness. hours went by as you wallowed in your emotions. you’d had feelings for zayne for as long as you could even remember. and still, you couldn’t tell him or move on from him. 
but maybe you would have the guts to tell him if it didn’t feel like he literally could not give two cents about you, beyond as a patient and as his annoying childhood friend. it was literally like pulling teeth to get him to spend any time at all with you lately. 
so here you were, stumbling into your apartment building at 1:37 am: drunk, exhausted, and empty. the night breeze raised goosebumps on your exposed thighs as your heels clicked on the pavement in the dark. 
you headed toward your apartment, through the main entrance and up the lobby elevator, the alcohol still making your brain swim. luckily you no longer saw double, and your eyelids no longer felt like a ton of bricks.  
the elevator door dinged open and you trudged toward your unit, your toes screaming in protest in the confine of your heels. you forced your vision to cooperate with you as you tried to punch in your door code. the error buzz sounded out, again and again, and you groaned in frustration.
in the blurry edges of your vision, a large and slightly scarred hand reached over yours. yelping, you whip yourself around and reach to grab the gun you always had strapped to your thigh. but from the icy cold touch against your fingers and the scars littering the pink skin, you realize exactly who it was.
“zayne?” you did your best not to slur, trapped between him and your front door. you don’t miss how he swears under his breath as his eyes trail down your body, lingering at all your exposed skin, before snapping back up to your face. you can’t even imagine how wrecked you must look right now, mentally kicking yourself for not touching up after the bar. your gloss was undoubtedly smeared from the kiss and the copious alcohol, your hair a bird’s nest from the night breeze, and your mascara smeared from the stray tears of your drunken emotions.
you didn’t do a very good job at steeling your voice because zayne saw right through you, his eyes narrowing as they absolutely drank you in, “you’re drunk?” his voice holds a dangerous edge, as if mad that you’d have the audacity to be drunk. he deftly types your access code in, and gently ushers you into your apartment. you stumble in your heels against his body, and zayne wraps his arm around your waist to catch you before you fall. you flush at the way his hands palm the exposed skin of your lower back. 
“m’not drunk,” you protest, swatting his hand away, not wanting your body to give any of your feelings towards him away, but zayne only grips you tighter, fingers flitting between the soft satin material of your dress and the goosebump ridden skin of your back. his arm on your waist feels so right, threatening to make you melt right into his embrace. but you fight the urge, trying to hold onto your annoyance.
you can’t see his eyes but you know they’re rolling in their sockets at your obvious drunkeness. he gently guides you through the threshold of your home and then kneels down before you. the sight of him on the floor in front of your feet makes you reel, hoping the furious blush is masked by the flush of alcohol in your blood.
“w-what are you doing?” you try to step back, but your knees wobble and zayne grips your thigh in place. you shiver at his cold touch on your sensitive skin, a little too high for you to keep any semblance of calm.
“do you want to stay in these deathtraps?” he murmurs as he starts to slip the strappy heels off of your aching feet. his fingers around your ankle tingle as he softly massages the red skin of where the straps dug in.
“zayne? why are you here? did something happen?” your voice wavers still, but zayne’s cold touch is starting to sober you up and clear your vision as your mind tries its best to focus on him. zayne doesn’t respond as he lifts your other foot and slips the other heel off. his fingers linger on your bare legs before he slips your house slippers on your feet, standing back up to tower over you. 
“it’s almost 2 in the morning, and you’re just now coming home,” his voice is hard and stern, it’s clear he has things he wants to say but you’re in no mood for a lecture on sexual safety, stds, and stranger danger. 
“i was busy,” you snap, your emotions running extra high from everything that had happened today, especially zayne’s nonchalance. but he’s incredibly patient with you, as he always is, taking you by the waist nagain and leading you to your living room couch. you’re too tired to resist, and you desperately need to get off your aching feet.
“how was your date?” zayne sits you on your couch and then heads to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. his question reminds you of how royally you screwed up today and your mood sours even more. 
“fine,” you mutter, trying to keep from snapping at him again. zayne sits beside you and brings the glass of water to your lips, tilting it for you with his fingers on your jaw. you take deep gulps, the cold water soothing your entire sore body. sinking further into the couch, your mind wanders back to your disastrous screw up. you’d called matthew zayne. it literally couldn’t get more mortifying than that.
zayne stares at you and you know he doesn’t believe you, so you murmur again, “it was fine.” but as his intense eyes bore holes into you, your voice cracks under all the feelings you’d stuffed deep down today. 
he was here now and it confused you to no end. you’d wanted nothing more than to spend your day with him, but he’d pushed you away. were you really that blind that you’d developed feelings for a man who did not feel even slightly the same way? 
your eyes well up with tears at the thought and you try to subtly brush them away by pretending to scratch your cheek, but as always zayne sees right through you. 
“did he do something to you? did he get you drunk?” zayne’s voice is calm but hard and threatening.enough to scare you if it weren't for the way he softly gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back to his, using his free thumb to catch the tears before they can slip down your cheek
but through it all, you register the implication of his words. “wh-what? no!” you exclaim, “matthew was a complete gentleman.”
his eyes track yours, unwilling to let go of your gaze, “then why are you crying?” 
you blink back your tears before more can fall onto his thumb. your voice wavers as you stare into the hazel green ocean of his eyes, and you answer his question with a question of your own, “why are you here zayne?” 
“i wanted to make sure you got home safe.” your chest constricts with unrelenting emotions, but your drunken haze makes you even more steadfast in your stubborn resolve. 
“well i’m home, safe,” you avert your eyes, knowing if zayne keeps staring at you with that intensity you’ll start to unravel and confess everything.
“why did you take a cab home?”
your eyes snap to his, “how did you know i took a cab?” and this time zayne’s eyes refuse to meet yours, “zayne? how long have you been waiting for me?”
zayne doesn’t respond, instead brushing the tangles out of your hair. you try to get his attention by tugging at his tie, the alcohol making you feel much bolder than you normally ever would. 
you can see his adam's apple bob as he lets himself be drawn in, only slightly, towards you. at your pout, he sighs in defeat, prying your hands away so he can loosen the tightened hold around his neck, “i’ve been waiting for you…forever.” 
before you can respond, he clears his throat and continues, “i got here at 9 and waited in my car when i knocked and you didn't answer.”
at your bewildered expression, he sighs and elaborates, “i just wanted to see you get back home safely. but when i saw you get out of that cab i needed to come check on you.”
your brows furrowed as your sobering self tried to do the math in your head. zayne can practically see the steam coming out of your ears and smiles lopsidedly, chuckling under his breath at how adorable you were being.
“you waited for 7 hours?!” you exclaimed, eyes wide. 
his grin deepens and you can see his eyes sparkling with laughter , “you are drunk. why are you drunk?”
you purse your lips shut, unwilling to speak. with all the overwhelming emotions swarming your mind, you knew if you started talking now you would surely never stop.
at your silence, zayne prods gently, “talk to me, y/n.” his voice is deep and commanding in a way that almost always gets you to listen to him. 
you zip your lips shut and turn away, doing your damn best to not give in. but zayne’s touch, still on your cheeks, forces you back towards his eyes.
“be a good girl,” he demands softly, his eyes searching yours for answers. 
blowing out your cheeks like a child, you’re unwilling to give up the attitude, “i’m drunk because i was drinking.”
“did matthew take advantage of you?” zayne’s jaw is locked and the intensity in his eyes is blinding, damn near dangerous. 
“no! zayne, no. i went to a bar to drink alone, after our date,” you try to hide the embarrassment from seeping into your voice.
“why? did he do something to you?” his voice is still threatening, and you sigh at the unrelenting questions. you knew zayne well enough to know he wasn’t going to let up, so it would just be easier on you if you told him everything that happened.
“matthew was amazing,” you don’t notice the way zayne’s eyes darken at your praises for the intern, “the date was fantastic. and after, we saw the sunset.” his expression is still unreadable and you start to fidget under his intense gaze, not knowing in the slightest what he was thinking. 
“and then he kissed me. we kissed. and that was it. i went to the bar and he went home. end of story.” 
zayne’s fists ball so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he keeps his gaze steady. he doesn’t speak, and you’re scared of the tense silence that falls between you two.
“he couldn’t at least accompany you? make sure you were safe?” you can tell zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically erratically against the floor, “driven you home?”
his questions make it impossible for you to forget about your horrifying mistake today and you just feel so incredibly bad for matthew. the regret and embarrassment gnaw at your mind like parasites. and so against your better, albeit slightly still drunken, judgment, you finally blow.
