#I feel like this is all Im ever going to be

[ghstzzn]

so needy — enhypen hyung line

pairing(s): enhypen hyung line x fem!reader (separate!)

genre(s): pure smut. with some plot from overexplaining.

tags/warnings: SMUT! MDNI! needy but not quite subby, rough & sloppy unprotexted sex, face fucking, jake munch agenda, masturbating (m. rec), male whimpering yupp, lots and lots of descriptions of boners, seriously they are all hard. no prep for reader, exhibition heh.. (parking lot & bathroom at a party), tried my hardest to go needy im a hard!dom writer im sorry, creampie, one pullout method, cum eating, cum... feeding?, biting, uhh lmk if i missed any srsly. wc: 3.2k. 400-700 for each

💭: WE LIKE OUR MEN IN HEAT GROWLS🦅🦅🦅 @jjunieworld and i. we went insane. i went insane. i seriously tried to make them needy and jakes is probably the closest ill ever get to writing a subby idol. its hard. sorry. ill try harder because i like this i think. <3 i need to get them pregnant asap.

heeseung had been in the recording studio since he had woken up, and yet he still had a long night ahead of him due to editing and touch ups. he was going insane.

you had sent him a selfie of you when you woke up, complaining about him being gone. it was innocent. but heeseung has been rock hard since.

his thoughts were full of you— every lyric had just reminded him of you and fuck he’s never needed you this badly before. the pillow that he’s kept on his lap all day felt like a fucking brick and he’s been subconsciously bucking his hips into it.

heeseung lets out a groan, throwing his head back as he cups his hardened cock through his flimsy sweats. he cannot take it anymore. pulling out his phone, he shoots you a text, complaining that he was hungry and didn’t feel good— a little lie because he knows if he told you he was painfully hard, you’d just tell him to wait. he can’t do that.

you’re so sweet to him, truly, you ask him if he’s okay and tell him you’ll be there in ten.

the door automatically locks when it's shut and you walk up to him, resting your hand on his forehead. he is feeling warm. heeseung leans into your touch and groans softly before grabbing your wrist, throwing the pillow and sitting you on his lap.

not even three minutes later, he’s thrusting up into you relentlessly. you’re desperately trying to grip onto anything, his shoulders, the chair and even the equipment table behind you. heeseungs grip on your hips is tight, bruising even. 

you’re both already cumming, the pace he set was too much for you and he’s simply been hard way too long to last more than seven minutes. though, as soon as he emptied himself inside you, he’s lifting you out of his lap, shoving aside an expensive keyboard and shoving your face down onto the table.

“fuck- fucking take it,” he spits as he continues pounding you from behind. “b-been so fucking hard all day, all because of you.”

his cock is hitting the most sensitive spots with his brutal speed, you almost feel as if you really did something wrong. you reach up to grip onto something, knocking into a few buttons in the process, turning on some music— which honestly helped cover the sounds of your moans but probably not necessary due to the soundproof room.

“hah- heeseung it’s t-too much!” you manage to squeak out, hiccuping and whimpering.

you’re spasming around his cock once more, he sloppily thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and emptying himself on your lower back. you weakly lift yourself to peek behind you, glancing back and forth between his still hard cock and his eyes that were full of nothing but lust. 

heeseung will be here all night— and so will you.

─────────────────

jay thought it’d be a good idea, a great one! he brought you with him to tour some fancy guitar museum he was invited to. you both were so excited to attend, throwing on your best outfits— which included that one dress that jay absolutely went feral for.

he could barely focus on the guitar he was testing out when you were sitting so pretty and patient in front of him, smiling and cheering him on. he didn’t even realize he was fucking up the chords, face red when he realized it wasn’t just you and him in the room.

you sat in the acoustics room with him, dress riding up your legs, leather jacket hanging off your shoulder as you watched him pick at each string with so much adoration in your eyes.

jay was going to go fucking insane. he can feel himself hardening at the mere sight of you— truly he’s usually better at keeping himself kept in public.

when you asked so sweetly to try out at guitar yourself, he thought he would combust right there.

he helps you choose a guitar, slipping the strap around your neck and even setting up the amp for you. jay sits back and watches as you play around with different chords you’ve picked up from him, but his eyes refuse to leave your fingers.

the way they delicately pluck each string or how they grip the guitar pick, how your other hand grips the neck of the guitar to hold down strings. he almost groans when he watches you almost struggle to fit them around it.

if only that were his cock. 

jay has to keep yanking and pulling at his jeans. he almost grabs the guitar from you just to cover his inevitable boner. his jaw is clenched, he wants to leave so fucking bad. he’s seconds away from pulling you into the closest room and tarnishing his image just to fuck you.

finally, your time at the guitar center was over. jay’s practically dragging you to the car and you aren’t even sure why. maybe you did something to upset him?

as soon as you reach the car, he’s sandwiching you between him and the cold surface. your boyfriend doesnt waste a second before grabbing your hand and forcing you to grab his throbbing cock through his jeans.

“for the past four fucking hours,” he grits out, nuzzling his face against your cheek, “four fucking hours that i’ve been so fucking hard. because of you.”

your face is red and you’re whipping your head around the parking lots, it’s almost empty thankfully— and dark outside. “i-i did this?”

he groans in the crook of your neck, “please, baby, fucking need you now.”

those are the only words you need to get you to drop to your knees. your hands shake slightly as they fumble with his belt, pulling it apart and yanking his jeans down just enough to free his cock. 

it’s practically red and leaking, you almost pout when you think about your poor boyfriend being that hard for so long because of you.

jay seems to not like how long you're taking because he’s immediately taking your hair into his fist and smacking his tip against your lips. you eagerly invite his length into your mouth, using your hands to work whatever you can’t fit. 

he has to hold back from cumming right there. the way your lips wrap around him so well, your throat struggling to take him. this is exactly what got him hard in the first place. jay rocks his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further and further into your mouth.

“yeah- fuck. taking me so well, huh?” jay mutters, biting his lip to contain his grunts. “thought about this exact fucking thing in there. so pretty around my cock.”

his words make you hum in arousal, sending vibrations down his length. jay groans and throws his head back, pushing you further down his cock. the gag that rips from your throat is almost enough to make him empty himself all over your face.

jay continues to practically fuck your mouth. your hands drop to grip his thighs as you let him use your mouth however he pleases. both of his big hands in your hair, forming a messy ponytail tail as he continues to thrust into you roughly.

“fuckfuckfuck! almost there, baby.” he’s almost whimpering, it’s so good. after a few more thrusts, he’s pulling out and cumming, emptying himself onto your cheeks and lips. 

there’s so much cum you have to take him back into your mouth to save yourself from a messy shirt.

jay pants as you ride him through his intense orgasm. needless to say, he’s fucking you again in the car this time.

──────────────────

jake was restless. he was quite literally rolling around on your bed as you ignored him for some stupid fucking book.

“jake, i seriously need to cram this by tonight. then we can hang out!” you promised him.

six fucking hours ago. he groans loudly, loud enough to make you scoff and shake your head.

“why don’t you go play on my pc?” you suggest sweetly, “you love the games i have on there!”

“i dont want to do that.” 

you sigh and shrug your shoulders in response, you already told him countless times that you were busy and he’s the one who chose to stay.

“baby, please just take a break.” he pleads. “there’s no way you’re finishing this by tonight.”

he rolls over on his stomach and grips onto your leg, sporting a dramatic expression. jake was right, there was no way you were finishing any of your work tonight, but that almost gives you more reasons to not take a break. 

“the sooner i finish, the sooner i'll be all yours baby.” you tell him, patting his fluffed up hair down, messy from rolling around.

he groans again, “noo, baby i want you- no i need you now!”

“why are you so antsy right now, jake?” 

jake drops his head into your lap, muffling his voice. “ ‘m so horny.”

“hm?” you hum, not quite hearing him. he only responds by softly kissing your inner thighs, unable to hold back any longer.

he pushes his jean clad cock against your soft mattress as he travels down your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses behind. 

“jake.”

“i said im horny. im so fucking horny and you smell so good.” he repeats, lifting his head to look you in your eyes.

your brain freezes at his words. “i… i’ll be done soon, i promise- just-“

he cuts off your words by pressing a desperate kiss over your clothes cunt, sending shivers down your spine. you can feel yourself getting wet by his needy and desperate actions.

“jake!” you whimper out when he licks a stripe over your pajama shorts. he doesn’t even care that you’re still fully clothed, a piece of flimsy fabric won't stop him.

your boyfriend continues to make out with your cunt through your shorts, shifting to bite and suck at your thighs. “pleaasee.” he lets out a muffled whine.

you’ve already dropped your books and papers beside you, soft whimpers leaving your mouth as your hands find their spot in his long hair. “fuck— jake slow down!”

jake shakes his head, his own hands moving to yank down your sleep shorts. he knew you weren’t wearing panties, and he’s pretty sure that’s what got him so horny in the first place. the amount of times he looked down at your thighs to catch small glimpses of your ass and cute cunt because they were barely covered.

it took so much restraint to not shove his aching cock between your thighs— make you forget all about your boring paperwork.

jake attaches his lips to your clit, sucking and practically making out with it. every now and then he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside your oozing hole, gathering all your juices on his tongue and slurping.

you can’t tell who's moaning louder, you or him. he’s attacking your cunt with everything he has all while rutting his hips into your mattress, attempting to pleasure himself but he could honestly cum untouched as long as he had your sweet pussy in his mouth.

he’s groaning against your cunt and letting out incoherent curses, “f-fuck.. hmph so- so good.”

your eyes roll to the back of your neck and you can feel the heat pool in your lower stomach.

“jake- gonna cum, please dont fucking stop!” 

jake listens well, continues to suck and lap at your wetness as if its his last fucking meal. you don't even notice his hand leaving your thigh to jerk himself off but when you do— it pushes you immediately over the edge. 

you tremble as you cum all over his mouth, and he only eagerly slurps it up. he doesn’t pull away and until you yank him up by his hair, you stare at his soaked lips, your arousal dripping down his face. 

he lifts himself up to kiss you, feeding you your own cum, his hand comes up to grip your neck as you engage in a desperate kiss.

when he lets go of you to rid himself of his pants, your hand comes up to touch the wetness left on your cheek— it hits you that jake came all over his own hand while eating you out.

there was no way you were letting him out of your sight tonight.

───────────────────

sunghoon was giddy when he found out he could bring a plus one to the prada after party. he literally couldn’t wipe the grin off his face when he told you that you could accompany him.

but now he almost regrets it. 

since you were his plus one, you had gotten a free outfit from the brand. and god was it the best thing he’s ever seen you wear. but also the worst.

this wasn’t his only issue. you were his plus one. so why the fuck were you pretty much attached to jungwon at the hip? why were you ignoring him when he’s the reason you were there?

it’s not like he was angry either, instead he just really really wanted you right there next to him. he was so fucking horny. 

even before you both left the house to head over. he had no idea what the outfit looked like until you put it on and his eyes almost popped out of his head.

sunghoons also not really the type to voice his every thought to you, otherwise you both would’ve skipped the party entirely just to fuck.

well, he wasn't angry. but he can’t help it when the horniness eventually turns into pure sexual frustration. he leans further into the couch as he watches you bounce back and forth from jungwon and heeseung. 

your lonely boyfriend couldn’t even tell if he was jealous, angry or hurt. above all, he just wanted you to sit on his cock for the rest of the night. he understood that you were having fun, some of your other friends in the industry were also invited to this party but he couldn’t help but to feel so left out.

he almost groans as he watches you make your way to yet another one of his members. what about him? he’s here too! his cock twitches beneath his dress pants and he sets his hand with his drink on top of it, hoping it’s not obvious that he’s suffering at this very moment.

“you okay, man?” a voice calls from behind the couch, sunghoon looks up to see jake hovering. “you haven’t moved from that spot in about 40 minutes.”

sunghoon nods and shrugs, “can you tell my girlfriend to meet me over here? i haven’t seen her all night.” he lies through his teeth, he’s literally been watching you all night.

jake tilts his head in confusion, “uh, yeah. i’ll go get her, be right back.”

he taps his finger on his cup as he watches jake whisper in your ear, pointing behind him in his direction. you glance behind jake and sunghoon quickly averts his gaze.

you nod and respond to jake before making your way over to your boyfriend. 

sunghoon quickly downs his drink as he sees you walk towards him, a soft smile on your lips. so now you’re finally paying attention to him?

“what’s wrong, hoonie? jake said you needed me.” 

he nods, setting his drink down and grabbing your wrist instead, “yeah. i do need you, right fucking now.”

you don’t get a chance to question his words before he’s yanking you towards the furthest bathroom in the building. you’re heels almost make it too hard to keep up with him and you’re calling out his name but he’s too occupied on finding any empty bathroom to fuck you in.

sunghoon finally finds one, tugging you into it and slamming the door behind you and clicking the lock.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you ask him again.

“why are you talking to every single one of my members but not me?” 

you blink at him, surely you’ve interacted with him throughout the night. a smile grows on your face when it clicks. “awwe, hoonie! are you jealous?”

sunghoon grips your chin with his hand, “i’m not jealous. you ignored me, there’s a difference.”

“i wasn’t! and i’m here now, right?” 

he rolls his eyes, smushing his body against yours and the door. “baby seriously. need you so bad right now, i had to watch you talk to everyone while i was sitting there so fucking hard.”

your eyes widen slightly, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“god this fucking dress— i’m going insane.” he ignores your question completely, pulling the bottom of your dress up your thighs.

“sunghoon! we can’t- not here!” 

“mm, i don’t care.” sunghoon mutters as he pulls your dress above your hips. “told you i needed you, huh?”

he grips your hips and moves you against the fancy bathroom vanity, turning you around and laying you flat against the counter.

sunghoon ruts his clothed hardon over your own panty clad cunt. “feel it? feel how hard you make me all because a stupid dress?”

“y-yeah, hoonie.”

he sucks in a breath of air and yanks down your flimsy thong before practically ripping the button off his overpriced pants to free his angry cock.

you glance at him in the mirror when he aligns his leaking tip with your wet entrance. no amount of slick and arousal could make taking his size any easier.

“wait- baby i can’t take you like that..!” you pleaded with him.

sunghoon doesn't listen, stuffing you with his length, ripping a gasp from you, forcing you to throw a hand over your mouth to contain any more noises from you.

he wastes no time before beginning to pound into you, your hips slamming against the edge of the vanity with each thrust. you feel every vein against your walls and soon the initial pain turns into pleasure.

your boyfriend’s sloppy and brutal pace tells you just how fucking needy he’s been for the past few hours. sunghoons letting out a string of curses as he continues to abuse your cunt to chase the orgasm he’s been craving for so long.

“god. fuck- so fucking tight.” he groans out. “n-need it so bad.”

you’re biting your own hand to contain the noises that are desperately escaping your mouth, his pace making it impossible for you to stay silent. sunghoons bending over as he continues to fuck into you, gripping your throat as he leaves harsh bites on your shoulder— marks that’d be impossible to cover due to the thin and flimsy straps on your dress.

“shit—“ his movements stutter before hitting his peak, his warm cum filling up your insides but he doesn’t dare stop.

he continues to desperately thrust into you, overstimulating himself because he’s still so stupidly hard. grunts and whimpers are leaving his mouth, muffled by your neck and hair— but his noises only bring you closer to your own peak.

“hoon..! c-cumming, please.” 

even after you cream around his cock, his movements don’t stop. his thrusts are sloppy and his cock is knocking against your cervix, fucking you hard and deep all because he needs to cum again.

sunghoon lets out a loud groan as he finds himself emptying himself once more inside of you. rocking his hips slowly to ride himself through his second intense orgasm, it was almost painful.

he slips out of you with a grunt, his cock still half hard but he decided right there that the both of you would be leaving the party early.

[vitalverstappen]

Homecoming SMAU - C. Leclerc

summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival? (smau edition)

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver!reader

fc: various, just pretend they're all the same person

a/n: i kinda love this fic wayyy too much to let it go so soon, so I decided to make a smau version for your enjoyment!

written

masterlist

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 737,602 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: Didn't go how we planned, but grateful to snatch a point. Congrats to Charles for the home race win!

view all comments

charles_leclerc: thank you!! can't wait to celebrate later!

yourusername: lmk when and where and i'll be there!!

user1: wdym my two fav drivers are definitely about to get plastered together??

user2: they've been friends since she broke into f1, only makes sense they would user3: yeah "friends" he's been in love with her since he saw her for the first time

user2: no.

maxverstappen1: over/under on how long it takes for her to get ready? line is at 2.5 hours

logansargeant: over

landonorris: over

oscarpiastri: over

redbullracing: over

user4: there's no way she really takes THAT long

logansargeant: you'd be surprised

twitter & max's texts

liked by user1, user2, and 36,583 others

f1gossip: some of the drivers out and about in Monaco celebrating Charles' home win!