“he left because i was thinking of you, okay? matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, and charming. and yet i was thinking of you the whole time. and so he left and i went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”
“you were thinking of me?” zayne’s voice is an annoying mix of bewilderment, intrigue, and what sounds like mockery, which just infuriates you.
“i am always thinking of you zayne! i thought about you at dinner, i thought about you when we watched the sunset, and i thought about you when he kissed me,” you burst, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing unsaid. 
zayne’s face is unreadable again, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble in your seat, “you were thinking of me when he kissed you?”
unable to bear his unrelenting repetitive questions anymore, you explode, “yes zayne! and when he kissed me i called out for you!” the confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think twice about it. it takes you a second to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to scream at the top of your lungs. unfortunately it was 2am and you had neighbors that most definitely would not appreciate that. 
you feel his strong hands grab your wrists gently, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, “you called for me?” his tone is as amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the shame weighing heavily on your mind. 
“don’t tease me right now zayne,“ you warn weakly, “i am always thinking about you. but you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, “you don’t seem to think about me.”
zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into your soul. the silence is thick in the air as you refuse to be the one to break it.
finally, he speaks, voice clouded with indiscernible emotions, “is that what you really think? that i don’t think about you?”
“do you really think i waited for 5 hours, in my car, for you to come back because i don’t think about you?” your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice. 
before you can respond, he continues, “i think about you every second of every day. i thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with matthew.”
zayne shifts so that he can cup your face with both his hands, drawing his face closer but not close enough, “i thought about him getting to hear your voice, getting to touch you…to kiss you. it drove me insane.” 
your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. the way zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether. you’re drawn to him all over again, only this time it feels like he might be drawn to you too.
“w-why?”
zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension enveloping the two of you. 
“why did you push me to go with him then?”
his eyes force themselves onto yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, “i made a mistake.” 
his revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. you softly grab a fist full of his tie, pulling him closer. you can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. your lips are so close to each other that you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, “kiss me, zayne.” 
zayne wastes no time at all, threading his fingers from your cheek into your hair, pulling your face the remainder of the distance to his own. 
your first kiss with zayne is nothing like you’d daydreamed it would be. you’d imagined the patient and reserved surgeon to be soft, gentle, taking his time with you. you’d expected it to be passionate but reserved, like the handsome raven haired man himself. 
and while the passion was undeniably there, what you didn’t expect was the bruising claiming heat that came with it. zayne’s soft lips marked you as his own, a lifetime’s worth of emotions evident in the way he molded himself against you. with every twitch of his lips, zayne laid claim to what was his. he kissed you like you might disappear at any moment, as if this was all a dream.
and when his tongue swiped across the parting of your lips, asking for permission to enter, you gladly relented control and authority. after all, you were his. you think you had been for some time.  
you hadn’t expected your first kiss with zayne to be like this, and yet it was everything you wanted and more.
when you shift yourself to climb on top of him and straddle him on your couch, zayne reluctantly pulls away, hands still gripping the back of your head, “y/n, we should stop.” but he can’t stop his hands from leaving your soft hair and resting on your hips, almost like a reflex. his words say one thing but his hands just can't seem to pry themselves off of you.
you’re taken aback by his words, unable to stop the insecurity and hurt that paints your face. zayne notices instantly, one of his hands leaving your hips to stroke your cheek, hooking some of your hair behind your ear. you lean into his hand, the whiplash starting to exhaust you as much as it kept you on your toes. 
“i want to,” he whispers hoarsely as you squirm on top of him, answering your unsaid thoughts, “i can’t even convey how much i’ve fucking wanted to. but you’re drunk. and the first time i finally take you…i want you to feel every second of it.” 
your eyes flutter at his words, stomach clenching in anticipation. having fully sobered up a while ago, before he even kissed you, you can’t help but beg a little, “i’m not drunk anymore. and even if i was… i want you. i’ve wanted you…forever.” 
zayne swears, his eyes going full doctor mode, and you can tell he’s inspecting every inch of you to try and discern if you’re truly sober or not. you fidget nervously under his intense stare, to which his hands grip your waist painfully tight to keep you in place.
“stop,” he grits out forcefully, as if in pain. you do your best to still in his lap, and that’s when you feel the unmistakable bulge of his erection underneath your parted dress that had ridden up to bunch at your hips, right against the pantyhose against your cunt.
“are you sure this is what you want?” he groans as your body presses deeper into his lap, “because once…we start i won’t be able to stop.” 
his words send a shiver down your spine, the heated warning doing nothing but arousing you to your core. through your hooded eyes, you nod eagerly at him, “m’sure zayne. won’t want to stop.” 
he smirks at you, a heart stopping smile that melts your brain and cunt simultaneously into a leaking mess, “you asked for it love.” 
before you can even have the chance to physically combust at the affectionate pet name, zayne whisks you into the air, scooping you under your exposed knees effortlessly. you yelp, clutching onto his neck as he carries you like a bride into your bedroom, navigating your apartment like he owned it. he bent down to capture your lips with his again, like he couldn’t physically wait to get you to your bed before claiming you again. 
you feel the cold press of your sheets against your spine as zayne sets you down gently, and settles in between your thighs on top of you. his eyes absolutely devour you whole, raking up and down your exposed satin clad skin, “you look beautiful. i’ve been wanting to tell you all night.” his praise is throaty with desire and it makes you squeeze your thighs together against his body in anticipation. your face heats at his words, and you run your palms up and down his abdomen, the material of his dress shirt feeling like silk against your burning skin. 
zayne grins and chuckles, mostly to himself, but the sound catches your attention and you find yourself pouting in self-consciousness, “what’s funny?”
zayne’s long fingers trace the outlines of your body under the satin dress, eliciting soft moans from you that please him to his core, “you just look so beautiful.” his fingers reach the bottom of your dress and begin to stroke the fabric of your pantyhose, inching up under your dress, so torturously slowly, “you wore this for him, yet i’m the one that’s going to tear it off you.”
your body trembles at his words, the pool between your legs growing wetter. you can feel yourself growing impatient, only wanting his body to press onto yours, to suffocate your.
“zayne please, don’t make me wait any more,” you murmur as you sit up on your elbows, pressing your forehead against his. you heartbeat is quick and your rapid breaths fan across his face. 
his eyes darken at your pleas, the hazel hues appearing almost a light brown, “fucking hell y/n, you’re going to drive me insane.” he sits up on his knees, loosening his tie before undoing it completely and discarding it on the floor next to your bed. you bite your lip as you watch him undo the top three buttons of his shirt, his toned chest on display under it. 
leaning back down, he presses a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. his hands wander to the thin straps of your dress, gently tugging until they slip off your shoulders, letting him tug your dress down until your breasts are exposed. his tongue against yours is unrelenting, marking every inch of your mouth as his.
detaching himself from you, he buries his face into your neck, his cold lips incredibly soothing against your lust burned skin. you cry out when you feel his teeth softly sink into the skin of your pulsepoint, as he suckles on you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. 
“zayne,” you gasp out, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to have your mind filled with nothing but his mouth on you, “please.”
he trails down your neck and collar, inhaling you into his lungs at every opportunity. you feel his smile against your skin as he reaches your breasts, your nipples pebbled from the lust. he voice is muffled against you, “please what, my love?”
“i…” you’re too mortified to say the things you want him to do, so the silence overtakes you. unhappy with your hesitation, zayne bites into the supple flesh above your pert nipple, eliciting a string of moans and squeals from you. he’s instantly using his tongue to soothe the pain away, quickly replacing it with waves of raw pleasure. 
zayne lifts his head, staring at you expectantly, “i can’t continue if you don’t tell me what you want.”
his unrelenting teasing drives you to the edge of madness, your arousal evident by the way it leaks through your panties and your pantyhose. but you’re stubborn, still refusing to speak. 
“good girls listen to their doctors don’t they?” he places fleeting kisses onto your goosebump riddled areolas, careful to purposefully neglect your increasingly sensitive nipples.
“should doctors really be this intimate with their patients?” you retort like a brat, wanting to dish back all of his incessant teasing.  
he smiles at you, thoroughly amused at your insolence, “i suppose not, but am i really just your doctor?” with that he captures your waiting nipples into his mouth. you cry out at the incredible feeling of his cold lips on your breasts but his warm tongue on your nipple, your lower body thrusting up uncontrollably into his crotch. 
he groans into your chest as you brush against his throbbing erection, restricted by the confines of his pants. against the heat of your womanhood, zayne hardens impossibly further, feeling like he might actually explode against the constraint. the sounds of your pleasure and your cries for him make it difficult for him to concentrate.
switching to your other nipple, zayne uses one hand to undo his belt, letting it fall to the ground with his tie. he undoes the button and zipper his pants, yanking them down with such feral urgency. when his cock was finally free, he broke away from your chest, hissing in relief. you look down and you’re met with the realization of why he was in so much pain. 
zayne was large. in a way that terrified you to your very core. you could imagine that the restraint of his briefs alone would be uncomfortable, painful even, when holding something like that back. 
zayne catches your stare and he grips your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his eyes instead, “it’ll fit baby, don’t worry.”
you fight to keep your lip from quivering, trying not to get lost in his green eyes, “will it?”