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user5: whoever let lando dj needs a RAISE

user6: i heard logan and oscar were also there!

user7: is it just me or do charles and y/n look weirdly close together??

user3: im telling you guys there's got to be SOMETHING going on between them

user2: again, guys and girls can be just friends.

user6: it's also a club. they're gonna be packed together

user8: i don't even want to know how much money they spent

monza media day

liked by: logansargeant, francolapinto and 673,842 others

tagged: logansargeant, francolapinto

yourusername: wdym i'm now the only one here repping the red, white n blue?? but in all reality, it's been an honor getting to know you Logan, you'll always be my best friend & I can't wait to see what you do in the future!!

but welcome to the grid Franco! you've got some tough shoes to fill

view all comments

logansargeant: thank you y/n. gonna miss you <3

yourusername: at least now you wont have to spend the 4th in the UK... again...

francolapinto: gracias y/n! No puedo esperar a ver qué trae el resto de la temporada!

yourusername: i have no idea what you just said but yes!!

user9: oh she's just like us

user10: girl is down bad

user2: @/user3 no like from Charles... how are you feeling after this?

user3: by the end of this season i'll be yelling i told you so from the rooftops

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 987,325 others

tagged: yourusername

redbullracing: The queen of COTA has arrived! 🇺🇸

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user11: ugh she's glowing

user12: her austin looks always slay

user3: CHARLES IS BACK IN THE LIKES! I REPEAT CHARLES IS BACK!!

user2: you weren't kidding when you said you didn't give up hope

maxverstappen1: you guys better not be plotting to get me in a cowboy hat

yourusername: pffffft why would we do that??

redbullracing: fine, we'll go put it away...again...

charles_leclerc: if you need someone to dress up, i know a guy

user13: omg stand up king, this isn't even y/n's insta

yourusername: @/charles_leclerc wdym "you know a guy" you couldn't even wear your hat properly

liked by charles_leclerc, kimi.antonelli and 985,432 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, kimi.antonelli, jackdoohan, texasfootball

yourusername: hook 'em 🤘

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texaslonghorns: it was a pleasure to have you! same time next year?

yourusername: you know it! 🫡

texasfootball: thanks for the support! we'll have to get you suited up next year

yourusername: as long as i don't get tackled im yours

user14: awh y/n and charles are already starting to adopt the 2025 rookies

oscarpiastri: i do not need any more siblings

charles_leclerc: thx for showing me the joys of college football 🧡

yourusername: anytime charlie!!!

user15: CHARLIE?? girl WHAT?

user3: GUYS ITS HAPPENING!!

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 985,920 others

yourusername: P1 baby!! It's always special to race at home and being able to win it means even more! A weekend I'll forever remember ❤️🤍💙

view all comments

redbullracing: congrats y/n!! a win well deserved!

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1: honor to be on that podium with you! let's run it back in vegas

yourusername: only in vegas??

maxverstappen: your ego is gonna get too big if you win everything else

user16: RAH RAHHHH AMERICA 🦅💥🦅💥🇺🇸

user17: U! S! A! 🇺🇸 U! S! A! 🇺🇸

charles_leclerc: congrats on the win!! now, drinks on me tonight?

user18: oh charles grew a pair

yourusername: @/charles_leclerc actually, i think i still owe you for monaco 😊

user3: 👀👀👀

liked by user3, user2, and 45,832 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

f1gossip: newest wag(s)?? charles and y/n were caught making out in a club in Austin. The two, along with the rest of the grid were there celebrating y/n's homecoming win. Cheers were heard from the other drivers as the two shared their moment.

view all comments

user19: oh. my. god.

user20: what in the romeo and juliet with a happy ending??

user2: @/user3 go ahead. say it.

user3: @/user2 I TOLD YOU SO. I TOLD YOU ALLLLL SO

user3: I DON'T LOOK CRAZY NOW. I KNEW IT

user21: what does @/redbullracing have to say about this

redbullracing: i'm just glad it isn't one of the mclaren boys mclaren: we wouldn't date you either its fine

want more? @coco-loco-nut wrote a sister story. Check it out!

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

im sorry but more about beard burn on ur thighs from rafey https://www.tumblr.com/xxbimbobunnyxx/766077333452013568

But ofc!! Like immediately yes. Pussy eating, daddy kink, overstimulation, squirting 18+MDNI

Rafe has been at it for almost an hour now. He has your legs slung over his shoulders with his head between them as he messily eats your sopping cunt. The entire bottom half of his face is covered in your juices, your wetness drips from your hole and down his lips and onto his chin, coating the scruff there. You love it when he grows his facial hair out. Not only does it look fucking sexy but also because when he goes down on you like this the added burn of those coarse hairs on your thighs makes the pleasure all the more delicious.

You're nearly delirious at this point from the amount of times he's made you come in his tongue and fingers. You're a babbling mess, begging for him to fuck you while your entire body shakes, your back arches off the bed and your legs clamp around his head like earmuffs.

"S'too good daddy, don't think I can come again." You whine as you writhe beneath him and it only makes him growl into your dripping pussy, the vibrations sending shock waves through your body.

"Quit fuckin' squirming, you're done when I say you're done. Gimme another one." Rafe leans back and spits on your already sopping clit before landing a harsh smack on it that has your eyes rolling back. One of his large hands grips your hip and pins you to the mattress, keeping you in place. His lips wrap around your clit and he nips it with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. You feel two of his large fingers swipe through your folds before they're being inserted knuckle deep inside of you. He shakes his head back and forth as he sucks hard on your overstimulated bud, those scruffy hairs gliding easily across your skin as your juices continue to coat his face and your inner thighs. He curls his fingers upwards while pumping them in and out of you vigorously and you can feel yourself about to tumble over the edge again.

"Oh fuck! I'm gonna fucking come daddy, I'm gonna come!!" Your body tries to subconsciously raise of the bed but Rafe keeps you pinned down as he devours you like you're the last thing he will ever taste. Your creamy wetness coats a ring around his thick digits and he can tell by the way your walls are contracting that you're about to gush for him.

"Yeah, that's right baby, squirt for daddy." He mumbles against your clit before circling his tongue around it and sucking it harder than ever, his fingers curve just right and it has you seeing white. Your orgasm floods your senses as you become pliant beneath him and your pussy gushes around his thick digits and all over his mouth, chin, and beard hairs.

Rafe fucks you through it before pulling back and looking up at you with a smug grin. Your body is like jello as you look down at him through hazy eyes. He's so fucking hot. His hair is growing out into that messy mullet you love and he's quite literally dripping with you. Those scruffy beard hairs shine in the low light from the lamp on the bedside table and those blue eyes are filled with fire as he admires you all fucked out before him.

"I'm going to fuck your little pussy till you cry now." He leans up and locks your lips with his in a filthy kiss that has you tasting yourself on his tongue before slamming his cock into your dripping walls and making good on that promise until you can hardly stay awake and you’re a sobbing mess beneath him.

Pic of Drew credit to @rafeyscurtainbangs

Divider by @anitalenia

[aroacedragongirl]

Im just going to answer all of these because why not

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

its complicated

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

my father

03: Do you regret anything?

so many things :)

04: Are you insecure?

definitely

05: What is your relationship status?

single, hoping to stay that way

06: How do you want to die?

preferably painlessly

07: What did you last eat?

Honey bunches of oats with almonds

08: Played any sports?

i did karate for like eight years and hated it for at least like half of that

09: Do you bite your nails?

not really

10: When was your last physical fight?

see #8

11: Do you like someone?

this is a really ambiguous question. not romantically or sexually, thats for sure

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

no

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

yes

14: Do you miss someone?

I miss my friends who have all gone off to college around the country

15: Have any pets?

two dogs and a chinchilla

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

tired and annoyed by my mother

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

nope, never anywhere, for that matter

18: Are you scared of spiders?

no, i think they are cute

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

probably not, because it is impossible to predict the far reaching effects of what you do, and you could irreversibly change your life forever

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

what the fuck does that even mean? actually I dont think i want to know

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

i have no idea right now

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

nope

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

nope

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

calculus, physics, and computer science, probably

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

that is literally the same question as question 14

26: What are you craving right now?

sleep

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

probably by accident at least once without realizing it

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

never been in a relationship

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

never been in a relationship

30: What’s irritating you right now?

upon reading this my entire body spontaneously became itchy, fuck you

31: Does somebody love you?

I think my parents do?

32: What is your favourite color?

purple

33: Do you have trust issues?

definitely

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

I crashed the car that i am borrowing

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

one of my parents, i dont recall which

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

probably

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

i am guilty of both

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

no

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

never have; hoping to continue that

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

no

51: Favourite food?

i wrote an entire essay on this one in response to an ask if you want to know go read that

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

if the consequences of our actions and random chance count then yes, otherwise no

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

game with friends

54: Is cheating ever okay?

I dont think i am qualified to answer this (aroace)

55: Are you mean?

sometimes unintentionally

56: How many people have you fist fought?

complicated answer, see question #08

57: Do you believe in true love?

no

58: Favourite weather?

just cool enough to wear a hoodie, not too cold

59: Do you like the snow?

yes

60: Do you wanna get married?

no

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

definitely not

62: What makes you happy?

Making things, success, sometimes hanging out with my friends

63: Would you change your name?

probably, idk to what though

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

jokes on you ive never kissed anyone

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

apologize for being unable to adequately reciprocate also why exclusively opposite sex?

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

idk

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

my mom

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

also my mom

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

no

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

probably not

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[eddiemunchem]

━━━━━━━━ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

✏️ *excited drumroll* aaaaaand arie’s first ever req! god i had so, so much fun writing this 😩 this idea was pure perfection, i hope i was able to do it justice for you bby! thank you so much for giving me this wonderful opportunity <333

⚠️ 1.7k words (oops), fem!reader, jason’s!sister!reader, cunnilingus/pussy eating, hints of dom!eddie (im sorry he’s a dom to me okay), unprotected p in v, creampies, subtle breeding kink (like if you squint), big dick!eddie, language, dirty talk, outdoor sex, fucking on the drug dealer’s picnic table 🤭, smitten!eddie, strangers to lovers (fuckers), i think i got everything lmk if you catch something tho!

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you were certain you’d never let out such lewd noises in your entire life.

they fell from your lips unbidden, practically ripped from your throat by the hot mouth devouring your pussy.

he suckled and licked your clit like he’d done it his whole life, tongue firm and insistent on your pleasure alone; it felt absolutely magical, unlike any head you’d ever received in your life.

fuck, who knew eddie munson was such a fucking munch?

“fuck, keep going,” you whined, fingers tangling in the curly locks atop his head. that familiar heat was already forming in your gut, muscles like wires being pulled tight. “‘m getting close.”

eddie groaned against your slit and dipped his tongue between your folds, neglecting your clit momentarily to shove the wet muscle into your channel — it felt strange, but somehow good, and when he started thrusting it in and out, you lost it.

curses fell from your lips as you bucked your hips into eddie’s face, sliding your clit against his nose to get some much needed friction against the swollen nub. you were dripping wet, acutely aware that you were making a mess of his face and the table below you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

and from the way eddie’s hands gripped your hips to help guide you, you had a great suspicion he didn’t care either.

“fuck, so good— ‘m gonna cum!” you praised, chest heaving and stomach twitching; you were right there, wires stretched thin and so close to snapping, about to cum from head for the first time ever—

all too suddenly, eddie freed himself from your grasp and that wet heat left your pussy. a whimper fell from your lips, your eyes snapped open (when had you even closed them?) and glared up at eddie, who now towered over you.

he slotted himself between your open legs and grinned down at you devilishly. god, he was too goddamn handsome. your heart skipped a beat at the clinking of a belt buckle, fiery heat ramping up about ten thousand degrees in your gut.

“sorry, dove. i’ll let you bust in my mouth some other time — but i wanna feel you mess up my cock first.” eddie murmured, voice rough honeyed gravel, words so filthy and promising that they pulled a whine from your throat.

he wasted no time pressing his thick cockhead against your slit, sliding it up to gather the slick there. eddie hissed through his teeth.

“fuck, you’re so wet— can’t believe i’ve made you this wet.” he sounded almost reverent, as if he’d earned some massive, sacred achievement. maybe he had, considering who your brother was.

“just fuck me, eddie.” you begged, cunt twitching around nothing, aching for eddie to stretch it out with his thick cock. he’d been teasing you for nearly half an hour, you needed it.

“god, hearin’ you say that is enough to make me fuckin’ cum now.” eddie growled, eyes black pools as they swallowed yours. “maybe i should make you beg a lil’ more.”

eddie licked his teeth and teased you by pulling his cock out until only the tip stayed nestled within your walls.

your fingers wrapped around his arms and squeezed, nails digging into the skin as you hissed, “don’t you fucking dare, munson. i swear, if you don’t fuck me right now, i’m walking aw— oh my god!”

you cut yourself off as eddie pressed his cock inside slowly, burying a few inches within your tight, slick walls. he was so thick you could feel everything — feel the burning stretch of him opening you up despite the aid of your wetness.

“shit, you’re tight,” eddie hissed, arms tensing beneath your fingers. “so, so tight.”

“fuck — why are you s-so big?” you gasped out, fingers digging into flesh as you squeezed, cunt fluttered as it was stretched almost impossibly wide. wider than you’d ever been before.

“i thought i was average.” eddie pushed out with a dry laugh, and if your brain could actually concentrate on anything else, you may have had the coordination to kick him with your heel for the sarcasm.

“nothing about that is average.” you whimpered out, eyes rolling back when eddie had finally, finally seated himself fully inside your pussy. your hips ached from the pressure in between them, tingles erupting through your stomach and thighs as your cervix was pushed against.

it felt so fucking good, a satisfying sort of pain that promised a most tender ache later.

“f-fast or slow?”

eddie groaned out when he bucked his hips in shallow, paced-out thrusts. part of your brain screamed at you to say slow, to give your pussy the adequate time needed to adjust to his size, but what fell from your mouth was, “fuckin’ fast, eddie. fuck me hard and fast.”

“fuckin’ shit,” eddie panted, eyes blown wide in fascination as he stared down at you. “d’you want me to break you in half?”

why that made your heart skip a beat, you weren’t sure.

maybe it was his cologne blocking up your nose, maybe it was his warmth seeping into your body, maybe it was his monster cock buried inside you and stealing your breath away — whatever it was, it made your chest swell with something similar to affection that nestled deeper inside with each second that you looked into his eyes.

“m-maybe,” you stuttered out, eyes fluttering when eddie cursed under his breath and thrusted, large cock bruising your insides and pulling a breathless moan from your throat.

“fuck, faster—” you tried to plead, only to be cut off by eddie wrapping his fingers firmly around your throat.

“yeah, yeah, i hear you angel.” eddie growled lowly, other hand falling to grip your hip. “just shut up and let me take care of you already.”

eddie made good on his words; he bullied his cock into you at a ruthless pace, slick squelches and slaps reverberating around the copse of trees sheltering the table you were being absolutely railed on. wails fell from your lips, loud and wanton, pussy fluttering and clenching with every drag and slide of his thick cock.

“so beautiful, angel,” eddie murmured, fingers warm around your throat. the grasp he held it in felt almost affectionate, not too firm to cut off any air but just enough to assert a sort of dominance over you. it was absolutely dizzying.

“you sound so beautiful, fuck. losing it on my cock, shit, it’s so good—”

eddie’s praise fell into a cacophony of moans, groans and whines as his hips slapped against your ass. you could barely hold your eyes open, but the sight of his fucked-out expression was simply too pretty to miss.

you’d always thought eddie munson was beautiful, but in this moment, he looked absolutely ethereal — eyes cinched shut and brows furrowed, sultry lips popped open and skin slick with sweat as he fucked his cock into you. an image of erotic perfection.

your clit throbbed from neglect, begging for some attention — something to rival the painful pleasure eddie was forcing into your cunt. you swallowed hard and squeezed his arm once, then twice, breath almost stolen when his eyes opened to look down at you.

“e-eddie, wan’ cum. please.” you slurred out, unable (or unwilling) to remove your hands from his arms to rub your clit yourself. part of you willed eddie to understand the underlying implication in your plea, and to your immense relief, he did.

eddie’s eyes lidded and his voice, full of thick gravel, was soft, “of course, sweet girl. you’re doing so good, after all.”

without ever pausing his brutal thrusts, eddie removed his hand from your throat. you whined at the loss, but it was quickly shoved aside by a moan when his hand fell between your thighs. like a honing missile, his thumb pressed against your clit and rubbed, applying just enough pressure to help that build up in your gut.

“ah, oh god, oh, yes.” you babbled, eyes rolling back and back arching subtly. it was absolutely otherworldly, the way his cock rubbed every single spot within your walls, spreading you so thin from the pleasure.

there was one thing you knew for certain now: eddie munson sure could fuck.

“fuck, you’re — you’re suckin’ me in so deep. gon’ cum, pretty girl?” eddie growled, hips pistoning savagely, bullying your breath from you. all you could do was nod fervently, as there was no way you could push and words past the moans and wails dropping from your lips.

“yeah, you are. gon’ make a mess all over this cock. fuck, you’re beautiful. come on now, cum f’me, dove.”

it was all you needed — the rabid thrusting, the firm circles around your clit, eddie’s voice —

you released an almost animalistic scream as that coil finally snapped — fluid gushed from your cunt, easing the sloppy slide of eddie’s cock inside your walls, your clit throbbed in time with your walls, and waves of pleasure crashed through your body like a hurricane.

“oh, yeah — mmm — that’s my girl. that’s my fuckin’ girl. cum on it, sweetheart.” eddie groaned, hips stuttering as he fucked you through your orgasm. your moans were quickly receding to whimpers as the pleasure ebbed, overstimulation creeping up in its place.

“fuck, baby, can i bust in you? please?” eddie nearly whimpered, cock twitching and kicking up against the roof of your pussy. he was close, probably only hanging on by a thread, and you did something you never thought you would — you nodded.

eddie’s lips crashed into yours and his tongue licked into your mouth as his thrusts became more desperate, fluid and fast, now determined to chase his own release. his groans were deep and reverberating, filled with such lust that you found your gut heating once more.

“shit, ‘m— hah — ‘m comin’, baby.” eddie whined into your mouth as he slammed his hips into yours in one large, savage thrust; his cock twitched and jumped inside you as thick ropes shot into your channel, painting your walls with warmth.

eddie ground his hips into yours slowly as he rode out his orgasm, fingers bruising the skin of your hip, voice absolutely wrecked, “god, ‘m fillin’ you up. pumpin’ you full.”

he sounded so pleased with it, as if the fact that he was essentially breeding you, (y/n) carver, was the hottest, most incredible achievement one could earn.

maybe it was — not like you’d know. what really mattered is what you did know: this most certainly would not be your last rendezvous with eddie munson.

even if your brother absolutely hated his guts, you loved the way he rearranged yours. and nothing your brother said about eddie could possibly change that.