“i’ll make it fit, but first let me prepare you love,” he says matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. the certainty in his voice turns you unbelievably on and you find yourself needing to please him. your hand seeks out his erection, grasping it firmly into your fingers.
he groans at the slightest touch, knees buckling into the bed beneath you. you start with languid and deliberate strokes, feeling every vein pulse under your fingers. your thumb finds his large engorged head, already leaking with pre cum, feeling every smooth surface of his cock under your touch. while zayne writhes on top of you, you revel in his glorious manhood, everything about it utterly perfect and terrifying.
as you touch him, zayne leans into the crook of your shoulder, laying claim to your sensitive neck. he marks every inch of bare skin he can find, leaving a trail of red and wet bruises in his wake. 
your entire palm is wet with his leaking arousal, as he moans so closely into your ear. gently, he pries your palm away from him, sitting back up onto his knees, smirking satisfyingly down at the marks he’d left, “god, i’ve waited so long to have you.”
you reach down to shimmy out of your pantyhose and black evening dress, leaving you in your black lace thong, naked, willing, and pliant before him. you see him gulp harshly, his eyes hazy with need, and you sit up to level with him, “so take me zayne.”
a low growl rips from his throat, as he pushes you back onto the bed, setting your head against your wooden headboard. zayne tortures you, kissing down your collar, your chest, your naval, and finally down the soft mound of your pelvis. 
zayne seems almost feral as he looks at your lace covered cunt and back up at you, “did you really wear this for him?”
“n-no,” you whine, “i wouldn't have ever l-let him. he wasn't you.”
zayne seems somewhat placated by your response, hooking his cold fingers into the waistband, his voice a low grumble, “that’s my good girl. no one will ever see you in or out of these, but me. right?”
your brain fogs over as he slips your soaked panties down your legs, his breath hitching seeing the string of clear slick clinging to your cunt. 
“fuck.” he’s lost in his stares, in absolute awe of the meal before him, carving every single perfect centimeter into his memory. you squirm under his intense stare.
“zayne please don’t make me wait anymore,” you wine, crying out as he bends down and his lips graze the apex of your slit. 
his voice is incredibly smug, “you are so beautiful when you beg for me.” you sigh in frustration as his lips and fingers continue to just barely graze your needy body. 
“zayne, please,” your body thrusts into his, but he holds you back down, almost impatiently.
“behave yourself, y/n. you can do that for me, can’t you?” his voice is full of command, making you back down instantly, shivering at the suspense of his words.
“i didn't wait this long to have you just to rush all the things i want to do to you,” he all but purrs, as his lips find your soaking slit.
the room is filled with your lewd cries as zayne’s tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your throbbing hole. as your doctor, zayne knew the ins and outs of your body but you never expected him to know you like this. like his tongue was designed for nothing else but to deliver you the most unimaginable pleasure in this world. 
zayne groans when his tongue enters you for the first time, the quivers resonating straight to your core. his nose brushes against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, the vibrations of his own lust filled grunts bringing you closer to releasing all over his skilled mouth.
your thighs clench against his face, and you almost worry you might suffocate him. you try to pry them away from him, but he only grips them with his strong hands, bringing them closer to his face, wanting nothing more than to be yours, wholly and irrevocably.
“you taste better than i ever imagined,” he moans out, staring into your eyes from between your legs. you blush at the filth of his words and the glistening slick smeared across his lips and chin.
“did you – ahh hah – think about me often?” you tease between the sounds that spill out of your mouth uncontrollably.
he doesn’t answer, instead capturing your entire clit into his lips, sucking in earnest. you feel his smirk as you squeal out, hands digging into the fabric of your sheets and tugging hard. his hands knead your ass as he continues to eat, positively starved.
“z-zayne i-i can’t take much more,” you slur, your toes curling against his sides as he goes back to spearing his tongue in and out of you, using the tip of his nose to massage your clit, inhaling the smell of your arousal into his lungs.
“yeah? is my girl gonna make a mess for me?” he breathes into you, his hands reaching up to toy with your nipples. you cry in response, feeling the coil in your gut tightening beyond belief, the pleasure threatening to make you explode.
“cum into my mouth love, let me taste you,” he whispers breathlessly into your cunt, slipping his middle finger inside of you, the wet sounds of his skin pounding into yours filling the room. you come done instantly, screaming as your back arches off the bed and you release all over zayne’s waiting mouth, hands ripping at his soft hair. 
“that’s it baby, look at you cumming from just one finger,” he muses, working you through your orgasm with just his middle finger. you let out a stream of broken moans, unable to form any words.
“fuck you’re this tight around just one of my fingers?” he murmurs before dipping back down to devour everything you give him. 
he laps up your spend eagerly and diligently, not letting a single drop go to waste. refusing to relent against your twitching clit, zayne devours you until the overstimulation lights your pussy on fire. he’s always had a sweet tooth and it looks like he’s found his absolute favorite dessert, unwilling to give it up any time soon.
“such a messy girl,” he mumbles to himself, the clear strings of arousal sticking from your wet thighs to his chin. 
your thighs tremble at the discomfort of overstimulation, doing your best to back away from him, “mmm zayne, s’too sensitive. no more, please.”
he relents reluctantly, looking utterly displeased with having his treat taken away. as he sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward into you, tapping your lips with his thumb.
“open,” he commands forcefully, bringing his soaked middle finger up to you. you part your lips obediently, welcoming the taste of you on his skin. his eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a deep heated moan at the feel of your tongue on him, tasting everything he got to taste. his cock literally felt like a ton of bricks needing to be pleased. 
releasing his finger, you reach for his length again, “i-i want to make you feel good too.” 
zayne presses his cold lips to yours, simultaneously undoing the buttons of his shirt. he pulls aways to shrug the clothing off his broad shoulders, giving you an eyeful of his glorious physique. he shivers, letting you jerk his erection up and down, but pushing you down when you try to get on your knees before him.
“next time. we have all the time in the world,” he whispers, pushing you against the headboard, holding your cheek in his large hand, “but right now i need to be inside you.”
the smoldering fire in his eyes makes your mouth dry, and you nod meekly. the promise of a ‘next time’ is enough to have you ready for him again. your cunt still quivered, recovering from your previous orgasm, but pooling at the hoarse need in his tone. 
as your head lays on a pillow against the headboard of your bed, zayne lifts you from the small of your back and shoves another pillow behind you, so that you’re elevated towards him, served on a silver platter.
“spread your legs for me,” he growls, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to protest. and so you obey, widening your legs for him, watching as he admires the area between your thighs like it was 
his hand reaches to cup you, clit caught against his palm and fingers toying with your hole, “who does this belong to?” 
but you can’t hear him through the searing pleasure of his touch against your over sensitive body, the blood pounding in your ears like drums. looking at where his hand meets your body, you cry out at his ministrations against you, your thighs trembling in shivers. 
with his free hand zayne grabs your chin, slipping his thumb into your mouth, harshly forcing your eyes to his, “don’t look away. be a good girl and answer me.”
although his words are driven with lust, they remind you of the emotional turmoil you’d been weathering because of your feelings for the man in front of you.
“m’yours zayne, always been yours,” tears well in your eyes and you hope he can understand the weight behind your words, behind all the lust and arousal filled craze. 
zayne stares back at you, and his eyes hold an entire galaxy of emotions that match the colors of his irises: desire, devotion, awe…and love. 
“and i am yours,” his words strike your heart and you lean up to slot your mouth against his. as he kisses you, he lines up his thick length with your cunt, teasing your clit with his engorged tip, his pre cum mixing with your spend that still leaked out from your prior climax. you cried into his open mouth at his teases, your back arching off the pillow and further into his cock. at your movement, his head catches onto your throbbing and waiting hole, eliciting a deep grunt from him. 
he pulls away, groaning, “so impatient, you want it that bad?” you whimper, burying your face into his neck and latching onto his pulse point to save yourself from having to answer. 
“p-please…” you whisper into his ear. he groans, fishing through the pocket of his pants as he pulls them off of his legs. 