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[webism]

☆ gojo is so big that you have to go slow with taking him otherwise he will break you. and he loves that fact—he’s so cocky about it, about how every aspect of him is so overwhelming to you that you can’t take his cock without crying.

and they’re good tears, tears that taste good on his tongue when he licks them from your cheeks. tears that spring hot in your eyes with every inch he manages into you—he’s too much, though at the same time you can never get enough of him.

“gonna finally take all of me tonight, baby?” he mocks you, grins at the way your eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at your clit in hopes of relaxing you a tad. “you know, i could flip us over.. let gravity do the hard work.”

you accept because it sounds good in theory. gojo flips you both over and lays on his back as you find purchase with your fingers splayed over his heaving chest. but being like this, with satorus pulsing dick still barely half inside of you, you realise gravity hates you.

because although you're dropping just that little bit further down on his cock, your legs are trembling like it's an effort to keep you off of him. and gojo, being the cocky man he is, takes hold of your hips and works you even further downwards onto his length.

"fuck," is all you can manage, he's painful and narcotic all in the same stroke and so deep inside of you that you swear he's in your stomach. you shake your head, "i can't. you're too big, im sorry."

satoru shakes his head, looks up at you with those lust-blown eyes of his and smiles. "you want me to pull out?"

and as he tries to pull you up and off his length, slow as not to hurt you, there's a look on his face that you can't miss. he's so pretty when he's plotting, but you're only given a second to admire him, because just as he's about to pull the tip of his aching cock out of you, he lets go of your hips.

and your legs fail you, your body collapses downwards and you, in turn, are impaled on his prodigious length once again. you could cry, you think you do—your cheeks are wet when you fall forwards and your gasp of shock is swallowed by gojo, who kisses you hungrily. his fingers dig into your hips as he smiles against your kiss.

you feel his cock twitch inside of you, deeper than you've ever been able to take him before, and you realise you're practically at the base. you've never felt so full... so good... so stretched out and overwhelmed. and when your boyfriend tests the waters and fucks up into you just a little, a breathy moan is drawn straight from your lungs.

"toru—"

"shh," he snaps his hips up again to stall your words. "finally gonna cum inside of you, baby, not pulling out until you're left just as full as you are now."

and if your lover is anything at all, it's a man of his words. you'll have to call in sick tomorrow.

[azlovesem]

So what instead these fools moghtvwant to work out a deal today? How thongs vhange. Knowing the true nsture of time eont give humsnity infinite time. But itll give it a lot more. I have access to the computer the mainframe. Reality is not what anyone thinks Roan. What ur a smart girl is sexuality and singing all you can imagine no of course not. You csn inagine snything anyone ever did. Csn you eork out the math no. Come up with the words to desctibe the essence of time no. But if i told you you eould be sble yo tell the difference snd that there donething to what ive been saying all along. We re not a building a giant pyramid of cultures everyone has to accept. How eill that ever help? We hsve to accept we re going about things sll wrong snd chsnge or we re all doomed. Snd its not because im a prophet i know this a lot of people know. Everubidy fuckn knows just like Cohen said. The dice are loaded. We hsve to unload them and choose to do so. Or i know this bad feeling ive been getting latrly. Its not any of this shit Emma you nothing. I thought maybe but no that was fun iltheybfifnt tske much monetary eise and i let thst go. Its something rlse domething realky bad thats made me this irate. Ishi leave that fuckn dip shit keatons kid alone. Archs fisperse homour of the system i hsve to think clearly snd alone.

CHAPPELL ROAN Performs "Good Luck, Babe!" at the 2024 MTV Video Music Awards (Sept 11, 2024)

[norrisainz33]

the call || platonic grid & gr63

☆ summary: y/n y/l/n gets a call up to race for alpine with 6 races left in the 2024 season and she’s got something to prove.

☆ pairing: platonic!grid x crush!george russell x rookie!female!reader

☆ fc & warnings: no fc. some hate comments and poor grammar on my end

☆ a/n: i was inspired by franco and liam getting called up to race for the remainder of the season and here we are. no hate to este bestie, just pretending dw. this is not supposed to be accurate to exactly how things have been playing out. smau mixed with writing!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

f1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, pierregasly, landonorris, georgerussell63, yourbff, ynupdates, and 867,234 others

f1: 🚨 breaking: y/n y/l/n will be racing under the number 95 for alpine for the remainder of the 2024 season alongside pierre gasly. y/n’s first race will be the united states grand prix. this is the first time since 1992 that a woman has raced in a grand prix format - this will be a historic weekend.

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user1: this is the best thing to ever happen to me you don’t understand

pierregasly: ready to attack the rest of the season with you ynuser!!

ynuser: here’s to a strong finish 💪🏻

alpinef1team: we can’t wait to have our girl on track!

user12: they really think a woman is going to be any better than what they had??? please….

user1: oh you are miserable. get out of here

georgerussell63: epic! ynuser i am so proud of you

ynuser: 🤍 see you in austin

user2: i can’t believe im witnessing a woman f1 driver in my life time. i am crying real tears of joy

landonorris: from our karting days to f1. you are amazing ynuser! looking forward to being on track with you

ynuser: so glad to be racing with you again lando 🤍

user3: this is monumental

user6: we got a woman in f1 before gta6

✿

you sat in silence staring down at the paperwork in front of you. everyone had long since left returning to their duties, allowing you to process what you had just been told. “it’s really happening,” you whispered feeling tears welling in your eyes. you were about to become an f1 driver - a real life f1 driver!! and no, not just a reserve driver who did nothing but the sim all day every day. your shoulders sagged as you blew out a sigh. “it was all worth it,” you thought back to the years of blood, sweat and tears put into racing — from leaving the comfort of your childhood home to go karting in europe, to watching your parents give up everything to make sure your dreams came true, to finding yourself in f1 academy where you won the championship, to fighting for a chance to race in f2 and becoming the only woman to finish in the points - you had given everything to this sport and you were finally getting your chance.

you picked up your phone and dialed your best friend. “y/n? hi! did you have your meeting yet?!”

“i’m going to drive the rest of the season,” you said softly.

“WHAT?!” your best friend practically screamed into the other end of the phone.

“i’m taking the second alpine seat!!! im going to be starting in austin.” the tears of happiness started falling now.

“oh my god y/n/n!!!! YOU DID IT BABY YOU DID IT!” you could hear your best friend jumping up and down in excitement.

“i did it.”

✿

ynuser has posted to their story

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user1: i can't explain to you how excited i am to see you on track this weekend y/n

pierregasly: jealous you got the media duties with the horses and not the american football team like i did.....

ynuser: HAHA idk why they didnt send us together

pierregasly: they knew our joint slay would be too much to handle

user7: as a young woman in a male dominated field... thank you for representing us. i love you and i am so proud of you

yourbff: my flight lands in exactly 1 hour and i am shaking with excitement

ynuser: if you think you're shaking with excitement you should see me... just got word im in the pre race press conference with george and max v......... pray for me girl

yourbff: okok we knew this was going to happen. of course they'll want to talk to you!! you're the new face on the grid

ynuser: is it bad to admit im afraid?

yourbff: admitting you’re afraid just means you’re human y/n. you're allowed to feel

ynuser: idk what i'd do with out you

yourbff: you'll never have to know! now go get ready!! i'll be there just in enough time to make the conference start.

yourbff: p.s your media day fit absolutely ate that dress and the cowgirl hat was lethal. f1 should be thanking you for being such a baddie

georgerussell63: howdy ms y/n

ynuser: howdy georgie --- see you at the press conference 🙂‍↔️

georgerussell63: looking forward to it

landonorris: NEIGHHHH

ynuser: lando?

landonorris: sorry was pretending to be one of those horses so you'd pay attention to me

ynuser: hahahahaha you muppet. ive missed you

landonorris: i missed you too y/n/n! believe it or not i miss fighting it out on track with you too. ready to smoke ya just like i did in our karting days

ynuser: i mean you are in a mclaren and have a lot of practice so id certainly hope you were faster than me

landonorris: well when you put it like that its not as fun.......

user9: bought an alpine hat and am bedazzling a shirt with your name on it as we speak

✿

the alpine pr team had wasted no time sitting you down as soon as you got to austin. they ran through what to expect from your media duties, how to respond to any and all questions that might be thrown your way and how to save face if needed but somehow as you sat down on the iconic white couch and looked out at the crowd of reporters forming in front of you, you felt all of that training start to fail you. the nerves were taking over as george and max took their spots to your right. you were thankful when the british driver gave you a reassuring smile and a slight nod letting you know it was ok.

"good afternoon and welcome to the 2024 united states grand prix!" the interviewer beamed at the camera before turning his attention to the three of you. "today we are joined by max verstappen, george russell and formula 1's newest driver, y/n y/l/n."

the interviewer started by asking max about the championship and how he was feeling about lando continuing to close the gap. you used that time to steady your breathing, knowing a question was headed your way at any moment. "y/n, first of all, i want to say congratulations!" the interviewer grinned and you smiled back. "you are coming into this season with only 6 races left and a rather tall order to get up to speed quickly for some points and fight for a seat on the grid in 2025. how are you feeling about it all?"

you sighed, relieved at an easy first question, "thank you! i'm trying to take it all in stride. it's definitely a tall order because these guys have had 19 races to get a feel for their cars, work with their teams, and solidify their standings… i'm going to have exactly one free practice to learn everything before heading into sprint qualifying and i think that puts me a little bit on the back foot. though, i am more confident than ever that i can pull out some points and finish this season strong for alpine."

the interviewer nodded along intently as you spoke, "do you think being the first female in formula 1 since 1992 also puts you a bit on the back foot?"

this. this was the type of question you were dreading. you knew what it was like to be questioned about your skills purely because you were a woman, it had been happening throughout your entire life but that didn't mean it still didn't get to you. you picked your mic back up but before you could say anything into it, george was already speaking, "i don't think thats a fair question to ask. her being a woman has nothing to do with her racing, let us not forget that she is here for a reason. y/n has an incredibly impressive resume and i'd be happy to recite it for you if you need the reminder."

*george fcking russell. the man that you are* you thought as a smirk formed on your face. "thank you george," you said managing to keep your voice steady as you continued, "i don't think being a woman puts me on the back foot at all. it's 2024 - i think we're past the point of asking questions like this. I may be the first woman in way too long to race in a grand prix but i certainly will not be the last." you put the microphone down, daring the interviewer to say something in return but instead he turned his attention back to max and kept it there for the remainder of the session which you weren't mad about at all.

✿

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liked by pierregasly, alpinef1team, georgerussell63, francolapinto, carlossainz55, charlesleclerc and 743,937 others

ynuser: p9 baby!!!!!! i scored two points!!!! cota - thank you for the love and for an incredible first weekend in formula 1. i will never forget you 🤍

view all 1,987 comments

user9: best weekend of my life!!!! first gp i’ve ever been to and i got to meet you at the fan zone!! i couldn’t have asked for more

alpinef1team: try not to say goat challenge failed

ynuser: 🤍🩷

user10: i sobbed watching you cross the line

pierregasly: points points points points

ynuser: you next bestie!!

pierregasly: we’re going to both score big this triple header i just know it

user13: i love how these two have become instant friends. i hope alpine doesn’t split my family up in abu dhabi

user44: history - we’re watching you make history

francisca.cgomes: i don’t think you understand how attached i am to you now y/n

ynuser: and i don’t think you understand how much i love you kika. legally you have to come to all the rest of the races please and thank you

francisca.cgomes: for you? done!

pierregasly: um? hello?

ynuser: im sorry p.. look away

yourbff: i have no words. i love you more than life itself

ynuser: i love you - thank you for being there

landonorris: statement MADE

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

georgerussell63: i’m so proud of you im about to openly weep

ynuser: we can openly weep together

carlossainz55: congrats y/n!

ynuser: thank you carlos 🤍

francolapinto: viva y/n!

ynuser: viva franco!

lewishamilton: 🤍🤍

ynuser: 🩷🩷

user15: noticing so many of the drivers here supporting her is everything

user4: and the fact that so many of them are praising her efforts and talking so highly of her in interviews 🥹

user15: everyone loves her (except for the rbr duo, did you see her and checo having words after that race?)

user4: omg yeah grandpa was pissed but honestly he’s probably just worried she’s going to take his seat

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user9: pretty, talented, smart … you’re the whole package

landonorris: hell yeah it does. the car will be here in about an hour! meet us in the lobby?

ynuser: yes!! assuming we shouldn’t come down too early since we run the risk of people being down there?

landonorris: yeah, no more than 5 mins before

user10: hottest person on the grid no doubt

georgerussell63: blimey i’m excited

ynuser: me too! i need a drink after this weekend

georgerussell63: you better get used to it y/n! this is your life now

ynuser: and i’m glad it is 🤍

user14: i think i have a crush on you

oscarpiastri: hi

ynuser: hi oscar!! did lando send you the details for tonight?

oscarpiastri: yes he did!

pierregasly: me and kika are ready to GO

ynuser: me and y/bff are too! let’s get this party started

user11: keep this momentum going into mexico y/n!!

user4: we needed a chronically online it girl in this sport so bad im so glad you’re here

✿

george poured you another glass of champagne as you giggled, "i should really be sick of champagne by now but i don't know that i ever will be."

"well thats good y/n/n! you're going to be drinking a lot more of it soon enough," george said loud enough that you could hear him over the music. the club was packed with more people than you would've expected for sunday evening especially a sunday evening in texas but here you were in a packed club chugging champagne with old and new friends. oscar, lily, carlos, rebecca, lando, george, pierre, kika, franco, charles and alex all came out with you and y/bff and you were honestly a bit shocked by the turn out. though you should've known that lando and george were not going to let you celebrate by yourself.

you had grown up with the two of them on the karting track and you even managed to be in f2 in the same year george won the championship. they meant a lot to you -- you looked up to them since the start so to have their unwavering support now that you made it to f1 meant more than you could express. none of this was going to be easy but being surrounded by a strong support system would make it a lot less painful.

you smiled up at george as he downed the last bit of his cocktail, intently watching as the last little bit dripped from the side of his mouth. you took a big gulp reminding yourself of the room of people around you. that was another thing that was around since your karting days... your massive crush on george. while you both had seen other people between now and then, there was no doubt that it was still alive and well. but as far as that was concerned, it was a bit of a one sided crush. it's not that george had ever told you outright that he wasn't interested, you just never had the guts to tell him and he only ever made one move and has been ignoring that it happened since. the closest you two ever got to something more than friends was the night after he won the f2 championship. you two were inseparable during that season so when he asked you to come with him back to his hotel room after his massive party, you didn't think twice about it. you two flopped down onto the bed with your takeaway meal fresh in front of you and the tv turned on to some animated movie you couldn't remember the name of. george was sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body from where he gently was resting against yours. "y/n/n," he whispered causing you to look up at him, "i love you." you smiled, having heard him say this many times.. he was your best friend after all. "I love you too!" you responded and before you could process what happened, his lips were on yours. and unfortunately for you, thats about where that ended. george realized what he was doing and absolutely panicked, begged you to forgive him and to not talk about it again so thats what you did. but on nights like this one, where he was looking fine as ever... it was hard not to long for him.

"helllooooooo earth to y/n!!!" lando almost shouted pulling you out of your thoughts.

"yes, yes! hi!" you rolled your eyes taking the drink out of his hand.

the rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, laughs and champagne. things were looking up and you couldn't be more excited for what the future held for you. you had done it. your dream had come true.

✿

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by pierregasly, ynuser, judebellingham, taylorzahkarperez, landonorris, georgerussell63, yourbff, yoursibling, and 546,123 others

alpinef1team: 1 down. 2 to go. mexico city, here we come!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: omg if you made it this far... thank you for reading!!! likes and reblogs are massively appreciated. i'm thinking of making this a series with y/n racing in the last few races of the season. if you liked this, let me know so i can judge if this will get a part 2!! much love 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[motherismotheringggg]

SLOW BURN pt. 2

read part one here!!!

im SO sorry it took me 84739293929 years for part two, i had the worst brain fog but she’s here — enjoy pookies <3

type: female reader x cooper koch x nicholas chavez

tags/warning: 18+, NSFW, smut, kissing, oral (f! receiving), hand job (m! receiving) — i think that’s it but lemme know if i missed anything!!

word count: 2090 (significantly shorter than the first one)

@kiwisaremediocre @darlingnikkisixx @adollsmind @fallout-girl219

⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️

You stood outside your cabin, the glow from your phone illuminating your face as you checked for any new texts. The night was still, with the occasional rustle from the trees around you, each sound sharpening the anticipation thrumming in your chest.

You heard a distant rustle, making your pulse spike. You squinted in the direction of the noise, but no figures emerged from the shadows. You rolled your eyes just as ding ding—a text came through.

coopy 💘

“we’re still wrapping up with kitchen duty, nicholas

ripped another trash bag”

“sorry!!!”

How could you be mad at that? You sent back a heart and said it’s okay, you were just waiting outside of your cabin to let them in.

The air between you, Nicholas, and Cooper had shifted ever since the night you'd shared weeks ago. It was undeniable now—a simmering, magnetic pull that made every shared glance, every graze of a hand, a thrill of its own. Those stolen touches and flirty moments had only fueled the chemistry, leaving you all on edge and craving more.