“please what, love?” he smirks at you, pulling his wallet out, now just in his briefs pulled down to let his massive erection free. 
you gulp, staring at the way he stands so proudly against his naval, reaching comfortably to his belly button. his girth rivals that of at least three of your fingers.
the rustling of plastic snaps you out of your shameless ogling. zayne places a condom packet between his teeth, tearing it with one hand. you gulp at the sight of him, but you protest, “i–i um,” you clear your throat, trying to work up the courage to vocalize what you want, “you don’t have to use that.”
zayne’s dark eyes catch yours, and the edge in his voice is dangerous, a warning, “don’t tempt me. i need to protect you.”
your face burns as you try again., “w-what i mean is, well as my doctor you know i’m clean.” you do your best to stop your voice from wavering, “and i-i um i’m on the pill.”
zayne’s eyebrows quirk as his irises darken with heat, “how come i didn't know that?
“i’ve been using an online service for a few months,” you say sheepishly, “s-so you don’t have to use that.”
zayne catches on, a satisfied smirk gracing his features, “is that so?” he teases his entire length on your slit, practically fucking you along the lips of your womanhood. using his swollen tip, he taps your clit forcefully, eliciting a throaty yelp from you.
“tell me what you want.” you shiver at the pure feral domineer in his voice.
“p-please zayne, i want it. i need it.”
“what do you need baby?” 
you groan in frustration, but give into his demands, “i-i need you zayne, need you inside. need it so bad.” the way you can see his breath hitch in his throat fills you with confidence, so you lean closer until your bottom lip brushes against his, “need to feel you inside, please zayne.”
his jaw locks as he grits out forcefully, “i will give you everything.”
zayne holds his cock with one hand, lining it up with your entrance. his other hand grips the wooden beams of your bed frame, “can you take it y/n?”
if you’re being completely honest, you’re not sure you can. though you weren’t a virgin, you had never even seen a man so large, let alone attempted. but at zayne’s expectant expression, you nod eagerly, “y-yes i can, i-i can try.”
“good girl,” he mutters, before sinking himself into you. the stretch is so much worse than you imagined it would be, practically splitting you in half. you squealed, clawing at his biceps as he did his best to enter you. feeling so incredibly stuffed, you look down only to see he’s barely just gotten his tip inside.
the vein in zayne’s forehead throbs as his jaw slackens, a string of swears leaving his lips, “jesus you’re like a vice down there. i need you to loosen up love, or else i’ll never be able to get inside.”
you pant against him, not knowing what to do but to watch the way he stares intently at your tummy. the heat and desire in his expression arouses you beyond belief, and you unconsciously squeeze your velvet walls in excitement. 
zayne’s knuckles turn white as he grips the headboard for support, the veins in his forearms bulging as he groans out, “fuck baby please. are you trying to squeeze it off?”
“sorry, m’sorry. s’too big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders for support. the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt, and you don’t know if you can take much more than what’s already inside you. “z-zayne it’s too big i c-can’t,” you pant, doing your best to relax and loosen up your muscles. 
“you can, you’re doing so good for me y/n,” zayne huffs out, pushing deeper into you, the slick from your forming arousal and his pre cum starting to make the stretch easier. the drag of his cock against your gummy walls starts to feel so torturously delicious, like your body was made to take him in. 
finally, he eases into you, eyes unable to look away from where your bodies connected.
“if you could see how – hah – beautiful you look like this, spread out for me,” he grunts, being as gentle as he can manage, when all he wanted was to ram into your warm and tight cunt, squeezing him so tightly. 
“been waiting for the day i could – shit – finally be inside you. drove me fucking insane thinking about you and matthew.”
his words are enough to have you leaking all over your joined bodies, the slick dampening his pelvis and your thighs. as he seats himself in you as deeply as he can, his tip brushing against your womb, he lets out a shaky breath of ecstasy.
“is this what you – hah – thought about? when you were with another man?” his words are claiming, making butterflies explode in your gut and your cunt to flutter around him. you can only moan and drool as his body thuds into yours, over and over. 
“sweetest little princess cunt i’ve ever felt,” he swears, languidly withdrawing from you before pushing back in, knocking the breath out of you. with your head leaning against the back of your bed frame you can see every second of his glistening length burrowing in and out of you, like it absolutely owned you. 
“z-zayne,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, “please.” you don’t know exactly what you’re begging for, but you can’t stop the words from coming. 
“hah, if you want something you have to – fuck – ask for it love,” he pants, doing his best not to get lost in the pure pleasure of finally getting to be inside you.
his words send you reeling, the ecstasy increasing with each deliberate and hard drag. you fight through the fucked out haze, vision blurred from your hooded lids, “hah - harder please.”
at your request zayne stutters for a brief second, your cunt squeezing so tight he could barely move, “anything for you.” 
with his hand clutching the frame, he uses his other hand to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit. his pelvis smacks against your thighs and ass so hard that the bed posts knock into the wall repeatedly, the skin slapping sounds mixing with the sounds of the wood against the plaster. 
at the added stimulation your eyes roll into your brain, your eyelids weighing down heavily. zayne leans in until his chest presses against your breasts, your breaths heaving in tandem. his eyes follow yours, forcing you to hold eye contact with every deep thrust into your soul. against your will, your eyelids flutter as the pleasure starts to overcome your fighting consciousness.
you can vaguely make out zayne’s smirk, as his hand leaves the frame to cup your chin in his palm, “don’t tell me you’re already worn out, love.” his fingers flick against your clit.
you yelp out, nails digging into his back with one hand while the other hand smacks his shoulder gently. you pout, “you’re so mean to me.”
he leans down to kiss your shoulder, his pace never faltering. he chuckles against your skin, “but you can take it, right? you always take me so well.” the double meaning of his words makes you clench in excitement, the praise making your chest tighten.
he groans as you clench down onto him, threatening to make him blow, “hah so fucking tight. you like that huh baby? you like it when i praise you?” he thumbs your clit with more intensity, wanting to see you come absolutely undone for him.
you bite your lip to keep from screaming, nodding eagerly in response to his words. zayne’s thrusts only grow in intensity, as if he’s trying to reach your esophagus from your cunt. you’re a mess of uncontrollable moans and mewls, unable to stop your eyes from rolling back and your tongue from hanging out as he fucked you into oblivion.
“look at you,” he grins arrogantly, voice husky with desire and raw possessiveness, “going on a date with my intern just to end up with my cock stuffed in you.”
you whine at his words, simultaneously not wanting to think about matthew but also being so turned on by the dominating undertone of his words. his fingers abandon your clit, much to your disappointment, to trace the bulge his cock makes in your tummy. his other hand pulls your chin down so you can watch him.
“look how deep i am, love,” he grunts. you watch in awe as the small bump in your stomach  bulges and disappears with the rhythm of zayne’s thrusts. with every withdrawal, zayne’s impressive cock glistens with slick, the throbbing veins bulging enough to make you drool. absolutely entranced, you fit your hand under his to stroke at his cock as it pushed through your tummy.
zayne swears as you caress his cock through the bump in your tummy, throwing his head back to catch his breath. his hand goes back to paw at your clit, trying to stop himself from blowing his load into you right there.  
as the climax builds in your gut, you throb around his impossibly hardened length spearing in and out of you, to which he twitches inside of you. the sounds of your combined whimpers and grunts, the lewd smacks of his damp slick dampened skin against yours, and the bed slamming against the wall overwhelm your brain until you can only think about zayne, his cock inside you, and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
“zayne, i-i’m close,” you cry, hand abandoning your stomach to loop around his neck, digging your nails into his damp skin.
“fuck – i know love, i can feel you trying to squeeze it out of me,” he grunts, body slamming into yours so hard that your body smacks against the headboard.
“i’m gonna – gonna cum,” you cry, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.
“no,” he demands, and you do your best not to gape at him. he gasps through his next strokes, “be a good girl and wait for me. i want to feel you finish all over me when i cum inside you.”
“o-okay,” you say, but you’re honestly unsure if you’ll be able to wait, the waves of pleasure crashing into you so roughly it threatens to overtake you right then and there.
“that’s my girl,” gripping your chin, zayne leans in to kiss you again, his tongue claiming your warm and waiting mouth. your eyes squeeze shut and your body tenses as you try to quell the raging tides of the impending climax, moaning endlessly into zayne’s mouth.
you pull away to breathe, your lungs needing as much oxygen as possible to withstand the ecstasy. zayne’s hand grips the wooden beams above your bed again, his knuckles turning white as he watches the pleasure contort your beautiful face. 