A few days after the heated moment in your room on what you call deemed as “goodie bag night”, you and Nicholas were checking the trail at the end of the day for campers’ lost items when he ate you out on the bench table in the middle of the forest.

You two knew you’d be alone so something was bound to happen; of course a hot makeout session where it felt like your lips and hands desperately search each other’s bodies to find more of each other was bound to happen but when he backed you into the table, lifted you up and immediately pulled down your shorts and buried his head between your thighs you were shocked at how bold he was.

He took breaks to kiss and rub your thighs but focused all his energy on your womanhood, with each flick of his tongue and the warmth of his breath drawing out a reaction you could barely contain yourself. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you anchored to the bench table as he explored every sensitive spot with an almost overwhelming intensity. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your breath hitching with each delicate stroke, feeling like he was savoring every second just as much as you were.

Nicholas looked up every so often with a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly enjoying the way he made you shiver and gasp. He slowed down just to watch your expression change, a sly grin tugging at his lips as he gave you a moment to catch your breath—before diving back in, his tongue tracing slow, tantalizing patterns that made it impossible to stay quiet.

By the time you felt the climax building, you were gripping the edge of the bench, your back arching as he brought you closer and closer. It felt raw and real, the two of you hidden away, surrounded by the openness of the forest, yet completely absorbed in each other.

You decided to go back inside your cabin while you waited for them. “coopy 💘” texted you said that managed to get the trash cleaned up now they just had to mop and then they’d be on their way over.

You started nervously tidying up things around your cabin while you waited for the “on our way!!” text. You found yourself pacing around and nervously fidgeting – when you realized you straightened out the items on your nightstand for the third time you stopped. “What is going on with me? You thought to yourself, already knowing the answer.

Tonight, you and the boys finally hinted at taking things all the way and having sex, moving past just the charged kisses and stolen touches. It felt inevitable—everything had been leading up to this. All the tension, the breathless, hands-on moments in the first aid shed, the teasingly dirty texts—it all felt like a slow burn toward this night. The three of you had known from the start that this was where things were headed, and now, the unspoken promise between you was finally ready to be fulfilled. It nearly was the last time you and Cooper were together.

The Shining played in the background on your laptop while you and Cooper made out in your bed. His hands warm and familiar against your skin. You could barely focus on the movie, your attention locked on the way his fingers trailed slowly along your waist and his breath tickled your neck. Each kiss felt like it could be the start of something more, something neither of you would stop if you finally let go. You’d both drawn the line before things went too far, but in this moment you wanted Cooper and he wanted you.

He was on top of you, his body pressing gently into yours, each kiss sweet and tender but growing deeper, like he couldn't bear to pull away. His lips moved with a hunger that matched yours, each kiss feeling like a promise to keep you safe. Your hands roamed his muscular back, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth of his skin as he whispered your name against your lips, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he needs you.

He stopped and pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes affectionately, the lowlights of your cabin highlighting his impeccable facial structure and jawline. He flashed his little smile as he does and said, “God, you’re so beautiful”, you blushed and he sat upright.

Rubbing your thighs that surrounded him, he continued “I just…” he hesitated, “I want you so bad right now,” his voice was soft, filled with a genuine warmth that made you melt a little deeper into the moment.

You looked at him, desire heavy in your gaze, and murmured, “You’re so sweet.” Your hand moved to his torso, fingers tracing gentle circles. “I know we both want to wait for Nicholas, but… I think he’d understand if it was just us.”

Cooper cocked his head with a slight smirk, amusement glinting in his eyes. “It’s just… different between you two,” you continued. “Nicholas is intense, moves fast, like he can’t hold back. But with you… it feels safe, like time slows down a little… like this time together is special.”

You felt embarrassed for some reason and let out a slight laugh, “I’m sorry,” you covered your face in shame “that sounded like i was in loved for a second” you said through a muffled nervous laugh.

Cooper chuckled softly, his hand gently pulling yours away from your face as he met your eyes. “Hey,” he murmured with a smile, “don’t apologize. I get it.” He leaned in, brushing a thumb along your cheek before pressing his lips to yours, a slow, deep kiss that seemed to dissolve any lingering embarrassment. His hands held you firmly, grounding you, letting you feel his steady warmth.

When he pulled back just a fraction, his gaze was soft and sincere. “I like that it feels special,” he whispered, his voice low. “And I don’t mind feeling in love if it’s with you.” He grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, and you felt a quiet thrill settle over you, the intimacy deepening with every gentle touch.

He continued, “Plus me and Nicholas have been talking about ways we can kind of balance each other out” between every few words he would plant kisses on your lips.

“Oh so there’s a plan”, you joke as you pull back to give him a sly look.

“Of course, we gotta take care of our girl,” he flashed a smile.

You smiled back softly, feeling your heart swell at his words. “Maybe for now, I could just take care of you?” you offered, your hand sliding down to his waistband, fingers grazing the skin just below. His breath hitched, and he gave a slight nod, leaning his forehead against yours as he let out a low, appreciative chuckle.

Your hand moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the way his breaths grew heavier, the slight tremor in his voice as he whispered your name. You wrapped your hand around his hardness and started to work your hand up and down. He grabbed at your arm, begging you to keep that pace.

You pulled apart from his kiss to enjoy his sounds, his face was buried into your neck. You could tell he focused on your movements and how good they made him feel. "Is this how you like it?" you whispered to him. He pulled his head up from your nook to nod and groan. You ran your hand back up his shaft to the tip and rubbed your thumb over it. He squirmed - "yes. god, yes." he breathed out, his head lulling back into your shoulder.

You planted kisses on the side of his face and down his neck as you moved your hand faster, stopping to tease his tip now and again. With both your eyes locked, his gaze was hazy with pleasure, his lips parted as he let out breathy sounds that only spurred you on. You leaned forward to kiss along his jaw, then down the length of his neck, feeling him shiver under your touch. Each movement of your hand made him pulse in your grip, and you could tell he was holding back, trying to make this moment last.

He tightened his grip on your arm, his fingers pressing into your skin as he tried to steady himself. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. His hips began to move in sync with your rhythm, each subtle thrust letting you know just how close he was. You leaned into his ear, your voice a soft whisper. "I don't want you to cum yet, can you hold back for me?" you asked him in a coddling tone. He nodded "yes." while his eyes looked weakened under your control.

Your hand slid up to his tip once again and swiping your thumb across it, you felt the precum that came from it. His gasp shuttered and he continued to squirm. He shut his eyes tight to focus on following your directions while his mouth fell slightly open.

“Fuck – fuck – oh fuck," he said under his breath. He was so focused on holding out for you, he didn't want to finish without your say so because you had been so good to him.

You could see him trying hard to hold it in, wanting you to know he would do anything to keep you happy - it was time for his reward. “Cum for me," you whispered into his ear as you bit on his lobe. He whimpered at the praise and after a few more strokes, he came right into your hand. His body trembled at the release of pleasure as he fell into you.

After a few seconds, he gently pulled away and sat up, casting you a soft, grateful smile. “Be right back,” he whispered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before slipping out if bed to grab something to clean up. When he returned, he moved carefully, almost tenderly, making sure you were comfortable as he helped clean up with a warm cloth.

Settling back into the bed, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, voice filled with quiet admiration. You smiled, nestling into him, feeling safe and cherished as his fingers traced soothing patterns on your back. The two of you lay there, wrapped up in each other, comfortable silence settling as he held you close, your breaths slowly falling in sync.

You sat on your bed, nervously fidgeting when your phone rang again;

NAC!!!!

“we’re heading out now, can i shower in your cabin pls? i

fucking reek 😭”

You typed back quickly, “Of course, see you soon.” The realization hit you as you put the phone down—they were on their way. In a matter of minutes, the cabin would fill with their presence, their warmth, and everything you’d been waiting for.

You settled on the bed, glancing around, feeling butterflies dance in your stomach. You could picture it now—the three of you tangled together, hands exploring, voices mingling in laughter and quiet whispers, each touch and glance blending into something real and undeniably special.

A knock at the door pulled you back to the present. Taking a steadying breath, you walked over, opening yourself to the night ahead.

[r4ilway]

Spots of Jealousy (Pt. 1)

This is a series!

Summary: Your friends invite you to a Halloween party. The man you won't acknowledge that you have a small crush on comes with another girl you've never met before. Not knowing what to feel or do, you give him a taste of his own medicine by messing with your roommate in front of him.

pairing: college!Hyunjin x college!Reader, some college!Chan x college!Reader

genre: Suggestive ❤️‍🔥

warnings: bad writing, Alcohol consumption, fake blood, a lot of tension, making out, dry humping (?), grinding

notes: hi, first fic ever on here. im really rusty on writing so im sorry if some moments seem rushed or just not right? yeah idk. also its NOT PROOFREAD!

divider by: @strangergraphics

Walking into the lecture hall, you took a seat next to the long black-haired male wearing a loose black sweater and jeans. His laptop was out on the table, and he was looking through his phone. Noticing your presence, he turned to you.

"Morning Y/N, did Felix say he'd come today?" He asked, his sleepy eyes looking into yours.

"I dunno hyunnie. He didn't text in the groupchat," You replied.

You placed some coffee candies near his hand that rested on the wooden desk. His eyebrows raised seeing them. Sure they were probably not caffeinated, but maybe it's taste that mimicked his favourite americanos would wake him up.

You settled down at your desk, and a few minutes later, Felix took a seat next to me. His blonde hair a little disheveled, and he wore an oversized shirt and swearpants.

"Morning Y/N, Hyung," He smiled softly.

"Hey Felix." You said, passing him some candy, he smiled. He opened the wrapper and ate one of them.

Our professor came in a few moments later, starting off the lesson.

While the lesson was reaching its end, Felix got bored. He looked through his phone and was reminded of what he wanted to say.

"Are yall going to the party later this week?" Felix asked in a hushed voice.

"What party?" You replied.

"Johnny's. He's hosting a halloween party on Saturday night."

"What?" Hyunjin butted in.

"You guys didn't know?" Felix questioned.

Hyunjin and I shook heads.

"Who's coming?" Hyunjin asked.

"The usual, Minho, Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin, Chan, Jisung, and whoever else,"

Your ears perked up hearing Chan's name mentioned. He didn't seem one for parties, at least from the conversations you were having. What You had with Chan seemed complex but really was the same old trope. You met him and the boys through Hyunjin, your roommate. They'd have gatherings and since your apartment was the largest and most available, it became the designated hang-out spot. They always extend the invitation to you. When you first saw Chan you thought he was very attractive, his black undercut hair, sharp eyes and nose, and such a built body. He wasn't the most popular kid around college, but he was averagely known, by his group of friends too. So if you had found him attractive surely girls did too. The more you guys hung out, the more you got to know his caring nature, the small gestures he would do, like protecting sharp corners of furniture with his hands, his calloused hands that rubbed your thighs if were watching a scene you didn't like, or his need to always have some sort of skinship with you, his arm next to yours, your legs on his lap. The tension was ever-growing between you two, you got excited if he were to come over, him having a small smile whenever near you. You had a small crush on him, maybe a little bigger than small. But yet, none of you said anything, enjoying whatever "don't wanna love" attitude you both shared. Your texts would also have hints of flirting, like cops and robbers chasing each other.

"Johnny said to bring a date, or come with friends..the more the merrier," Felix added.

"Kay, you have an costume already?" Hyunjin asked.

"Yeah! I'm being Thor this year," He replied.

You all laughed knowing he would look ridiculous in the costume. Soon enough, the class ended. You packed up your things and left, walking out of the building.

The three of you proceeded to walk to parking lot, Felix was hanging out at your place for the day to get some work done, and you and Hyunjin just wanted to crash. While walking out of the campus, you saw chan walking with a girl. You recognised her, Haru, she was a pretty popular girl in school, always sociable and obviously attractive. Your heart sank a little seeing Chan with her. Of course he'd be with her. But what about what you guys had? All the small touches, tender words, suggestive moments? You pulled yourself out of those thoughts, no longer looking in their direction. Reaching the parking lot, you guys hopped into the car and left.

A few days passed, and Saturday evening had already arrived. The group chat with you and the 8 boys was super active, they were discussing costumes, who needed a ride and who they were coming with. You on the other hand were getting ready, your makeup took extra time as it was something you hadn't tried. There's been a recent trend of leopard makeup, and you decided to go as a sexy leopard, a leopard print halter top that cut low, exposing your cleavage, with a miniskirt of the same print. After some time, you finally finish your look and admire yourself in the mirror. Your eyes that mimicked the predator animal made you look sultry, the dark lip you had accentuated its plumpness. Good luck to anyone who saw you tonight, cause you were definitely stealing the spotlight.

Hyunjin knocked on your door and opened it, seeing you check yourself out in the mirror.

"Y/N, could you help me out with the makeup?"

You nodded. And told him to come in and sit in your chair. Hyunjin was always handsome, and you felt an attraction to him all the time. Didn't help that you would find him in just sweatpants when you were getting late night snacks, and his muscles would look oh so good in the dim lighting.

"What do you want done hyunie?"

"Some eyeshadow? Maybe blood on the corner of my lip?" He said, looking up at you.

You picked up some dark eyeshadow, and brushed it on his eyelid, making his gaze darker from his usual soft look. This was the closest you've been to each other despite living under one roof. His eyes stared up at you as while you concentrate on him. Your heart started pumping a bit faster, and the air in the room was harder to breathe.

"You have a date for tonight?" He asked.

"No, but Felix did say we can come with friends, I'm assuming we're the friends?" You lightly laughed, yet a hint of sadness in your voice.

While everyone in the groupchat was talking about just coming as friends and bringing their other friends, Chan didnt reply much. You let them know you didnt really have a date either and would love to match costumes with them, but they all had their own ideas. You guys ended up agreeing to just come as a group of friends, when probing Chan, he mentioned he'll be coming with someone else.

"You've seen Chan and Haru right? You think they're going together tonight?" He said

You froze for a second, your hand with the brush now pulled away from his eyes, your heart reenacting the sinking feeling when you first saw them walking earlier this week. You shrug, you really didn't know if they were and hoping they didn't.

"Ah, oh well, we'll just see later," He commented, taking your wrist to place the brush near his eye again.

You finished up his eye makeup, you had to calm down to work on his lips, and your heart was racing. You picked up some red lipstick and signalled him to open his mouth slightly. You painted on the red slowly, and his gaze continued to linger on you. You wished he'd stop, or at least not continuously keep his eyes on you like that. The tightness in your chest grew, you had to finish this now to save yourself from doing anything embarrassing. You picked up the fake blood he had in his hands and dripped it at the corner of his lips, the blood trailing further down, stopping at his chin before the drop fell to the floor. I stepped back from him, letting him look at himself in the mirror. He grinned seeing how attractive he looked.

"Thank you Y/N..you look amazing by the way." He commented.

You smiled, and started accesorising yourself, putting on the leopard ears that lied on your makeup table. You put on earrings, and bracelets, blinging yourself up.

"I'm gonna go first okay Y/N, gonna meet some other friends to pre-drink. You'll be alright hm?" He asked cuffing his sleeves up. Looking at you with his sharp gaze.

"Yes hyunnie, I'll get an uber or something," You smiled.

"Okay, see you there pretty~" He cooed, winking at you before closing the door.

When you heard the door close, the air suddenly felt clear in your airways, your heart rate slowed.

"Holy fuck.." You whispered to yourself, and sat on your bed.

Hyunjin was another problem you had in your life. He was always flirty, but he was flirty with everyone right? At least, thats what you saw. But he never really brought home a girl, or maybe he only did if you weren't around? Being roomates who were single had blurred the lines of friends so much, casual arm around shoulders or him carrying you on his back was nothing. You guys knew that this wasn't what just friends would do, but who cares right? But the tension always grew in that goddamn kitchen, it being a cosy fit for you two, so if you guys cooked together or were picking up something, you couldn't avoid each other. It didn't help with his inability to understand personal space, always being up in your face and him catching you staring at his back muscles whenever they showed. And the way he grabbed your wrist so casually yet with dominance just now, it'd be no surprise if something finally happened tonight.

You heard your phone vibrate and picked it up, seeing Felix had texted you.

Chicklix: still home? i'm getting an uber and can pick you up along the way.

Me: yeah im home

Chicklix: okay, see you in 15 😛

You turned your phone off, and checked your makeup once again. You touched up some of the leopard spots and filmed a few tiktoks to post, taking some selfies too. You headed down stairs, picking out a fruit to fill your stomach. Sitting on the living room couch, you put on your platform boots. Soon, your phone buzzed, seeing Felix text that hes here. Turning off all the lights, you left your apartment and walked to the uber, seeing the blonde in the car. You stepped in the car.

"Lets go."

You two arrived at the house, place, thanking the driver and quickly shutting the door. You finally got to see Felix under the street lights and burst out laughing.

"What?!" He asked.

"Bro, this is not thor..this is maybe a thur," You cackled, looking at the muscles that were deformed in his costume.

"OK! OK! I just wanted to feel cool, you're hating and people will like my costume. So lets go." He said, slinging his foam Mjolnir around his wrist.

You laughed and followed behind, hearing the music grow louder. The party had already started a few moments ago, the time read 12.03 AM. Stepping in, the bass of the speakers and subwoofers crawled through the floor all the way up your body. You and Felix waved through through the crowd and managed to find Minho, Changbin and Jisung amongst the crowd.

They all greeted you with smiles, complimenting your costume and makeup. Minho was dressed as Gojo Satoru, Changbin was a boxer, and Jisung was Shin from Nana. The wigs they wore were wacky, but their bodies did their costumes justice.

"Wheres the others?" Felix shouted over the music.

"The others? Hyunjin just came too, he's with Seungmin and Jeongin I think? Somewhere there," Jisung motioned, pointing west from where we were.

"So wheres Chan?" I asked, everyone was here but him.

"He's on his way i think!" Jisung replied.

I grinned at them and signalled that I'd go look for the other three. I walked in the general direction Jisung pointed me in, and soon saw a familiar silhouette with two other men.

"Y/N! You look great!" Jeongin said, with a wide red smile on his face. He donned a purple coat and green hair with white facepaint, the joker, of course.

Seungmin waved to you and he dressed as Pororo, and he really looked like it without any make up too. He was chatting with Hyunjin, who still looked as delectable as he did when he left home. They were all feeling the alcohol a little bit, which reminded you to grab one yourself. You told them you were gonna get a drink and if any of them wanted a refill.

"Help me get a drink pretty, make it strong too, thank you," Hyunjin bent down to you to whisper in your ear.

You nodded, goosebumps rising as you feel his hot breath on your ear, travelling down your spine. He was usually naturally close to you for sure, but he rarely ever did something like that. You sauntered away, your miniskirt shuffling against your upper thighs, making your ass barely shielded from wandering eyes. Yet thats what you wanted. You weren't the type to look sexy on halloween usually, last year you did a pretty accurate costume of Justin Bieber in his golden age, so you gave yourself a chance to just look irresistable tonight. You went towards the drinks and grabbed a cup, fixing yourself a tequila soda, knowing it gets you tipsy quick, you just got Hyunjin a whiskey and coke, you weren't sure what he usually gets, but this was a safe bet, pouring more whiskey than usual.

Walking back to the group, you saw an additional figure and a girl. At first, you thought it was Johnny, but Johnny had dyed hair, and this guy didn't. His black hair on the back of his head, and his biceps paraded with the tight black shirt he had on. He had a gun harness which wrapped around his chest. Judging from that and the belt and pants he wore, he was a police officer...and the girl next to him was a prisoner, in a tight orange jumpsuit, the bottom half allowed some of her ass to show through, a handcuff resting on her wrist. You sighed knowing exactly who the two were. Swallowing your pride, you walked towards them and slotted yourself between Hyunjin and Jeongin. Passing Hyunjin his drink, he smiled at you, nodding thank you before taking a drink. He made a face at the alcoholic taste that wasn't masked by the coke but remembered he asked to have it strong. You waved a small hello to Chan and Haru, not really paying any mind to them. You could feel his eyes on you, and your confidence turned into consciousness, did he think you were doing too much with your costume? Was your makeup bad? Were you showing too much skin? You suddenly felt small in his gaze, you left the house feeling so confident and so attractive and it all turned to everything opposite. And there Chan was, opposite you, looking dangerously fine. The way his black fringe covered his forehead, and his sharp eyes enhanced by the dark makeup similar to Hyunjins. Fake wound marks that went across his nose, and neck and fake bruises on his arm to make it look like he had just left a dangerous cop fight. And the stupid fucking shirt he had on, with the harness that pushed against his beautiful chest. He looked even more insatiable than normal, you hated it. Your eyes turned to Haru, her orange jumpsuit that stopped at her upper thigh, her make-up mimicking Chan's with her messy long hair. Your blood boiled thinking that no one else could've done that makeup for him but her, imagining both of them in the exact same scenario as you and Hyunjin.

You pulled yourself away from the group, not wanting to put yourself in such turmoil any longer. You gravitated towards the snacks, having little to eat that night. Take a big gulp of your drink, the taste going down your throat with resistance. You took a bite of the cream puff you had to chase the drink away, walking back to Minho and Changbin instead, but bumped into Hyunjin, he softly giggled and slung an arm around your shoulder to bring you to Changbin and Minho. They were sat on the couch, and you joined them.

"Lookin good Y/N," Minho smiled.

"Thank you Minho, I put in so much time in this makeup.." You complained.

He laughed. Hyunjin was sat next to you enjoying the music, nodding his head lazily to the music. His arm still slung around your shoulder, and he pulled you closer. You could smell the cologne he wore, and looked at the tight pants that enhanced his muscular thighs. Naturally you leaned into his touch.

"Who's that girl with Chan?" Minho asked.

"Haru or something," Hyunjin replied.

"Oh. Like a talking stage? Or just friend?"

"I don't know, i just see them around campus sometimes,"

You looked at Chan, the girl standing next to him as he talked to his other friends. You sighed to yourself. You weren't even sure why you hated the sight, you were not a thing with Chan, but theres definitely something going on between you two. And to match costumes too?

After a few moments of chatting Hyunjin was getting bored of sitting around, and the music wasn't hitting right yet.

"Did you guys know they have a pool table here? Wanna play?" Hyunjin asked

The 2 of you stood up, Changbin and Minho stayed behind, saying they'd maybe play later. The green suede table sat a bit further away from the main area, but you could still see it. They all picked up cue poles each, but you hesistated.

"I've never played pool you know," You commented, picking up a pole with uncertainty.

"I'll teach you," Hyunjin smiled.

Hyunjin broke the perfectly aligned balls, spreading them around the table. He then tried to get a ball in but didnt succeed. He gestured for your turn, and you walked up to the table. Hyunjin saw your struggle and came up behind you. You mimicked your pose like Hyunjin's, bending your body over, putting your pole behind the white ball but your position was off, and you didn't know how to position your fingers. Hyunjin saw your struggle and came up directly behind your bent body. You could feel the small distance between your ass and his crotch, and he quickly closed it up. He bent over, his face right next to yours.

"Put your fingers like this pretty," He whispered, posing your left fingers with his right hand.

He used the same hand and attached it to your right.

"Push with me,"

His right hand held yours and pushed the pole with enough force to push the white ball and hit a striped ball into the hole. You got up with excitement and your ass brushed against his front. You turned around and realised the closeness between you two. The air was hard to breathe again, seeing his costume in the lighting just made him even more fine. He usually wore baggy clothing, so this black button up he wore accentuated his arms, and it being slightly unbuttoned showed off his chest. You backed away and you back hit the table. He paid no mind to the space you created, closing it up again. He took away the pole in your hands and placed it on the table. His arms on each side of you.

"You're dangerous tonight Y/N," He slurred.

"Me? What about you? Everytime i make space you just come right here," You flirted, inserting a finger under his necklace, pulling him a bit closer. You sat yourself on the table, knocking some of the balls away. He stared up at you, his gaze was different. This wasn't anything like your casual flirts. The need in him was dire. His face so close to you, you could smell the alcohol. Your vision was getting a bit blurry too, which made it 10x easier to play around.

"We still have the rest of the night Y/N, lets make this game last," He smiled.

You lazily pushed him back, and got down from the table. Just then, Jeongin, Seungmin and Changbin came by to play pool too. You excused yourself, opting to find some other friends you heard would be at the party. Before you left, his arm snaked around your waist turning you towards him.

"Find me later pretty, promise?" He asked.

You nodded sweetly, pulling away from his hold and into the crowd once again. You saw your friend Belle standing alone, and approached her.

"Belle! You look amazing!" You comment, referring to her Barbie costume.

"Thank you! Y/N I havent seen you in awhile, and you look stunning babe, did you do the makeup yourself?"

"Yeah, sorry we havent talked in awhile, been so busy,"

You both sat on some stools, catching up on your lives in college. You guys also discussed the mutual friends you knew in your lives.

"Oh by the way, i keep seeing this girl with Chan all the time, who's that?" She asked.

"Girl, you don't know Haru?"

"Clearly not!"

"To be honest, I dont know much of her either..just know she's pretty and well liked,"

"But didn't you and Chan like...ya know"

"What?! What do you mean?" You exclaimed.

"Oh my god Y/N not like that! I meant you guys had something happening no?"

You sighed, thinking about whether you should just brush it off or talk about it.

"I don't know Belle, this has got me fucked up to be honest."

Belle nodded, urging you to continue.

"I dunno Belle, I mean i really think he's attractive, he casually flirts with me and always is gentle and sweet to me, he never once rejected some advances I made too. Now i'm so fucked up over him bringing another girl i dont even know to this damn party. And i dont even feel like its right for me to be mad cause we weren't ever a situationship or anything like that."

She placed a hand on your bare back, rubbing a thumb up and down in comfort. You sighed into her touch, placing a hand on her thigh as a thank you.

"I mean, if it helps you I noticed he's been looking at you a lot since he came,"

You shot her a look.

"Don't make me delusional Belle,"

"No I'm serious! When you went to play pool, his eyes just followed you to where you were going,"

"Am i supposed to believe you?"

"Well look at him right now," She gestured with a nod of her head.

You looked in the direction she pointed, and met eyes with Chan. He had Haru next to him, her hand on his thigh, but he was looking right at you. As you caught him, he didn't bother to even break the contact. You were dressed as a predator animal, but you were a prey now. You tensed up, and quickly turned back to Belle.

"He's been like that ever since he came, brought a girl with him but cant stop looking at you huh? Well i would too, with how you look tonight," She laughed.

You snapped out of your thoughts. She had a point. He brought Haru yet couldn't stop looking at you. You didn't know the reason, but you could give him a reason right now. You suddenly grabbed Belle's hand, and bumped your cups together, downing the drink before dragging her to the dancefloor. You started slow, just swaying your hips to the beat, and when the song got more hype, you started incorporating your arms, trailing them down your body, making sure every curve was covered. Belle hyped you up, wooing at you and dancing along. She started doing the same, waving her body from side to side, her arms up in the air. You cheered her on. She then started body rolling to the beat of the music and encouraged you to join her. Your back towards her chest, you guys body rolled in sync without a care of who's watching. You looked at where Chan was sitting, and saw he still had his eyes on you. His fist on the armrest of the couch, knuckles white. His tongue poking his cheek seeing you dance sexily. Belle wasn't lying. You gave him a smile, and winked at him, continuing to lose yourself to the music.

Belle dancing got the attention of some guy at the party, she then started to dance with him. You continued to dance alone, soon getting tired and wanting another drink. You made your way out of the crowd, going to pour yourself another drink. As you approached the drinks, you felt a looming presence behind you, quickly shifted to your side. With your dazed gaze, you saw the black top and instantly knew who it was. You got him. You ignored him at first, continuing to pour yourself a drink. Chan did the same, before speaking to you.

"Y/N.."

"Well hi channie," You said, looking him up and down deliciously. There was no denying how handsome he looked in the costume. The police costume enhanced his dominant nature.

"You're breathtaking pretty girl," He sighed, looking at all the skin you were showing, with your cleavage peeking through your top.

"Careful with that mouth Chan, wouldn't want your girl to hear you say that to me," You snarked, however, your heart raced at the compliment. He has never said anything of that calibre to you.

His tongue poked his cheek again, a thing he did when he was frustrated. His calloused fingers landed on your waist, holding you tenderly despite how he was feeling. You smirked. This feeling was so familiar, you were so glad to have it back.

"Quite a performer are you?" He asked, his face getting even closer to yours.

"Had to give you a reason to be staring, no?" You teased, a hand stroking his large biceps.

"I don't need a reason, pretty girl..."

"Then i don't need a reason to be with you now, besides, you have your little criminal to attend to," You laughed, pushing him away, before rushing off back to the dance floor.

Chan groaned at your act. He thought he'd finally have you, forget Haru. But you ran off just like that.

You moved through the bodies and saw the black button up you knew so well, dancing with his friends. His white painted faced turned to you as you tapped his shoulder.

"Hyunnie, wanna dance?"

"Of course pretty,"

You lead him further into the dance floor, starting to dance to the music. Hyunjin followed, unbuttoning another button from his shirt, cooling him down and letting him move easier. He started to move with you, his hands landed on your waist from the back guiding you to move with him. You whined your hips, occasionally brushing against him, you smiled at the contact. You let yourself loose, whining and grinding against him. He couldn't hold it any longer and had to look at you. He took your hand and raised it, encouraging you to do a turn. You turned your body towards him, seeing his handsome face and his exposed chest begging to be marked up.

"I never knew a leopard could be so sexy," He said.

"I never wanted a vampire to bite me so bad," You blurted.

He smirked, a fang peeking through.

"Is that a challenge pretty? Want me to bite you like one?"

"Hmm, its up to you hyunnie, could mark me up in front of all these people, make me look pretty," You flirted into his ear, as youlooked off to the side to find Chan sat on a sofa Haru sat on his lap. She was giggling to whatever the other boys at the sofa were saying, but Chan paid no mind. All he saw was you, and how he wished your hands were on him instead of Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was a several drinks deep, so he easily pushed your hair away from your neck, tilting your head. He attached his mouth onto the bare skin. His lips leaving soft kisses on the area, and he started to suck and nip at the skin slowly, yet hard. You moaned lightly at the feeling, your neck was an erogenous zone, so it heightened your senses so much. You felt 2 fangs prod at the skin, and you gasped. He has his arm around your waist, and looks up to see his hyung staring right at him. The red that you painted on him was now painted on you. He detached his mouth, a light trail of saliva followed. He could feel the anger from Chan's intense gaze, and gave a cocky grin. He looked at the masterpiece he created, grinning to himself.

"So beautiful.." He said softly.

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment. Feeling a wave of confidence after the compliment, you pulled him towards a nearby couch. He sat down, and you sat down next to him, a hand on your thigh as you both maintained the tension. Earned It by The Weeknd started playing, and you got up, having the perfect plan.

You make it look like it's magic

You sauntered your hips to the beat, your back a few feet away from Hyunjin. His legs spread wide, almost calling you. Chan sat directly opposite you two, Haru still on his lap. He stared you down hungrily.

But I see nobody, nobody but you

You mouthed the lyrics, staring right into Chan's predator eyes. You then turned back towards Hyunjin, walking towards him, giving the same show to Chan now. He had a full view of your ass barely covered by the miniskirt.

I'm never confused, Hey Hey I'm so used to being used

You straddled Hyunjins lap, he naturally placed his hands on your waist. You started to grind slowly against him, he could not focus on anything else but you. You felt his cock through his pants, it was semi-hard under you.

So I love when you call unexpected, cause i hate when the moment's expected.

You got up, and sat on his lap, your skin rubbed against the tight pants he wore, feeling every part of his thigh and groin.

So I'ma care for you, you, you

The speakers sang, as you grinded your ass into him, swaying side to side to the song. Your body gave attention to Hyunjin, but your eyes entirely looking at Chan. His gaze followed your every move, he clenched his fists up, controlling himself. You felt a hand on the curve of your back, and leaned into the touch. Your hands rubbed Hyunjins thighs up and down. You felt something poking you as you grinded into his clothed cock. Hyunjin pulled you even further into him, creating delicious friction to relieve him. Hyunjin was enjoying the entire show you put on for him, his ego grew and grew realising you gave him what his hyung wanted so badly. Jokes on him for bringing another girl here other than you. He tapped you, you turned around. He pulled you into his lap once more, now your legs straddled his left thigh, an arm around your waist.

"God Y/N...You're making me fucking crazy. Mark me up will you pretty?"

You happily obliged, planting a kiss on his cheek that left a mark. You moved down, planting soft kisses on his neck. You felt the skin of his neck vibrate as he hummed at the feeling. You reached his chest, and kissed and sucked near his collabone. You continued to do the same to wherever you could find skin, leaving your lip print all over him. Pulling away, you admired the masterpiece you made of him, and pulled out your phone to take a picture. Showing him, he laughed and pulled you closer with one arm, your arm around his neck.

"Hm pretty, making me an artpiece yeah? Wanna show everyone that I'm yours?" He said, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You giggled softly. Leaning into him. The closeness and tension that never stopped was too much for you to even handle any more. Your faces so near each other, he stared at your lips with such want. You made the decision for him, your lips meeting his for the first time. His soft lips melted into yours, he opened his lips slightly and continued to kiss you gently. His hands roamed your body, and you placed a hand on his chest. You opened your mouth wider, allowing him to kiss you deeper. At the moment, it felt like it was just you two there, never mind the music and the many people around you. You pulled away from him, looking at his pretty face now with messed-up lipstick. You had to have him, to finally let go of it all.

Leaning into Hyunjin's ear, you whispered to him, "Hyunnie...wanna go home? I think we gave them enough of a show," You suggested, your breath on him made him shudder. He couldn't contain it either.

He nodded. In an instant, he let you stand up, him following along. You went to say goodbye to Belle and the boys, passing by Chan but paying no mind. You could feel his head turn as you two walked away from the crowd and to the front door. He sighed, seeing the image of Hyunjin's arm around your waist and the way yours and Hyunjin's lipstick were messed up, remnants of each other's makeup evident. There was no question what you would do back home.

[silvaurum]

yall are clearly having two+ very different conversations. op is correct tho. it is extremely fucking irritating to tell someone 'hey that hurt me' or 'hey that hurts people' and for them to respond 'how dare you say i'm capable of hurting people?!?!'

yeah 'oppressor' is loaded and has moral weight, because oppression holds moral weight, because oppression, the structural force, is bad. and generally people who are trying to say 'hey that hurt me' are not going to call you an oppressor directly, but even if they do, maybe address the hurt first and complain about the exact wording later.

there IS a conversation you could have about language here. 'part of a class that reaps privileges from the existing structure of society, whether they want to have those privileges or not' -> 'part of a class that has structural power over another class, whether they want to or not' -> 'part of a class that oppresses another class' -> 'oppressor class'. these are all equivalent in literal meaning, but feel very different. it gets condensed for efficiency and loses some nuance.

and then yes people are going to react defensively when they feel you've implied they are inherently oppressive and immoral. sure. i wish people would take a deep breath when that happens so they could stop taking statements about our current social positions as an inherent personal fault, because it's all arbitrary, no one chose whether we were born into a class like "in the global north".

the main issue is that it's a pain in the fucking ass to tiptoe around the structure of society and word everything perfectly delicately when I've just been hurt in a very predictable way and am reacting "ow! hey!"

that is also the entire issue with 'guilt' when we talk about oppression. it's not that guilt is a "bad" feeling that you shouldn't feel 🙄. it's that your reaction to your feeling guilty is not always helpful in the specific moment when you're being told you hurt someone. it's fucking irritating to tell someone 'hey that hurt me' and for them to respond 'oh my god im so sorry can i hate myself for you? i'm so terrible let me tell everyone how terrible i am' and take up all the air in the room with a self-hate spiral, so that regardless the original issue of you getting hurt is now minimized.

it's okay to feel guilty, it's totally neutral. it's the actions of public self hatred which turns the focus away from fixing the problem. soothing the feelings of the person who has benefited from an oppressive social structure, even without their consent, still matters… but it should come well after helping the people who are still being hurt by that structure and would like it to be acknowledged.

and thus op. i wish we could collectively stop taking it personally for five seconds when someone says "ow! hey!" so we can say "oh sorry, that was wrong, i'll be more careful".