“i-i can’t – ”
“you can, baby. i’m – hah – almost there, just hold on a little longer for me,” he grunts. the pleasure and pain of his edging threatens to knock you unconscious, but you nod and throw your head back as your eyes roll backwards again.
through your fucked out haze you can vaguely see a strange icy sheen forming on the wooden beams of your bed’s headboard. you follow the path of luminous crystals and realize they’re forming from zayne’s hand that grips against the frame so tightly his knuckles are pale and taut, as he comes closer to exploding inside you. 
unable to shake yourself out of the pleasure, you can’t find the words to warn zayne. you continue to watch in awe as the beautiful iridescent flakes frost over the dull old wood. his palm is covered in a layer of snow white frost, the tiny snowflakes dancing around his skin as it grips the furniture so forcefully. you realize he’s losing control of his evol, because of you. and the idea of that threatens to push you head first into your second orgasm of the night.
it happened so fast. as zayne bullies himself in and out of you, thrusting as if his life depended on it, the wooden beams of your headboard cracks in his hand, the wood turning brittle against his icy evol, and shattering under the force of his bruising grip. 
zayne shields your body with his own as frozen wooden splinters fly everywhere, his thrusts stuttering as the sound of cracking wood pierces the air. you can tell he’s scared, constantly worried about losing control of his evol around you like this. his hands clasp together, massaging his wrists and trying to calm the unpredictable storm of his evol. you can feel him about to pull away, to get away from you and keep you safe.
you hug him close to you as he tries to pull away not wanting him to stop, not caring the least bit about the splintering wood falling into your hair. the worry and disgust with himself is evident in his eyes, and it tears at your heart so you do your best to comfort him, “s’okay zayne, it’s not a big deal, i promise.”
but his eyes are far away, thick with emotions that make your chest lurch. you hold his face in  your hands trying to get him to look at you and not the splintered mess of furniture above you. you lock your knees around his waist. “zayne baby,” you soothe gently, “look at me. look at me please.”
his frantic eyes meet yours under the guidance of your palms. you watch as the storm in his eyes calms down ever so slightly when they meet yours. you brush your thumb against his cheek, whispering, “don’t stop, please. m’so close. i need you.” 
but zayne is hesitant, only filled with worry for you, his thrusts halting altogether but still thick and solid in you. his jaw clenches down, “did i hurt you?”
“not at all,” you reassure, hand stroking his anguish laced face, “i don’t care, please make me cum zayne, want to cum for you s’bad.”
zayne continues his thrusts slowly, trying to shake away his anger at himself, “hah – i’m so sorry y/n, i’ll buy you a new one, okay?”
“y-yes whatever you want, but please just fuck me,” you plead, not wanting your climax to slip through your fingers, “please don’t stop.” 
your begging is enough to have zayne going feral again, slowly regaining the vigor in his thrusts. his hand dusts the wooden fragments away from your hair. your head sinks deep into the pillow, and falls back to peer at the gaping hole in your bed frame, slightly in awe of his sheer primal strength. it honestly turned you on unbelievably, edging you closer and closer. 
“zayne i c-can’t wait anymore, m’sorry m’cumming,” you wail, your nails digging through his back as the ecstasy explodes in your body, from the tips of your curled toes to your fucked out brain. your walls flex against zayne’s vigorous thrusts as he continues to chase his own high, briefly forgetting about the furniture he’d ruined in his brief slip of control. 
your eyes pull away from the snowflakes melting on the splintered headboard and fixate on zayne’s eyes as your vision spots with fireworks, his cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly. 
he lifts your thighs up until they press against his chest, your muscles aching in protest. your ankles rest on his shoulders as he drives himself into your guts at this angle. he leans down and your body screams at the stretch in your muscles but he hits you so deeply like this you can’t feel anything but pleasure. he hits your g spot at every thrust, your body barely recovering from the previous orgasm as he steers you straight into another. 
“sh-shit,” he groans, his eyes hooded as they bore into yours, “squeezing me so fucking tight, are you trying to milk me? if you keep clenching down like that i’m gonna – fuck!” he swears at your nails digging into his broad back, dragging deep scratches into him as he fucks you roughly through the pleasure. 
“p-please zayne i want to feel you,” you cry, “cum inside me, please.” as zayne pounds into you with no semblance of mercy, stars blur your vision, your body doing your best to accommodate him and the endless waves of overwhelming ecstasy. your wet release splashes against your skin with every thrust of his hard muscular body. 
“f-fuck i’m gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” he groans with his eyes intently staring into yours, “this pussy is all mine.”
“you’re mine,” his voice is intense, a primal growl of urge and possessiveness, claiming you as his with both words and with his body. he bends back down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss into you, tongue intertwining with yours needily. both his hands threads through your hair, tugging gently as he rocks into you. he groans into your mouth, body shuddering as he finally releases into you.
zayne rips away from your lips to rock onto his knees before you and carry you onto his lap, wanting to be able to hold you as close as possible as he emptied rope after rope inside of you. the angle allowed him to literally fuck his spend up into you. your legs wrap around his waist and your hands around his neck, unable to even squeal at the sudden movement, only able to drool out against the crook of his neck. 
his spend is so deliciously hot inside of you, as your pussy quivers at the warmth, squeezing him even more. he forces his tongue into you again, wanting to be attached to you in every way as he pumps every thick rope into your waiting womb. as he tugs on your bottom lip, body still pressed on top of your legs, cock hitting your sweetest spots, you release all over him again.
your eyes squeeze shut as your cunt pulsates uncontrollably, pulling more and more of his essence into you. zayne’s thick muscles shake under you, the waves of his orgasm rocking his entire body into yours.  
you pant as his bounces slow, his unending stamina finally coming to a halt as his sweaty chest heaves against your trembling breasts. he presses gentle kisses to the deep hickeys he’d marked onto your skin, using his broad hands to caress your bruise splotched throat.
the sound of satisfied pants and soft moans blankets the two of you as you snuggle into him, never wanting this moment of post sex bliss to end. your collective spend begins to leak down onto zayne’s lap, your poor cunt physically unable to hold the copious amount of spend inside of you. 
as his member softens it begins to slip out of you uncomfortably, so you squeeze in an effort to keep him in you as long as physically possible. 
zayne swears, his eyes heated and his gentle grip on your throat tightening just slightly, as he warns you darkly, “behave. unless you want me to take you again.”
and though the idea of him bringing you to orgasm again, and many times after, sounds like heaven on earth, you don’t think your poor cunt can possibly handle any more pleasure for tonight. he chuckles when you ease up, stroking the curvature of your naked spine with his icy fingers.
“i’m sorry about your bed, my love,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, falling softly backwards onto the bed and guiding you down with him until you rested on top of his hard muscular body, his softening erection still nuzzled deep inside you. he’s careful to lay the two of your joined bodies away from the destroyed headboard, holding your head protectively against his chest.  “i will buy you a replacement tomorrow.”
his free hand roams every inch of your body, from twirling the strands of your hair to gripping the supple flesh of your rear. 
“s’okay zayne, it’s not necessary,” you murmur sleepily, tracing the contours of his taut muscles, “i don’t need a new frame.” honestly the idea of zayne breaking your bed in pure primal lust was enough to have the heat collecting back in between your thighs. 
“i would rather you take me on a date,” you smile into his skin, “since you ruined the one i had today.”
zayne chuckles, the sound so warm and beautiful to your ears you think you might melt right into his solid frame, “i suppose i did. will you let me take you out tomorrow?”
you lean up so that your chin rests on his chest and you can peer at him through your lashes, giving him your best begging face, “only if you beg.” 
he looks up at you, the amused lopsided smile on his face just begging to be wiped off, “please? let me take you to dinner.” he lifts your chin off his chest with his index finger, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. he smirks when you shiver at his fleeting touch, watching you bend to his very will.
“and then after…” he trails off, fingers leaving your face to trace against the side of your exposed breasts, and up to your hard nipples. you bite your lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of moaning out. 
as he incessantly fiddles with your skin, you finish his thought with a joke, “after you can come destroy my new bed frame too.”
zayne’s eyes darken with mischief and amusement, “you shouldn't write checks your body can’t cash, my love.”
the filthy promise in his words coupled with his cold fingers pressed deliciously into your pebbled peaks rip the whimper you’d been holding back out of your lips, your cunt clenching in anticipation despite your crippling exhaustion.
but it seems zayne knows your body as well as you do. “but for tonight, just sleep,” he mumbles into the top of your head, pressing his lips into your hair. 
“mmm stay here with me, please,” you murmur into his chest, letting the sleep take root in your pleasure numbed mind. 
“i’ll be here when you wake up,” he reassures, his voice falling deeper and rougher with exhaustion and hands shifting to cover your bodies with your comforter. his hands then wrap around your waist, holding your body against this, as if scared you’d disappear from his arms. “i won’t ever leave you.” 
your heart flutters as the unconsciousness claims you. “g’night zayne,” you mumble, kissing his chest.