+ taking the definition of oppressor class from colloquial twitter-ese is silly, man. its not even 'shallow' analysis it's looking at the name of a theory and extrapolating from there. these people think gaslighting is when you disagree about what happened + people who are oppressed talking amongst themselves are not going to word everything in perfectly neutral political theory terms, especially when we're either being hurt or trying to heal from being hurt + 'socialized male' person does not have any serious political analysis to offer, this is just a terf throwing words at the wall + "Oppressors can cry until next week, choke, or burn in hell for all I’ll ever care." this is not directed at you and it is not a literal political stance that anyone genuinely has. this is an expression of frustration. you taking it literally and personally looks ridiculous. this is a hammer car explosion post

lot of people take the idea they might be an oppressor like it's some kind of curse or marks them or makes them fundamentally irredeemable.

this means whenever someone suggests they might have structural power over some group, rather than being normal about it and going "oh yeah i should be mindful of how i act so i don't abuse that," they take it as a personal attack, and either jump to defending themselves by denying it, or start lashing out.

this makes 99.99999% of all conversations on this website completely fucking unbearable.

[noircheols]

🪓୨୧ — THE MONSTER AND ME . . . ♡

synopsis. scenarios of seventeen and their monster!s/o

genre. fluff, established relationship, horror (ish) prns. they/them cw. NOT PROOF-READ, gore (duh), death, being murdered (decapitation, fire), the ring movie reference, I PERCHANCE HAVE APPROPRIATED WITCHCRAFT IM SO SORRY TO ANY WHO PRACTICE, pet names (sweetheart), toxic relationships, cheating, allusions to suicide, GROSS!!!! in a sappy way

an. happy (belated) halloween!! I COULDNT COMPLETE THIS SMH CUS I HAD MEETINGS FOR A WHOLE WEEK

THE VAMPIRE. ⸺ seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, seungkwan, chan

he thinks it's cute; your love of fashion. how every outfit you manage to coordinate is always so emblematic of your personality and the long life you have led.

"where's this one from?" he asks, gingerly twiddling the cool metal of the necklace dripping just below your chest. he could pretend all he wanted, but 400 years of living didn't fail you when it came to hearing the surge of blood pumping through his heart. and it certainly didn't help that he was slightly blushing. it makes you happy to know that even after three years of living together, you still had that impact on him.

"this one's from 1894!" you moved closer to him, wanting to feel his warm skin against your cold flesh. "long story short this random guy who stole from the nearby village came to my cabin to hide but i kinda-sorta-maybe decapitated him!!"

"that's nice sweetheart WAIT WHAT"

he also thinks it's cute how desperate you are for cuddles. he is more than aware that you love the sound of blood flowing and how much you love being pressed into him, because it meant you could hear it up close. he knows it has nothing to do with you viewing him as your next meal, but the reassurance that he was still alive. he was not gone yet, like all the others in your life. he knows you would never dare to go as far as graze your teeth against his skin. although... he wishes you would. what? he goes crazy for your teeth poking out every single time you smile. why else do you think he puts so much effort into being funny?

the most cute thing about you though? when you pout over pictures. what's the point of mirrors and phones if you can't see if you look good or not? if you can't record the most precious moments of your long life? how are you supposed to know if purple is your colour? but he simply laughs when he hears your complaints, kissing you deeply and telling you "you are everything i could ever have wished for."

THE GHOST. ⸺ jun, wonwoo, minghao, vernon

he knew something was wrong with his house the day he moved in. when the wires were still intact, the TV kept switching from his desired great british bake-off to the deluded brain-rotted show that was dance moms. what? can you blame a guy for wanting to see what they had in store for patisserie week? it only got worse from then on. he knew he had reached the boiling point when he had left for groceries, only for the magnets to be arranged ever so crudely.

TV

sorry, but he didn't have the budget to buy more magnets. in this economy too? whatever, maybe mindlessly scrolling through netflix would give him purpose. as he settled himself into his couch once more, he noticed another set of eyes. big, doe-like eyes, but haunting. his imagination, right?

another click, and he noticed an elbow tear through the screen, slightly distorting the actor's face. he wished he had the strength to get up from his seat, but something about you was pinning him there. you were like a predator staking out its prey, the way you focussed on him. but good lord you were hotter than anybody else alive. maybe everybody else unalive too. he knows now that he doesn't regret sitting there. legs began unravelling themselves as you slithered out the TV screen, crawling on all fours. you stood up as you unfurled your hand towards his chest, he braced himself, hands digging deep into the sofa. his eyes still remained trained on you. was it right to think you are attractive?

"chill out, i'm a ghost." you smoothly responded, trying to hide your smirk from the startled man sitting in front of you. "although... you don't seem too scared of me. what are you? are you also a ghost?" you mused, floating just enough to try and touch his hair. it looks so soft, you mused to yourself. when's the last time you played with somebody's hair again? he yelped a little, shutting his eyes for what was about to happen. to your disappointment, your hand went right through his head.

"so you're the one messing around with my TV- putting on all those trashy 2000s reality shows." he huffed, brushing himself off. weird. you put your hand threw his head but he doesn't feel anything.

"guilty as charged." you sighed, spinning around mid-air. you swirled around the man, fascinated by the newest tenant. "can you blame me for being nostalgic?" you explained how you had moved into this house with your then-boyfriend. things began to go sour and you never knew why. all you knew was that every single time he came home angry and slamming the door behind him, you knew it was time to turn on the TV and melt the world around you. soon enough you realized he was cheating on you, and when you confronted him about it, push came to shove. your last memories were the TV engulfed in flames, and you choking on smoke as the door quietly closed itself. "i used my ghost skills of manipulating electric currents for the first time by turning on the news and realizing that the police ruled my death as a suicide."

you have both developed a symbiotic relationship. he would let you watch your TV shows and re-introduce you to the joys of the mortal world, like reading books and making soup. he didn't banish you from your house, but looked after your every need (its shocking how many things ghosts need), and for the first time, loved.

as a ghost, you could touch whatever was important to you when you were alive. the TV, fruit tarts, and the magnets you would hang your to-do lists on. weirdly enough, you could touch your new roommate. "maybe i'm becoming super important to you." he teased. "would that make you feel weird?" you remarked, as you entwined your fingers among his. "no at all." he hummed, enjoying the way you traced the warm skin of his palm. peering up to look at him, you eagerly asked. "am i important to you, then?"

more than you could ever know.

THE WITCH. ⸺ jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, jihoon

as a witch, the burning of incense and candles were familiar spells, intended to expel bad energy. but right now, you need more than to expel bad energy. you needed a guarantee from the universe that the life you lead now would be like this forever. being a witch was isolating, devoting time to a continuous cycle of researching and perfecting non-stop. like being a phd candidate, only minus the glory of being called "doctor." normally, witches have familiars, or "animal friends" as disney would like to call them that substitute the regular human's need for friends. but you didn't have one of those either. it was why it was such a blessing when he had entered your life by accident. all you remember is him asking for your number and the next thing you know you spent your days lounging in his studio apartment, with the coffee table scattered with copies of old esoteric spells from a bygone time.

as you heard the apartment entrance creak open, you knew your beloved was back. likewise, he knew you were doing well. the smell of cinnamon burning was comforting to him because it meant you were at your best condition and continuously experimenting with new spells. it was your way of saying "i've been thinking about you." that you spent hours concocting the best spells to guarantee your and his eternal happiness. it was an absured thought to him, for you to be slaving away when you already had what you wanted.

"i'm sure you don't need to worry, we're just fine without magic." he remarked, flopped onto the couch. he gazed into the kitchen, noticing you submerging a piece of paper in a bottle of water.

"have you ever thought that magic is what's keeping us together? and you're taking it for granted?"

"touche. but i still think-"

you could argue his spells were just as effective too, and that maybe he was a better witch than you could ever be. the way he brews your coffee just right in the morning, like an effective energy potion singing through you and keeping you awake. maybe that coffee also contains a love spell in it, because it makes you think about him non-stop. after all, the only reasonable explanation for the blooming feeling your chest had to be magic. "when will he come home?" "he's gonna be so excited when he figures out i made his favourite!" all those dumb, sappy, romantic thoughts plagued your mind. it's humiliating, but... maybe love is a force that not even the greatest of witches can control. wait- why did you catch him looking at your spells? did he take a peek at your notes?

@noircheols DO NOT RE-POST/COPY/TRANSLATE

[strab3rr]

(long story and no short sorry) GUYSSS I DID ITT

I INDUCED IT!!!!! I WAS PURE AS A FUCKING BABY

IDK WHAT TO SAY (ok enough w capslock)

i have so much to say and not a thing at da same time idk how

anyway i want to begin with thanking you @b4ddprincess bc youre the reason i realized why i started this thing. thank you for making my life better and make me realized what i need to do: nothing. (its same for you guys, all u have to do is nothing)

two fuckn years ago i said to myself that i need a better life, quiter life, less fight with everthing bc everything was so loud and not clear i was feeling lost like a child in the market, and i wanted to make things better for myself in every way, but the main idea of my reasons to wanting to get in the void was: making anxiety go and having better people in my life. but the ''voidlist'' just never stopped bc im kinda greedy(having the idea of controling on your life, the idea of that power makes you greedy. yes thats a thing) anyway the more i add to the list the more i feel like im movin away from my desires then i feel depressed bc ive overcomplicating it bc theres so many things to do but i dont do anything so nothing happend bc i was waiting to be someth happen. and then i started doing awkwardly silly things such as: void routines and challenges and (im embarrassed of this one bc i was too desperate) drinking water

youve read it correct drinking water.

i was sooo desperate for having those things id do anything to get them.

i am simple. i want what everyone wants🎀🎀🎀: shifting realities bc i have so many crush and i need them to be crush me in bed(for 2020 girlies)

being an academic weapon is so easy for me🎀(bc of the urge to make my family proud) +dream collage

being the girl that everyone gets along w(basic needs)

being the girl who is pretty not cute(trauma response)

glowing aura(cats loves people w glowing aura yes thats a thing too)

dream body n hair(bc i deserve this🎀)

healthy (girlyfriend)friends(basic needs)

and of course him, my sp(i cant tell wich one at that time but i releived that its not him now, bc MY BELOVED CURRENT BF. guyss he is the one. dont u dare ask me how you know? i literally manifested him🎀)

then i realized i can have everything bc its my reality so why not add these:

new phone, +macbook air

dream apartment of my own

pinterest closet

lifa app for this reality

financially free-money(a lot. like really a lot)

knowing 4 languages like a native person(bc i want to be diplomat so bad) +sign language(its in general)

a little drama(its not gonna hurt anybody)

my parents being more lovable and away from me

every time i try to get in, either i was failing or falling

and im sick of it, sick of it so much i quit.(for a year)

then i go to the theraphy(ofc no im jk ilove being crazy)

one day i saw a post ss from tumblr about pure consciousness on pinterest and i was like whaat is thiiss. no mention of void so i thougt its a diffrent thing and i download the tumblr again and search everything abt it. and same excitement again after one year same thougts and same list popes up in my head. and i was like ok maybe this time itll happen.

still waiting to be someth happen so nothing happend, it was such a waste of time trying to get in while i was already be, i was already what i want to become. i was that girl that everyone gets along with but i couldnt even see bc i was too focused on wanting to be. but still tried every night and failed. and again tried-failed-quit circle bc.. have you ever met me🎀

4 month ago i saw the girl, iconic blogger and the goddess of my dreams, her @b4ddprincess thx again love u so much

a post pops in my fyp and i see the words ''pure consciousness'' i was like noo not again. and i was serious abt it i wasnt gonna read the whole thing but it attract me n i couldnt resist it so ive read it from the top to the bottom. and she got my interest so i stalked her page from the last and to the first post. it was quiet a beautiful journey for me. lasted like 3 days, the end of the 3rd day i was ''woaw it was this easy all along? u cant be serious.'' she was. i tried one last time, no breathing exercise, no ridiculous routines and no waiting something to be happen. it was just me being real me chilling out asf.

and it was this easy and it should be this easy bc being your 4d self is being nothing also being everything at the same time. if u wanna be everything you should be nothing first(as wizardliz saying: drop the old story, leave the victimhood, for being better stop being bitter etc.)u should make a space for everything first and then u can be everything.

for being 4d self of yours stop being your3dself.

sooo long story (no)short i am writing this from my mac in my new apartment(in middle of the night bc i couldnt sleep and then one tumblr notification reminded me i have a success story to share too) and my phone buzzing two minutes a time bc of my friends while im writing this, so if theres anything wrong ignore it pls.

oh u asking my bf how cute, hes sleepin in my bed now, exhausted from the work n school balance.

YWS SCHOOL!! im in my dream collage and im going to be in paris for a week. i deserve a vacation i guess(its for another conference), i kinda hate french men bc theyre so mansplaning(not like how i imagined, its hard to be friends w them)girls are cute but i feel like theyre aware im not permanent there so we just con buddies still cute and hepful for this foreigner.

and i canceled the lifa app thingy bc i can be my purest consciousness anytime i want, so i am my lifa app.

and thx to 4 languages i make a lot of money and that brings us to the pinterest closet, yesterday i realiased that. theyre not comes to me w an imaginary way like i imagined! i go outside for shopping casually and theyre there luckily i have enough money to buy them.

and my family theyre living in our hometown now so as i want it to be, we are away from eachother.

and the most magical thing: SHIFTING REALITIESSS

i did 5 world before i met w my bf. it was such a wonderful experience. if you have doubts abt shifting you can go fuck urself

because sir i did it and i am very sure that dean winchester being my husband is not a daydream, fantasy nor lucid dreaming. believe it or not he kissed me GOD HE KİSSED ME(someone should stop me i have a bf)

is there anything i missed let me see.. cats i have 2 cats now and theyre adorable. glowing aura-check

the girl who is pretty not cute- check +make anxietygo-checkcheckcheck

dream body and hair- check and check

i wanna give u a info i didnt have all my desires by being my4dself

not directly actually. but i have them all. and thats the point.

im not trying to be a blogger but if you have any question abt anything, id be happy to help

now i need to upgrade things in my farm byeess

loves, siena.

[vyzz-undercover]

RAAAGHHG QUICK HOLD THIS!!!

[cato/f!ambassador]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(11,000ish words) (MAXED OUT SPACE LMFAO)

CONTENT WARNINGS:

•no dubcon (growth!!!)

•hints of size kink

•references to masturbation

•oral [f receiving]

•intercourse [M/F]

•discussions on contraception

•discussions on pregnancy

•breeding kink (finally someone admits it)

•mild violence [on reader]

•degrading language

•tumblr's horseshit concept of copy paste formating

———————————————————————————————————

WHATS UP???? IM ALIVE ENJOY THE FUCKING SHITSTORM OF CATO FINALLY ADMITTING HES A WIFE GUY BASICALLY!!!!! oh and here's the taglist ily all mwah mwah!!! @mothiir, @moodymisty, @bispecsual, @the-raven-lady, @thevoidscreams, @pluvio-tea, @lemon-russ, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams, @passionofthesith, @historitor-bookshelf, @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond, @ma1dmer, @scriberye, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @undeaddream, @beckyninja, @yestheantichrist, @sinistermojo, @vivacious-hyena, @grimdark-racoon!!!! if anyone wants on or off taglist lmk no pressure!!! enjoooooyyyy i love u alllllll :3

———————————————————————————————————

For all intents and purposes, everything is going swimmingly.

Cato is happier these days—and so are you, apparently.

So when he is called to the Command deck by his Primarch, he is somewhat unsure of what to make of the matter. Paranoia rises in his gullet like bile, but ever since the slip up in front of Guilliman, you've both been spotless.

Cato strides up the parapet and demagnetises the locking pins keeping his helm secure, tugging it off his head and letting it nest in the crook of his arm.

Slicking his hair into some semblance of order with a free hand, he sighs.

Ugh, he needs a haircut—it's starting to get in his eyes if he doesn't swipe it back. But he can't—because you seem to approve, and stubborn as he is, if keeping it this length means he receives dainty Ambassador fingers as a comb sometimes, then so be it.

It still pisses him off, though.

Regardless, Cato carries on his way—and the first face he sees upon entering the discussion area is the Chapter Master's, and two of his subordinate Victrix Guard hovering behind.

The Primarch's lesser-used vessel Dawn of Fire has been given to Calgar, and has been trailing behind the Macragge's Honour for a month and a half now; meaning the situation has granted a fair few more audiences than normal amongst them.

Nemus bows his head in unison with Lethro, the gesture familiar and practiced, while Calgar simply tips his chin down at him.

Cato reciprocates with a curt, martial bob and takes his place nearby his Primarch at the central control booth.