“good night my love.”
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
taglist: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun
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odinsblog · 1 month
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“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.
And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.
Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.
Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.
I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.
Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.
He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,
‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.
I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.
Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.
And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.
I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.
Okay, I love you. Bye.’
A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.
His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.
Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.
Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.
On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.
Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.
The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.
And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.
I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.
And then the pattern continues.
Thank you.
Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.
One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.
She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.
On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.
‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.
Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.
But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.
What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’
She was killed later that day.
Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.
And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.
Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.
It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.
Thank you.
The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.
I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.
I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.
It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.
He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.
A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.
The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.
I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.
But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.
A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.
Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”
—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.
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d1ner · 1 month
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fwb: nanami kento (18+)
nanami kento doesn't know how to be just "friend's with benefits".
tags: (fem aligned user) (uses y/n) (jealousy) (not proofread also sorry this is my first real smut ive posted on tumblr) (uses the L word (gasp!))
(art for header found on pinterest)
•—————————————————————————•
fwb!nanami didn't know how to approach you, his friend and colleague, about being friend's with benefits. he wasn' the kind of man to just have sex with someone. he didn't fuck- he made love. it wasn't until gojo dug his nose in, asking you if you'd ever want a fwb within earshot of nanami- you saying you wouldn't be opposed- that made him even think to ask.
fwb!nanami who brought a bouquet of roses to your apartment the first time he came over to "netflix and chill," stumbling over his words and acting like an utter fool in front of you. it was cute, and you eased him into the situation as naturally and slowly as your body would allow. his arm was awkwardly placed on your shoulder as you nuzzled up against him on the couch, and he seemed all too focused on the movie that was playing.
"kento, do you just wanna watch the movie and try again another day?" your soft voice cooed, and it made him fall apart, the sweat on the back of his neck rolling down his back. oh god, you were so pretty. he knew he wasn't doing anything right, and yet you still looked up at him so affectionately. this isn't what friends with benefits act like, was it?
"n-no, i'm just.. i've never done anything like this before." he swallowed whatever moisture had stayed in his dry mouth, forcing himself to meet your eyes, only to meet an understanding gaze that tore down all of his walls.
"it's okay, we can go slow."
fwb!nanami who's so gentle with you during your first time together. even though you wanted your brains fucked out, his gentle touch and praise that spilled from his lips as you sunk onto his length was equally satisfying.
"you're so warm n tight, y/n.. i can't, 's too much. you feel so good," nanami groaned, his hands kneading your hips as your lips kissed along his neck, licking soothing stripes along his sensitive skin to ease him through it.
he wasn't a virgin, but still.. this. this was new. fucking someone just to fuck them. to fuck you, his gorgeous friend who had always behaved so normally towards him. would things stay normal between you two? he was already overthinking. how did friends with benefits just stay friends when all he could think about was how pretty your face twisted in pleasure, how soft your skin felt-
"kento," the sound of your sighed moan snapped him into reality, and he whimpered in his low, gentle voice, his head falling back against the couch as you rolled your hips against him. that's right- all he needed to think about right now was how good you felt milking his cock, not how your friendship was gonna turn out tomorrow.
"oh, fuck, y/n."
fwb!nanami who didn't wanna leave you that night when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest. carefully, he carried you to bed, tucking you in while stroking his fingers through your hair.
"stay," your sleepy, mumbly voice shot an arrow through his chest just as he was trying to quietly leave your bedroom.
yes, of course he'd stay. you'd taken such good care of him, making sure he was comfortable while taking every last drop of cum he had to offer. he didn't realize how pent up he was until he unloaded into you the first time. but once your lips wrapped around him maybe an hour later, he grew more needy, thrusting his dick down your throat as he gently massaged the nape of your neck.
hesitantly he snuggled into bed with you, your sleeping form molding perfectly against his, your face subconsciously nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close. were friends with benefits supposed to be this intmate? should his heart be racing like this?
but as the events of the day weighed heavier on him, he couldn't bear it, trying to find a way to fall asleep. with your steady breaths and warmth as you cuddled him it wasn't hard to get drowsy, but his thoughts consumed him. maybe this was a mistake- him and his bleeding heart.
fwb!nanami who made you breakfast the next morning. and everytime after that. he always brought you an offering like roses or flowers when he'd come over, and treat you like a queen each morning, kissing along your body to wake you up, tasting you before you'd get a taste of his cooking.
it was cathartic for him. no strings attached, just pleasure. it took him a while to understand the point in it, perhaps less stress?
though his heart still raced everytime you sat with him at work or hung out with him- not calling it a date.
"ken, you shouldn't have. we're just grabbing coffee," you whined with your face flushed red. again, this princely man bought your coffee for you and pulled out your chair as you sat at the cafe.
"i wanted to," he would say everytime, shaking his head. and he said the same when he insisted on walking you home from work, fucking you when you got home from work, massaging your muscles from the stress of work, oh lord this man was head over heels-
fwb!nanami who didn't realize he had fallen in love with you until someone at the grocery store asked for your number.
how could someone walk up to you, standing so pretty next to the shopping cart both you and him were putting groceries in, and ask if you were single? as if nanami wasn't standing right there, pushing your shopping cart, guiding you out of the traffic of other shoppers with his hand on the small of your back?
"oh, thank you, but i'm not interested in dating right now." was your response, making nanami's neck tighten. what does that mean? what were you two doing there?
you weren't dating, no. the point is that you were friends with benefits. no strings attached. just fucking, just pleasing each other. this grocery trip was as friends, the breakfasts together were as friends, the sex was as friends-
"ken," again, your voice was like the smooth, untouchable hand pulling him out of a bush full of thorns and pulling him into your softness. "did we get garlic already?"
"mhm," was the only sound to escape his throat. to hell if you were dating or not- he needed you, perhaps even more than you needed him. or at least more than you realized you needed him.
fwb!nanami who pounded you hard into the mattress that night. he was a gentle lover for the most part, always checking in on you, whispering your praises, moaning into your ear as he finished in you.
not tonight. he needed to let out that pent out rage, towards the person who asked you out of course- not you.
"who's this pretty pussy belong to, hmm?" he chuckled as he gripped your hair tighter, pressing your face down into your pillow harder. His free hand was holding your hips with a bruising grip, keeping your ass up as he fucked you into another orgasm.
"k-ken, aagh," you mewled, your hands balling into fists as you held the sheets tighter. "'m yours kento, f-fuck.."
he smiled- it was dizzying, your voice being so broken and yet so his. "that's it beautiful. all mine."
by the time he was satisfied he was dripping sweat, his chest against your back as his breath came out in ragged pants.
of course, ever the gentleman, he slowly slid his cock out from you, watching with possessiveness and satisfaction as his cum dribbled down your folds, and then your bruised thighs. a part of him felt bad for being so rough, but then watching your legs tremble and your pussy pulse around nothing made him feel much less guilty.
"lemme take care of you, pretty," he murmured, helping you stand before carrying you to the bathroom. he was so sweet, sitting down on the bench in the shower, having you on his lap facing him as he washed the sweat and mess off your body with his large yet gentle hands.
you were drowsy from the mix of getting fucked stupid and the heat of the shower, and nanami's soapy hands kneading at your flesh was only making you feel more at ease. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, arms weakly wrapping around him.
"love you, ken," you murmured into his neck, eyes fluttering to try and stay open.
nanami froze, feeling an intense rush of heat rise to his face from ear to ear. he was sure that he would be the one to say it first. with how he worshipped you, he was positive that the words would leave his tongue first.
but alas there you were, softly kissing his collarbone as you fought to stay awake. his heart swelled, more than his cock as it twitched. god, he could fuck you again just for saying that. but more than that he wanted so desperately to kiss you.
"i love you too, y/n," he hummed, tilting your head up to meet your content smile, pressing his lips to yours, lovingly, as if he had never kissed you before.
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hanaonesflower · 12 days
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“let me do this for you.”
“let me get that for you.”
“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.
"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"
"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."
you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.
you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.
"this is getting out of control, kento."
"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."
nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.
so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.
"kento! what happened?!"
"nothing to worry about my l-"
"enough! tell me, now."
your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.
"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."
"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."
"it's not that bad."
you glare.
"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."
"I bet it does."
you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.
there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.
"you haven't been yourself lately."
silence.
"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."
kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.
a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.
"that's really how you feel?"
"have I been absent to you, y/n?"
you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.
"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."
"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.
"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."
"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."
truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"
"is it working?"
he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.
"I think it's very kind of you."
he sighs.