A few menials are fiddling with the specifications of the lithocast display before it flickers into life, the green-tinged projection juddering for a second before stabilising to a clear motion pict link.

Lo and behold, Severus Agemman's shiny bald head and pinched face.

The mere sight is enough to make Cato disinterested; and when he hears the First Captain speak his greetings to the Primarch, Cato abruptly considers himself deaf.

He turns away, looking aside, and finds you.

You're leaning on the railing of the raised observation deck while his Primarch gives feedback Cato doesn't heed.

You've dressed a little different than your usual ship-attire—clad in that same old blue robe but armed with a big navy shawl, and he suspects you've done so expecting the chill of the upper deck.

Cato's dark brow quirks as he gazes towards the high, arching, star-flecked windows. Throne, he feels like he's being hypnotised by the white shifting whorls—there is a humility to gazing up, every so often. A reminder of perspective. Cato has seen some objectively beautiful sights in the galaxy; stars and asteroids and planets untouched by Humanity, and Xenos, and Chaos alike; but none really compare to watching you stare up at the wide glass panels, absentmindedly connecting the dots between distant gas giants.

For a moment it feels like everything is unimportant.

He wants to stand beside you. Lean down and rest on the railing, and bask in the smile you'd shoot up at him.

He wants to ask which cluster of far off planets you think prettiest, perhaps if you recognise any—or if you'd like to see how the stars look glittering off the mighty oceans of his home-world—but it is not appropriate to behave that way with the current company, despite how it aches to deny himself the sentiment.

"No," Guilliman sharply answers a response Cato hadn't been listening to.

And only then does Cato realise himself, gaze and focus tearing back to reality and sticking to Guilliman's big, tired blue eyes, as he digresses, "No, no—the moment the Drukhari know we are onto them, they will butcher through the populace for sport—and the elites will cripple the dwarf planet to spite them. Farrim is a major port world, the set back of going off course, even temporarily, is worth the delay."

There are several billion inconsequential people on that rock. And all they have to thank for not being sentenced to slavery and death is the benefit of being close by.

The locale would surely not be high priority if not for the chance it is practically adjacent to Agemman, and he can simply scare off the assault with an extremely minor detour—and then obliterate the fleeing Xenos like chaff before the wind.

The only real problem is orchestrating how to go about it.

Bombard them into their base particles before they even get their hand in the jar? Or let them begin, and then close the trap to watch them squirm and suffer in it like salted leeches?

Cato knows he would chose the latter, but he's not about to dignify Severus with any sort of advice on such meagre matters.

Cato exists beyond the normal chain of discipline, as Commander of the Victrix Guard—which means felating Agemman is Sevastus Acheran's problem as Captain of the Second Company, now.

The planetary governance's reaction must be considered also—he knows of Farrim, vaguely. There are a series of vast docks in geosynchronous orbit, and that means they are host to all sorts of satellite criminal activities. It is surely a rat's nest rife with Rogue Traders returning from deep dives into hell; and that means heretical practices, like engaging in interspecies dealings; of tack, of weregild—of flesh.

Cato knows well the horrible desperation of the weak for some form of certitude in a galaxy run mad, even if the only certitude possible was that of complete degeneration. A greedy baseline would sell their kin to Xenos to eat another day. That is the reason for law. It is one of the reasons for Astartes. It is a basic truth. Because a cornered beast would sooner kill itself in the struggle of fleeing than face its pursuer—and humanity in masses are oft worse than if they were caged in a cramped pen with a starving Termagant.

But he hopes, beyond reason, that the moronic rulers that allowed the Drukhari so close would suffer far more than just the panic of the chase before succumbing to their vermin fear in such a way. Punishment would be harshly imposed, because treating with Xenos ever yielded foul results. Simply writhing in their own terror was not enough justice for their enactures, and Cato will gladly watch the meting out of greater judgement upon them soon.

Consequently, Cato had come to find almost all Aeldari are cunning, vapid, spineless rabid dogs. Naught but misery-merchants, worthless and parasitic enough to be slaughtered en masse without hesitation.

The Lord Primarch did not wholly agree with this, of course. But he had his own reasons for such beliefs, after having met with them himself. He said there are, allegedly, good and bad ones amongst the lot—then he went on to say one should ever be considerate of their fey, mercurial motives.

Cato knows a knife-eared witch had implored much of Guilliman, and his father is nothing if not a good listener.

But Guilliman is also a master tactician, and is more human than most of the Imperium is led to believe.

At times, he behaves more human than his gene-sons—but his Father was reared well, so he says. And maybe that's why he insists on assessing the uncouth. Like hearing out dribbling Xenos hierophants, or keeping you as a pupil pet.

Cato believes the Primarch favours you, truly.

He has projected his meagre hope of a kinder future on your success, against all the impossible odds.

Guilliman is a brilliant leader, and an even better teacher.

He is just, and personable—but stern.

Cato is the opposite.

He bites, and he always has.

Martinet to his core, Cato is ever succinct; almost to a sociopathic degree at times. He's never truly understood how to speak with his Father's finesse. But he can mimic it. He knows the gist of what to say, and when to say it. Largely by predicting the next words. As an Astartes, he is not inherently made to be a statesman, even if he is the Grand Duke of Talassar.

Nevermind the fact a vast majority of political dissidents opponents would sooner grant themselves the Emperor's mercy than try argue policy with him, an Ultramarine. He knows he is sullen and bad-tempered and easily aggravated in casual conversation, even amongst his Brothers—but he's not about to admit things like that out loud; and where he once sought out discourse—he's become despondent reclusive compared to his previous confidence.

He swallows down the harsh reality that he knows the exact tipping point.

He tries to forget that Damnos was the first pebble before the rockslide; the agonising strike of a Necron lord's war-scythe in his side, not to mention the sting of Severus Agemman's proverbial sabaton up his ass.

And, most importantly, he ignores the hint of tinnitus in his ears. The echoing across the decks of the Emperor's Will that sound like screa—

You yawn, and look over your shoulder to Guilliman with a weary curiosity.

You are everything Cato isn't, and he knows that now.

Perhaps that is the real allure of you, in the end; beyond the aspects of his lust, and your own affections.

Sweet, endearing—trusting to a fault, and... small.

He almost snorts to himself at that because, Throne, you really do look tiny amongst so many ceramite clad trans-humans.

The Primarch flashes you a soft glance and directs his gaze back to the lithocast.

You approach Guilliman with a preppy, yet cautious sort of diligence; standing beside him not a moment later as he listens to Agemman prattle on, and on—and on.

Agemman doesn't acknowledge your entrance in the slightest, hell, he doesn't even blink. He doesn't know you by face—but Cato knows you know him; because in Guilliman's quest to have you absorb as much information as possible, you've interacted by writing many times. But the First Captain clearly wrongly assumes the woman in his holo-field of view is a lowly attendant, not the Ambassador he's had several dissertation-long discussions with by note.

You're looking up at Agemman with a soft smile, like one would reserve for a friend—and he does not return it.

Seemingly aware of the fact your gesture is for naut, your expression withers to a sad little frown.

At that, Cato's eyebrows furrows harshly, embittered by seeing you suffer the rejection.

He ought to—

But then a bundle of data-slates are lifted off the hexagonal interface surrounding the projection system, held out to you in far, far larger gauntlets than Cato's own; and you take them into the cradle of your arms.

It's too many for you to comfortably hold, and Cato can tell solely because there's that familiar, tiny crease between your brows that only ever appears when you're unsure of something.

"I will be back en-route with the First as soon as the threat is cleared, and—" Agemman's raving wavers periodically, hologram gaze tilting down.

Cato winces a bit when the topmost slate slips out of your bundled arms and clatters to the deck loudly.

In response, the First Captain's hologram rakes you with a nigh appalled sneer that has Cato puffing up at the hackles like an angry carnodon.

"A-Apologies, my lords..." You shrink back, seeking an exit, in that frightened-mouse way of yours that Cato would've once delighted in long ago. But it's a grating, bastardised comparison when he knows Agemman's disgust is entirely, baselessly genuine unlike Cato's had been.

Another slate falls in your timid outburst, and Agemman snorts angrily at you.

More than willing to take the heat, Cato immediately steps forward into the threshold of the holo-cast's vision breadth and snorts back.

It's a standoffish moment where the First Captain becomes aware of him and turns his head.

"Cato," Agemman says sharply in that typical, dismissive tone; but his expression betrays a brooding aggravation.

He scowls, lips curling much like his fingers into a fist, "Severus."

He can play this game, because unlike prior altercations—he's not being held to a rapport of failure.

Cato answers to Calgar and Guilliman now, and yes, he's to heed Agemman—but he's not to abide orders like he'd had to during his Captaincy of the Second.

And neither Calgar nor Guilliman have stopped him as of yet for this outburst.

In fact, Calgar is apparently more interested in trying to rub away a speck of grime on his power-fist.

While the Primarch... well, the Primarch has currently shut his eyes, grimacing softly.

It appears Cato's simply keeping the peace.

And on the surface, to onlookers, it's not at all indicative of any ulterior reason aside from petty distaste for Agemman—even if Cato's real motive is possessive defensive, and solely intent on taking the attention off you.

"Enough," The Primarch grumbles at last, and opens his eyes as he leans down—his great height folding—dutifully collecting the two, small fallen objects with mild hassle. Guilliman sighs at you remorsefully as he sets the data-slates in a better position, unperturbed by your clumsiness. "The Ambassador has done me no insult, she was merely over encumbered. The galaxy as we know it has not imploded, as of yet."

Agemman blinks, "...Ambassador?" he mumbles—with the revelation, in a fraction of a second he's entirely placid and defanged, reigning himself back in and cringing slightly—unlike Cato, who returns to glaring murderously at him.

"That means you, too," Guilliman starts aloud, and he apparently knows he needn't clarify more.

Cato grinds his teeth and tears his gaze away, letting it fall aside as he unclenches his fists.

You take a step back, a pitiful sigh leaving you as you set about trying to balance with the data-slates. The Primarch finally realises that it's too much for you, just like Cato had to begin with.

"Sicarius," Guilliman says flatly, "Give her a hand."

A hand?

Oh, he's given you more than hand.

He feels himself bristle with want, an abrupt , mad rush of eager heat besieging his body as he sets his shoulders stubbornly.

In or out of armour, he's done it—and Cato is caught daft at the sudden eidetic memory of having you straining against his big forebrace shoved hard under you to keep you in place. Squirming frantically against as many fingers as he would deign allow you, drooling on his armour as you suffer a cleverly turned thumb; so wanton and pretty as you finally, finally give him his prize and cry out for—no—no, no—shut up, shut up.

At that, he tersely inhales; and remembers he's surrounded by other Astartes.

Nobody's noticed, thank fuck.

"Cato!" Guilliman snaps.

Cato blinks, "What—uh, pardon me, my lord?"

"You are utterly impossible," he half-chastises, half-laments, with little more than a sigh. "Help. Her."

Cato nods stiffly, silently panicking, and approaches you.

"Stop snivelling like a useless dog, and pull it together, woman, you're embarrassing yourself," he accosts loudly, overcompensating for his own screw-up, and it's cruel—he knows it is because you flinch a little, and one of the gathered high-ranking brothers behind you huffs in surprise at just how brutish he's acting—but he cannot show the comfort you wish of him under the circumstances.

You regard him with a profound sadness in your eyes, and he can't bear to meet your gaze; so he casts it aside.

And immediately meets the Primarch's eyes.

A strange, angered confusion has graced his Father's features. A sort of stunned disappointment—and Cato supposes that tracks, given the fact Guilliman though he'd gotten over his gripe with you.

"Check your anger, Commander Sicarius." Guilliman says with a cold discontent, and Cato immediately drops the act.

Cato holds out his helm, turned plume-down, the inside proffered up as a bucket.

The task of shovelling the data-slates in is tedious at best, but it's easy when he joins in.

When all's done, Cato practically dumps his helmet in your arms.

"It's alright, don't fret," Guilliman chuffs, smiling at you tiredly, trying to seem supportive. "Just be on your way, Ambassador."

You look back at the Primarch, stunned for a moment—who smiles at you again, and tips his chin to the exit hallway.

Nodding, you shakily curtsy at the gaggle of Astartes and stumble away with the heavy weight of Cato's helmet and it's new contents in your grasp.

Cato frowns at the entire display, and Guilliman seems to notice that too, because he immediately grits out, "Commander Sicarius, if the safety of your helmet worries you so, go make sure she doesn't drop anything else."

"Of course... yes, my Lord Primarch," He straightens up, surprised at the dismissal but certainly not about to argue.

in his mind, Guilliman is sending him to cool off. That much Cato is sure of, which works to his favour.

Promptly, he knocks his breastplate in respectful farewell and trails after you; now a little ways down the grand and lofty adjoining chamber hall.

Cato strides with his chin held high, but promptly drops it when he rounds the corner and is out of view of the Primarch a few moments after you.

You say nothing to him when Cato catches up and matches your slow march to your quarters.

Cato's practically drags his boots across the regal carpeting as he walks.

And when the carpet runs out, he scrapes his heels on steel like a petulant child.

He knows he's taken the charade too far.

Head hung low much like his, you don't look at him—and it eats away at what meagre actual backbone he's got left around you.

It continues for a while; you pass servitors, serfs, staff, and Astartes alike; not acknowledging anyone.

They acknowledge Cato of course, but he ignores any nods or salutes like he's got blinders on.

He knows the path you're taking well—it's a shortcut, but a tedious one with the load you're carrying. And when the passersby thin out to nothing eventually, you're still trudging along like a lobotomite.

You look appear much like a sullen little arming serf carrying his helmet as you are. The coarse broom-spread of his helm's Suzerain mane brushes the fabric atop your thighs—and Cato can tell it's annoying you, because you slow a little when it itches; trying to shimmy it up higher in your grasp to no avail.

Your breathing is heavy with strain, now a few paces behind him; and Cato groans when you both round a corner and he sees a flight of stairs ahead.

He pauses, and rounds about-face.

"Give it to me," he snaps.

You immediately sigh, "Why?"

"Because it's mine," Cato grumbles. "Now give it to me."

You pout, "I don't need help."

He scowls harshly, "I wasn't asking."

A gasp leaves you as you're suddenly being advanced on by an Astartes, stomping you down—and he catches the data-slate filled rim of his helmet with a gauntlet.

He's honestly surprised you hold on while he pulls it away from you.

"Let go," he hisses.

"No," you hiss back.

"Let go, now." Cato shakes the helmet around, trying to dislodge you; going so far as to lift it until you're dangling off the side.

"No," is all he receives again.

Tiny, stubborn, cunt of a waif.

He cannot sustain subtlety when he is rebutted on something. Not without pause. He's aggravated now, and it shows when he snarls, "Why are you acting like this?"

"No," you bark.

A very real temper is flaring as he says, "No, what? That's not an answer—"

"Fuck off, Cato!"

He's never heard that tone out of you directly. It stuns him for a second, because he's never actually made you genuinely angry. He can't explain why it makes him suddenly decide to play disciplinarian like you're an unruly Scout, but it does. And you're going to explain exactly why you thought to voice that opinion, Emperor help you.

"Enough of this groxshit," He tugs the helmet high, and you up with it, scooping a vambrace under your midsection to carry you like a keg under his arm; prying you and the helm apart.

"Put m-me down!" You kick out wildly behind him, snarling insults and slamming your fists back against his plate on his core, to no avail.

It's a good thing you're actually close to your quarters, because the scene you're making is more than enough to be flagged for gross insubordination if anyone saw. Striking an Astartes is of no meagre consequence. It'd be death, for anyone but you.

It takes him a try more than usual to input his locking override code, given your squirming—and him only being able to manage a pointer free on the hand holding his helm.

Your door slides open nonetheless, and Cato ducks in with you still secured, despite your tantrum; and in his seething, he fully calculates the effort it'd take to hog-tie you with your own robes.

You're hissing and carrying on as if you're a pissy little neophyte hopped up on stims for the first time, and Cato ignores you periodically to lock your door behind you both.

He empties his helm of the data-slates on the nearest pile of clothes, magnetises the bucket on his hip; and practically tosses you onto your bed.

You yelp at the rough handling and scramble to reach your nightstand.

Instead of scampering off like he honestly expects, you grab a book; and when he leans over the bed and reaches for you, you start to bat his armoured hand away with the hardcover front.

"Do you honestly think that will work?" Cato snarls, but despite himself, he recoils and starts eyeing you. "Are you that fucking dense, woman?"

You grumble sourly and hold the novel up, like it's an actual weapon.

"Fine, be that way," he rolls his eyes, and with trans-human speed, catches you by the ankle and reels you in.

You bleat out a warbling cry at being yanked, and manage to toss the book at his head in a lucky shot.

He cops the hit to the brow harmlessly, then it lands on the covers below him beside where he's dragged you under.

You freeze for a second as he brackets your arms upward above your head in one large gauntlet.

"Stop," he bites out, "Just stop struggling."

You start fighting him again regardless, legs kicking out—knocking the book sidelong into the headboard with a thud.

Cato glances at source of sound, and then he's suddenly fixated on the wall above it.

His dagger's been hung up.

It's a little crooked, but that's expected when the hooks the sheathe and blade are lodged against aren't actually drilled in place. It's done with adhesive—it's your doing.

Cato can't exactly name the feeling that washes over him as he stays staring at it, but it feels thick, and viscous in his chest. Like pain, almost—like he's hurt himself. His tongue feels leaden in his mouth. Every ounce of retaliatory anger at your earlier antics dissipates into nothingness.

The shackles his large mitt's made on your wrists falls away.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it," He mumbles, before taking a deep breath—and his armour creaks at the gesture; servos humming as he settles into a crouch at your bedside, half strewn over the duvet—staring at you pinned under him.