"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."
"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."
“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.
“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.
“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.
“then can i say that i love you, too?”
“that, you can.”
⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧
note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)
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tarotwithavi · 4 months
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How will your future spouse/lover show their love?
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How to choose a pile?
Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.
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Pile 1
Hello! Pile 1 and welcome to your reading!! I see that your future spouse is that type of person who wants to offer things to you and they may not be good at expressing their feelings or emotions through words and because of that they express their love through acts of service and giving gifts. They are the type of person who will offer you food when you're working, peel oranges and pomegranate for you and massage your shoulders after you come from work. I also see that there are times when they may regret not being able to express their emotion through words because I see that you are someone who constantly needs words of affirmation or assurance. They are the type to constantly ask you how they can help you. They move their hands through your hair and massage your scalp randomly. They'll do small things that would mean a lot to you because you do notice all the little things they do. Cleaning your closet, getting you fruits and sweets, helping in your house chores without asking are just some of the things they'll do to show their love. I also see that they would always carry your bags for you and make you a cup of coffee in the morning. For some I also see that they'll be making you breakfast in bed. They are honestly so sweet and there is nothing they cannot do. They will always try to help you in everything they can and do everything they can for you. They may be a professionist so they want to be perfect in loving you too.
Pile 2
What's up pile 2! Alright so I see that your future spouse is rich and if not rich rich then they definitely have the money to travel the world with you because I see that travelling together is going to be one of the main things they will do to show their love. I see that they want to make your every wish come true and I also see that they will be always planning small picnics movie nights to spend time together. They may be a fitness freak so you may exercise together or go to the gym together. I also see that you guys will and roll in some really creative classes like yoga classes or art classes together. They will learn to play different instruments just so they can play your favorite songs. They really care about all the small details that you share about yourself. I also see that they love watching you talk about the things you are interested and passionate about. I am also getting that they will stop doing their work and focus their attention on you and stare in your soul while you talk. I see that they may have to travel a lot for work so they'll be facetiming you everytime they get the chance to. Or send you pictures of everything that reminds them of you. For some of you, you may love to click pictures of the sky and different cloud shapes and they'll be sending you pictures of every interesting cloud shape they see. I also see that they would want to serve in religious groups together.
Pile 3
Hello! Pile 3! How are you? So I see that your future spouse is all about surprises and unexpected gifts. I also see that they are not shy in expressing their feelings. They will be constantly reminding you that they belong to you and you belong to them. I see that they will be whispering “I love you’s” in your ear everytime they get the chance to and everytime they feel you need it. And I also see that they cannot stop talking about you no matter what. They will be talking about you to their friends, family and even colleagues. “I wanna brag about it, I wanna tie the knot, I wanna show you off” is playing in my head and I feel like this song really explains your situation. I see that they'll be sending you long paragraphs of how much they love you and how much you mean to them. I am also getting that they'll hide random notes in your house to surprise you with love messages. They are big on writing and expressing their feelings in written form so you can expect handwritten letters once in a while. For some of you they may even set their alarm with your name or something that reminds them of you 😭😭 that's cute af. I also see that they'll also compliment you and say things like “my pretty wife/husband” , “my love” or put “my” in front of your name. I see that you guys mirror each other so this may be your way of showing love too.
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suguru-getos · 5 months
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soft yandere satoru hcs:
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a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^
warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*
yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.
until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.
he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.
things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.
there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-
to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???
things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"
would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!
"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.
the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!
he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'
his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.
there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.
the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...
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lqvesoph · 6 months
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Is it over now - LN4
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lando norris x fem!reader
summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"
warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)
a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones
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You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.
Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.
You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.
Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.
Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.
His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.
But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.
He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.
But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.
Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".
You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.
"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.
You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.
"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.
"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.
"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.
Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.
Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.
Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.
The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.
"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.
"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"
"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.
You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.
"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.
"Uh-hmm."
"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.
"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.
"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.
"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.
"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.
No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.
How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?
"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.
An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.
Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.
And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.
"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.
"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.
"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.
"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.
He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.
"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.
Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.
"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.
"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.
"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.
Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you
Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.
"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.
You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.
"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.
Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.
"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"
Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.
"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.
Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.
But instead he backed off.
"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.
"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.
You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.
Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.
"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.
Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.
"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.
"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.
"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.
"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.
"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.
"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.
"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.
Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.
Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.
His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.
"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.
"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.
Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.
His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.
Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.
Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.
Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.
"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.
You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.
While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.
"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.
Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.
"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.
"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.
His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.
Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.
His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.
"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.
Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.
"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.
His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.
"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.
He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.
"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.
"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.
"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"
You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.
"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.
He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.
"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"
"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.
"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.
"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.
Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"
"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.
You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.
"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.
"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.
He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.
"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"
His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.
You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.
There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.
The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.
"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"
"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.
"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.
Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.
"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.
The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.
"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.
"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"
"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.
"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.
You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.
"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.
A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.
Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.
Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.
"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.
Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.
"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"
You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.
You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.
As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.
Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.
You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.
Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.
His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.
"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.
He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.
"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.
You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.
You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.
But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.
"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.
You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.
Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.
Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.
"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.
You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.
Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.
He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.
You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.
His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.
When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.
Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.
"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.
"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.
You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.
"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.
Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.
"Was it ever really over?"
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Text
the green dress effect | s.r
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summary: skirts were never to your liking and didn't work for you, until penelope convinces you to try one, and wow, do they work.
warnings: absolutely nothing, enjoy spencer with an IQ of 60. this story is spencer x female reader btw.
words: 1,113.
a/n: I'm finally back with a little au/blurb I wrote during my vacation, I've had more revelations of ideas during them so I hope you like it and wait for them. By the way! Thank you so much for almost 1k likes on the little boyband!spencer blurb, you guys are absolutely crazy, thank you so much! ♡
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You were never a big fan of skirts.
Any kind of skirt.
They caused irritation between your thighs in summer, the material was itchy, when you walked they lifted up and they were always too small. In addition to the sexist comments from men for wearing them, the whistles in the street and the typical comment of "your skirt is too short, you pretend to seduce someone with it" by men who think it is not their fault, but yours for seducing them.
Under that stigma, the skirt was never an option for everyday wear.
Pants, on the other hand, were more comfortable.
They allowed you to walk around easily, they were easy to match, plus they were always on discount at the supermarket.
And they were much more comfortable to wear when you started working at BAU. In fact, they became your best friend.
You could swear on your family that no one had ever seen you in a skirt or dress. You could count on the fingers of your hand the number of times you wore anything other than your collection of different colored pants.
In winter they were long pants, straight cut, flared leg, tight, all kinds. In summer they were shorts or fisherman cut pants, or they could also be ones with a thinner fabric.
Occasion there was, occasion you had a pair of pants for it, as if it were a Taylor Swift song.
That was until Penelope convinced you to accompany her to a little clothing store, with the excuse that she was looking for some accessories for her new outfit for the arrival of spring.
In front of you was a beautiful green dress fitted to your figure, with a nice loose skirt that allowed you to move without feeling trapped.
It fit you like a glove, in the words of Penelope, your new image consultant. It gave a new touch to your aesthetics without taking away the tranquility that usually surrounded your attire.
You had looked in the mirror a thousand times before you could make up your mind - but Penelope's compliments were the fuel for your confidence and you decided to take it home.
After a long week of work, the day finally came when the only thing that needed to be done was the paperwork.
The case? An unsub in Miami who was looking to regain the attention he had as a child, after being involved in a case where his babysitter at the time was murdered. To make himself relevant again, he decided to imitate these deaths so they could talk about him again as they had done before.
Monday had arrived and you could feel the cool breeze on your legs after getting on the elevator. The dress had been the perfect fit for that cool day at Quantico, plus it lent a cheerful tone to the office filled with shades of black and gray.
The persistent murmur reached the ears of your colleagues, who were already immersed in the reports they had to send at the end of the day. Penelope was the first to see what the distraction was about and was surprised by your new look.
"Look at you! No way, you look beautiful. You look just like a little spring fairy, finally someone who can share my love of cheerful colors." Blondie's arm intertwined with yours and they walked together to the cubicles, hearing Luke's whistle.
"Who are you? Please Garcia, introduce me to your friend" joked Luke looking at Penny, who shook her head.
"In your dreams, Alvez. I saw her first." You laughed at both of their comments, separating from Penny to walk over to your cubicle.
"Nice choice of outfit, you really always have an ace up your sleeve." Rossi commented towards your direction, thanking him for the compliment.
"That was a good play, you left a player more than surprised by your hand." Tara turned in the direction of the kitchen, where Spencer stood dumbfounded looking in your direction.
He was carrying two cups of coffee, actually he was carrying his cup of coffee and your cup of tea. But his usual commute was interrupted by your arrival at the office.
He thought he had seen all the wonders of the world, but he was wrong. He hadn't yet seen you in that green dress, which he was sure was perfect to put you at the top of the wonders of the world.
His cheeks were colored a sweet pink, his pupils had dilated and his heart rate had increased, so much so that his carotid was pounding.
"Hey, Spence." You rose from your seat, approaching the man standing in the middle of the aisle until you were facing him. You brought your hands up to his, taking your cup. "Thanks for the tea, it was just what I needed."
A soft nod was his response.
His eyes scanned from head to toe over your body, feeling it wasn't enough for him to take his eyes off you to observe every detail of you and that green dress.
"What do you think of the dress? I know it's not a usual thing to occupy, but I feel it's a good choice for today's weath- Spence, hello?" your hands passed in front of his eyes, catching his attention. "Earth calling Reid, is anyone there?"
Spencer's intrusive thoughts were interrupted by your sweet voice, who was watching him in search of knowing where his precious brain was at the moment.
"Wait... You don't like me? Geez, that's too bad. I think my choice was bad, I'll see what I'll do with him-"
"You look beautiful."
Your nervous glance went to Spence's face, who was watching you breathlessly.
"Really?"
"Don't put him back, please." Your own words startled him. "I-I mean, i-it wasn't a bad choice, i-it looks spectacular on you, well! You always look spectacular, all the time, every day, that's my opinion! B-but your opinion may be different, I mean.."
A giggle came out of your mouth, stopping Spencer's rambling.
"Thanks for the compliment, maybe for next time you can join me in choosing, I've decided I want to give dresses and skirts another try!”
Spencer nodded, following your lead back to your desks to get back to work. But the last thing Spencer did was work, because his eyes were on you and your cute green dress.
"And that's how the effect of a green dress brings an IQ of 187 down to 60!"
Emily elicited laughter from everyone, but Spencer was so deep in thought from seeing that dress of yours on the floor of his apartment.
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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
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signedkoko · 3 months
Note
Hello Koko! I Hope you had a good day/night, and that you are doing well and not overworking yourself:)
I think I saw that you didn’t have requests at the moment but that they were open so here a little request for headcanon/oneshot with Vox, Alastor and Angel dust separately with overlord gn!reader? (If you don’t take 3 at a time maybe only Vox & Alastor?)
They Thinks s/o is sweet, like they’re always smiling and being kind of everyone most of the time, they can’t believe they would even be able to hurt a fly even if they’re an overlord
but then they get told she just unalived her colleague (they were both leaders of the entreprise) because she wanted to be in full possession of their entreprise, maybe they owned a model enterprise or were music producers (like they were the one selling every musics in hell or sum like that?) how do they react?
(Really sorry if it’s unclear or if something is wrong, thanks for reading my request!)
-🐚
Alastor | Vox [Romantic]
In which you are their sweet little overlord who'd never be cruel! ...Or so they thought. Reader is genderneutral.
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Your company was your baby, your castle, your absolute everything
And for the longest time, you'd always shared it with the co-founder
They had a lovely personality but worked behind the scenes for the most part while you acted on the main stage
Hell, you'd even introduced them to your otherworldly partner, Alastor, and had only told him of the good
So it was in fact quite a surprise when you turned up home with bloody hands and the most joyous smile on your face, almost as wide as your wedding day
That in itself wasn't out of the norm; you were an overlord after all! Alastor knew you could handle yourself, as much as you opted to ignore it
" Oh Al, I have great news! "
" Do tell, my dear! "
When you explained that the company was all yours, he was quick to catch on
Now that, that managed to surprise him
" I really thought you loved the gal! "
Even more surprising is how you'd managed to hide your true feelings from him for so long; he was sure he could have sniffed out your malice
But you were just that good at hiding it
He probably makes a joke about how you could be plotting his murder as we speak
" Maybe! "
His smile falters a slight bit
But you don't notice
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By Vox's own request, your enterprise was kept unattached from his own; merely partners
This was because it meant better publicity if two companies got along so well, but also because he didn't want you to be overcome with the demands of his two co-founders
Yeah, Velvette and Valentino pissed him off to double hell and back, but he considered them friends
A few times, the V's and you and your co-founder would host lavish dinner parties, discussing economic growth and working together on projects
You never seemed to shy away from introducing your partner in industry, and as far as Vox could tell, you were as close as friends could be before anything got steamy
You were just the friendliest person he'd ever met; the number of fans you had showed that, but you'd even gotten favour from the other two V's with little effort on your behalf
So, of course, he was stunned when you called him in the middle of work
" You know you're the first to hear all my company news; I am now the sole owner! "
He could hear you smile through the phone, which almost scared him, and soon your phone was fizzling as he travelled through it
The first thing he noticed was that you were both standing in a puddle
A red puddle
Fuck
Ok
" Thats great and all, but lets get you out of here, and maybe—yeah, maybe we can call in a cleanup crew. "
He is your number one PR team; your overtaking of the company is seen as 'heroic' because you ' fought against a corrupt co-founder'
It surprises him, but he's almost proud of you; you are crazy strong and crazy capable
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Author's Note - I do accept up to three characters for headcanons, but as per my FAQ I don't write Angel! Either way, welcome to the blog (again) shell/conch anon! Your idea is very lovely 🖤
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hazbinwhoree · 2 months
Note
Hi!!! Could you do Adam with a spouse/partner that just loves to make food to people? Like they the kind of person to know everyones food prefrences and favorite dishes, just so they can spoil this person(This person being Adam). Like "oh you Has a bad day? I made you'r favorite!"
"you have a meeting? I made just enought brownies to everyone there!"
"princess od hell wants to talk about something? Wait, im gonna made her something to welcome her!"
(Also, science Lute is with Adam for most of her time, she gets spoiled a lot too)
Made With Love
(Name)’s love language was cooking. It had been since she learned how to cook. (Name) would feed everyone and anyone, and knew all of her people’s favorite dishes. (Name) made a lot of food.
Good thing Adam loved to eat.
(Name) adored spoiling Adam. She perfected her BBQ ribs recipe just for him. She mastered it so well, that Adam stopped ordering ribs and would only eat hers. Lute was also spoiled in turn. She liked finer cuts of meat, like filet mignon and ribeye.
(Name) treated Adam and Lute to dinner five days a week, and only didn’t make dinner on the weekend because Adam insisted she needed to chill.
Once, Adam and Lute tried making dinner for (Name) on a weekend. They burnt the food and set off the fire alarm.
(Name) always made sure Adam had food packed for his meetings. The ribs he was eating during his meeting with Charlie were hers.
His colleagues loved (Name) too because whenever she knew Adam had a meeting to attend, she made sure to send him with enough baked goods for everyone.
There was a big meeting today, well, not even a meeting, court, with the princess of Hell. “What do you think she would like?” (Name) fussed, bustling around the kitchen. “Who cares?” Adam said. (Name) rolled her eyes. “I want to make her something.” “Why?” “Why does anyone do anything?”
Adam shut up. “Maybe something spicy,” he finally suggested. “You know, since Hell is hot and all.”
(Name) giggled. “Very smart, babe.”
Adam threw an apple at her. She caught it and threw it back twice as hard, hitting him square in the chest. He let out an “oomph.”
“I’m gonna make her BBQ ribs, since I know damn well you teased her with them being holographic during your first meeting.” “Wh- how’d you know about that?” “I know you.”
“You can’t make her ribs!” Adam whined childishly. “Ribs are my thing!”
“Oh you big baby, I’ll make enough for you too.”
In court, (Name) was one of the last to enter. She approached the princess immediately, who was glaring up at Adam and Lute. “Princess! Welcome to Heaven, I made you and your friend some food.” She proudly presented the tray of ribs. “Best not to have court on an empty stomach.”
The friend looked skeptical, but Charlie was thrilled when she touched the plate and it was a solid, real thing. “Thank you so much!” she exclaimed. “Did you make them yourself?”
“Yeah!” (Name) said. “I love to cook and those are my husband’s favorite.”
“Everyone to their seats,” came Sera’s booming voice.
(Name) waved and flew up to take her spot next to Adam, who kissed her. Charlie’s mouth dropped. A sweetheart like that was married to a man like Adam? Adam noticed the look on her face and stuck his tongue out at her behind (Name)’s back.
When the meeting was over and Charlie and Vaggie had been sent back to Hell, Lute was in a foul mood. So you invited her back with you and Adam for dinner, as you usually did. You made her favorite, ribeye, and made Adam the ribs you promised.
You loved to cook, and Adam and Lute loved you for it.
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