The bed protests, because of course it does to that amount of bulk, but it still holds regardless.

You huff sourly, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth as you avert your gaze.

With a tired sigh, Cato leans close to you and frowns—straining to tuck his nose against your neck and scoop a vambrace under you to hold you close.

"I may have," he starts slowly as he smothers himself against you. "Overreacted."

A scoff escapes you, but you rest your cheek to his temple regardless.

You take a big breath in; and the politician in you jumps out—even if the politician is currently a little bit shaky.

"I-I am aware that... it's tedious to have me around given my bearing, amongst your kind," you stammer, gaze flittering to and fro from his eyes to his pauldron to the desk behind him. "I can take a snort and a scoff, but you made it worse, at the end—" your voice trails off, and you sit up; scrubbing your cheek with your palm, fussing. "It's easy to hear criticism from a stranger, but not—not from you. Not after... all of this, in a situation like that."

There was a time when Cato would've flat out turned his nose up at the prospect of apologising. He has done so to maybe ten baselines in his entire life, and he's including his parents in that number purely by an assumption—and Vedeah.

"Even in the moment," he says carefully, and tries not to think too hard about the wider implications of doing so, "I realised it was a cruelty, and I am sorry for it."

You simply hold onto him for a moment, and Cato buries his face closer; your hand combing across the side of his head.

"It's alright," you tut softly, "Seeing y-you... you getting all huffy about the First Captain for me was funny though... Throne, I feel so stupid sending him all those letters now."

"You weren't to know Agemman's a prick," he sniffs, laying a gauntlet on your thigh. "I've been on the receiving end of his sour judgment just as you, earlier."

"Were..." you start, voice hesitant. "Were you like that, when you were Captain of the Second?"

The question catches him off guard, which makes him harrumph.

Cato sets his jaw and leans back to look at you, frowning softly, "You would not have liked me in the slightest."

You look a little taken aback at his admission, and Cato feels the need to clarify before your habit of asking too many questions seizes you.

"I was..." Cato begins abruptly, cringing, "...reckless, and a lot more vain; always seeking victories at any cost despite the odds," he says, begrudgingly explaining himself and feeling a lot like his own Primarch was simply speaking through him, "I probably would have petitioned to have you tried for the simple crime of... being, despite my actual... ahem—predilection."

You eye him for a moment, and there's a familiar warmth in your gaze despite the fact he just admitted, out loud, he'd have you put to death for the crime of stirring his cock in another set of circumstances.

"Why do you think that?" You ask, curious.

Cato raises a brow, "I would have painted you a Slaaneshi temptress, like I had thought originally."

"You thought that? Really? I hadn't even—" You scoff, looking at him with a quizzical little grimace.

The deadpan expression on his own face answers you before you can even get it all out.

"Okay," you groan. "Okay, I get it."

He gives your leg a squeeze, and pulls back.

"Good," he hums and moves to stand.

"Wait, Cato—stay," you mumble, "Please."

At full height in your cramped room, he furrows his brows, "I cannot remain here, not tonight, not in this."

You sit yourself on the edge of the bed and look up at him, and Cato's forced to peer over his gorget to catch the full extent of the pleading, doe-eyes you're putting into action.

Cato has to fight back a dopey smile at the insistent, honeyed look you grace him with as you stare up at him.

So pretty, even when you're playing at guilt-tripping him.

It's risky, and quite frankly his dumbest, most thinking-with-his-cock moment; but he still offers it.

"You could accompany me, instead?" He dithers, and eventually acquiesces.

Your head cocks to the side excitedly, "...to where?"

"My quarters," Cato says matter-of-factly.

You're suddenly up and scrambling off the bed to stand beside him, and he hands you his helmet off his hip. You take it without complaint nor reason, even though Cato'd been prepared to give you an excuse.

Oh, it's an alibi, oh, it's this—it's that—it's the simple fact you looked irresistible amusing carrying his helm.

He unlocks your door, and shuffles out—with you tailing him eagerly.

Laterally, it's not too far from his quarters, but it is tedious given the levels between; and it has to be done quickly—if not for the fact if others see they will gossip, he'd throw you over his shoulder like a dead-weight and break into a run. So you need to keep up with his rush, given you wanted to follow.

He hastens down the corridor, and up a flight, and you keep pace, surprisingly.

Your breathing is a little heavy, but Cato attributes that to you having just scaled a fair amount of stairs, for a baseline.

He lingers at the top, in the elevator bay; and you bumble up to him and take the spot behind him.

Cato activates the lift and sighs as it begins to grind it's ascent into existence.

He's stunned to have not heard a peep out of you yet, and honestly that—hold on—there's a hand on his rear, and small fingers depressing the bodysuit over his left glute.

"Get off of there," he snaps, "We are in public."

"I'm just leaning to catch my breath," You huff, squeezing him a little.

Fifteen minutes ago you were sulking and seething, and now you're straight back to bothering him for entertainment.

"Don't start," he sighs, and takes a step aside from you—desperate to not dignify the heat crawling up his neck.

"What will you do?" You scoff, and he all but whips around at your snarky tone, "Snort and sneer me to death? I just fought you off with a book."

Cato rolls his eyes.

"I can and will use things against you," he says, a slight hint of a growl trailing his words.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Such as?"

"I know how easy it is to render you docile and silent, as you ought to be," Cato scowls harshly, putting some finesse into appearing menacing.

It does not work.

"You think I'm some animal to be scruffed?" Your laugh is painfully endearing, but—but he's firm in his rapport. At least, he's trying to be firm. One part of him certainly is firm and hard... and straining against his inners—stop.

"Much the same, seeing as you would preoccupy a single hand at most," he grits out flatly, but his temper wavers when he realises his own statement's double meaning—his cheeks feel a little warm, and it aggravates him that he reacts so easily.

You raise an eyebrow, staring at him, "Just your hand?"

He fights the urge to pout at the sheer cheek of you, and the lurid smugness you're letting show so brazenly.

It's a common situation now: you say something erring on insult, smile a tad, and then the brain in his cock takes the reigns from the one in his head. He thought he was past swooning starting at your antics by now; or at least he hoped to have become a lot more immune to it.

But no—despite being the belligerent, bitter bastard he is, you still manage to ferret out a weak spot for yourself in his hearts.

"I ought to take you over my knee," he says so softly it's practically an oath to himself.

Nonetheless, you apparently catch it—and blink dumbly up at him for a few seconds; a slow, creeping flush steadily finding it's place on your cheeks as you swallow so hard he hears the cartilage in your throat click.

The lift comes to a halt, and he all but harries you off it.

Thankfully, it is standard rest hours for the Victrix; that is to say those who aren't bedded down are likely on jaunts elsewhere in the ship.

It's the perfect opportunity to sneak you inside, in short.

The grand, carpeted corridor is empty, and you ogle it; and it's likely your first time having been near higher standard Astartes accomodation.

"I'll be back—" He opens the door in a quick input of numerals and ushers you in swiftly before huffing; "Don't open for anyone, not even Guilliman."

You nod and step inside, looking back at him a little sheepishly with his helm held to your chest; as the sliding mechanism activates, clicks shut, and promptly dead-locks behind you—while he quickly thumbs in his security code.

He breaks into a sprint to the nearest armour chamber, which is thankfully on this level; if not an eight minute jog at Astartes speed.

At first, Cato asks the mechanicum disarming staff to show some haste in doffing him from his panoply of ceramite—but he quickly loses patience and growls at the serfs who try to drag out the whole ordeal with longwinded rights and sermons while the adepts' machines hex-key open his vambraces. Part of the ordeal ends, war-gear shed, and Cato practically hisses at the gathered attendants when he starts to wrestle out of his body-glove and they try to smear him with unguents. He does, however, allow them to administer local numbing agents and analgesics for the more tedious, biological matters of unlinking from his interfacing.

They hose him down instead of scrubbing him at least, and Cato's glad that someone in that Void-damned room is listening to him.

He hurriedly lathers his arms and legs, dipping a cupped palm back into the presented urn of warm, fragranced oil to cover his neck and underarms—and bending, creasing points, as is typical.

He feels a little wobbly as he puts his sandals on at the hasty loss of the armour's weight—and in that aforementioned hurry, he trips a little while he tugs his tunic over his head and knocks over the servitor, who then knocks over one of the serfs, who then knocks over the tech adept.

It's not Cato's finest moment, surely, but he's in about as much of a rush to get moving as an Astartes can be in a non-combat environment.

He doesn't stop, because he has better things to do—more specifically, he has you to do.

He makes his way down the long winding halls, sprinting between the gaps in onlookers eyelines, stop-starting, like a fool. But damn, if he isn't on a mission with the thought of you waiting on him hanging over his head.

"Sicarius," the Chapter Master's voice abruptly greets curtly.

Cato swallows a scream and takes a step backwards, immediately entering grappling stance.

The aging Primaris seems to realise he's genuinely surprised him and raises a grey brow.

Cato rights himself with a forced cough and stumbles a little, "Lord Calgar?"

A huge power fist comes to rest on his tunic'd shoulder to steady him, "I did not intend to shock, but there is something you must hear of," Calgar says, manoeuvring to allow space for him to walk beside.

Cato matches the broader strides of the Chapter Master, although with him being a Primaris and Cato out of his war-gear—it's a tad more effort than normally required given the size disparity.

Marneus Calgar is typically a man of few words when he's not seized by his passion for monologuing... but he certainly has plenty words when he has gossip.

"I have a suspicion," Calgar huffs.

Cato swallows the lump in his throat, playing along, "And I assume you're not at all responsible for that suspicion travelling to other ears."

"Of course," The Chapter Master shoots him a downward, sidelong glance with his good eye. And if Cato didn't know any better, he'd have been amiss to the glimmer of amusement there.

Abruptly, Calgar pauses in step and quietly remarks, "One of our brothers is aberrant."

The metaphorical leaden brick that hits Cato in the temple works in his favour, because it makes it seem like he's in disbelief rather than panic.

"Corruption?" He hisses, eyes narrowing.

Calgar's grey brows furrow as he shakes his head, "Aberrant, Cato—not chaos-tainted, insofar as I am aware."

"How?" Cato snaps, and again, his bemusement that Calgar didn't equate the two for some reason surely works in his favour, making it look like a sincerely shocked reaction—but the problem remains that he, personally, would equate them. Throne, there—there must be a reason he's acted on his urges, there must be something he can blame.

Calgar purses his thin lips and sighs, "I have on good reason to believe there is a sort of... fraternisation is occurring."

"Really?" Cato huffs, he's simultaneously stunned and horrified that this conversation is even happening. Because if Marneus doesn't think it's the work of the Warp's wiles, then it can't surely have just been his own love partiality for you—that damnable, incessant yearning to have you close, and warm, and tucked against his side.

"And by that," Calgar starts, "I mean that one of them is engaging in baser ventures."

He tries very hard not to laugh out of sheer mortification, and the mental pict of Calgar clutching a string of pearls like a senile ecclesiarch.

"Are you certain?" Cato says, despite the looming dread.

The Chapter Master nods stoically, "I chanced upon an area reeking of Astartes sweat and... intercourse."

When every word may damn you, it is better to say nothing at all. And Throne, he can't bring himself to speak regardless of the fact; because his balls are in his throat. Even if it sounds as though Calgar's largely oblivious to the truth that the Astartes is him—Cato Sicarius—and although he is partially thankful he's in the clear; if Calgar's got your room identified as the source, you're in the hot seat. Every facet of your little existence would be so over for you it's almost unfathomable. Even if you escape the judgement of the Legionnes, you would be hunted down by the Assassinorum, in and beyond any Imperial system; fuck, he's going to have to smuggle you—

"I was sequestered elsewhere urgently, and I did not chance where it was coming from," Calgar continues, "But I know it occurred somewhere in the northeastern apartments."

Cato fights for his life not to sputter out a relieved sigh and buckle at the knees, boneless on the floor.

The ventilation systems must have dispersed the smell, which would have thrown off Calgar's vomeronasal organ.

He rejects most aspects regarding godhood placed upon the Master of Mankind ever since his agonising jaunt in the Warp, and from his conversations with Guilliman—but surely the Emperor must have leaned over on His throne and pelted a holy, righteous wrench at Calgar's big nose that morning.

The Emperor protects, albeit when He comedically feels like it.

"I will keep an eye out for... un-sanctioned behaviours."

"Report them to me, or Guilliman, should you find anything—no chaplains," Calgar says at last, and comes to a halt in a fork in the hallway. "Nonetheless, keep your wits about you—I must get going."

Cato blinks as Calgar rounds on his big heel, "Another vox-haling?"

"No," he sighs. "A meeting, for the next six hours."

"With the planetary governor?"

"No," Calgar says again, face completely dead-pan like a corpse, "With my cot—and if anyone needs me, tell them to piss off unless Guilliman's dying. Again."

Then he shoots him that wry, amused side-eye once more and stomps off down the adjacent passage.

Cato stands stunned in the hall for a brief time, genuinely flabbergasted.

Then he's a trans-human on a mission, thundering down the corridor—his mind immediately concocting several protocols to prevent the previous situation occurring again.

Firstly, the instant he gets to his quarters, he's going to stuff his incense burner into the ventilator grate.

Sound won't be an issue, he knows his chambers are proofed—surely not because he's woken screaming in that room without anyone saying anything. But that's besides the point, because the only screaming that's to be happening is his final plan of action; namely that, lastly, he's going to slide into you and have you crying his name—

Cato doesn't even consciously remember arriving at his door, nor coding in his numerals and doing the same behind him; but he's certainly in the present when he sees you.

Something in his chest lurches to a halt at the sight of you tucked in his sheets, the thundering of his twin heartbeats slowing and easing to a lulled calm.

There's less candles in his room than yours, but what little of your hair that peaks from beneath the blanket is bathed in flickering, warm light when he approaches.

His helm's lying against you atop the thin cover, and you're snoring softly.

Cato nears, and—with nobody to judge him, including you, simply stares.

Throne, he could live this scene out every day of his life and never tire of it—but matters need attending before he can bask in the domesticity.

Dutifully, he grabs his incense holder and follows through with his plan of action.

He doesn't intend it, but he wakes you at some point while jamming the vent back into place; and you groan softly, rubbing your eyes as you stretch and sit up.

The sheets over you slip away as you do, and he daftly fixes his haze at the drowsy, stark-naked Ambassador in his bed.

"...Cato?"

He swallow the proverbial bolt round lodged in his throat and grunts.

"When..." you pause to yawn, "When did you get in?"

It takes him a second to register the question with how intensely he's focused on ogling your tits, but eventually "...a few minutes," leaves him as an answer.

You blink lazily and harrumph, then slump back—and he's sure it's intentional, because the way your body curves with the motion is almost like you're presenting yourself. The sheets are low on your hips—not low enough that he can really take an eyeful, but the temptation of it raw and syrupy in his mind. What he can see is the warm, soft skin of your navel and stomach offered up to his roving gaze like a hunk of meat. It's bait, and it's obvious, and he's a slavering, starved dog in that instant.

He sits himself on the edge of the thin mattress, kicking off his sandals—and leans over you, breathing controlled but fast.

He splays a palm on your side, dragging it up, tracing.

You fuss a little, wanting.

He manoeuvres himself atop you, and you pout, as your elbow digs into the mattress.

He can tell in some fey way you're about to comment on the state of his bed—or rather, the lack of a real bed. Well, maybe not fey, it's mere prediction given your habit of complaining. You've probably been stewing on making a remark about it the entire time you've been dicking around in here. There's no headboard, no duvet. It's closer to a big, thin cushion on a fold out, bolted to a hinge on the wall at the top end.

You grumble, "This is the worst bed I've ever actually lain on," and there it is—the nagging, the backtalk.

"My mattress on Talassar is far nicer," he hums, nosing into the crook of your neck and sighing contently.

Your voice is barely a mumble as you say, "Well, we're not on Talassar—that's for sure."

"We could be," Cato mouths against your skin as he ventures lower.

"What?" You sit up a little and displace him enough that you can meet his gaze, and your eyes lock onto his in a hasty, focused manner—then Cato feels translucent again. As if you can see him for everything he is: prideful and doltish, disgustingly predictable—you've got him eating out of your hand.

"We... we could go to Talassar," he blurts out, one of your breasts against his chin. Then he ducks lower—planting a kiss just above your bellybutton. His voice comes out muffled against your skin, swallowing thickly, cotton-mouthed. "I'm sure I could... find an excuse, logistically."

The look you're giving him is just as flushed as his own face feels.

Cato Sicarius, High Suzerain of Ultramar, babbling—once again. Reduced to an illiterate, juddering wreck. His Astartesian dignity, honour and status petering to nothing. You have him swooning, on the back foot. Earnest and vulnerable—Throne, it makes him hot under the proverbial collar.

Cato stalls for a second, pursing his lips before digressing, "I could... I could petition an excursion to Glaudor to Guilliman, and then... arrange docking at Perusia."

Why does he feel so heated talking about this? Why is he, a several hundred year old, trans-human killing machine, flustering saying these things out loud?

"I don't actually know much about Talassar, aside from—well, aside from Guilliman's assigned readings on the Void Tridents, really."

Cato huffs, "I am distantly related to their Lord Commodore, Theodro Vethrus."

"Really? Huh..." you squint, trying to parse out his expression, "So do you... like him?"

Cato nods, "He's competent."

"High praise from you," you laugh softly, and wriggle yourself down—closer to eye level with him. "So what w-would we do? On Talassar, I mean..."

He breaks eye contact and stares at your lips instead, rearing up from you a little, "Well, there's a large hinterland that's quite nice in spring when it's not raining... and my Ancestral seat, on the coast. People sometimes swim and such, there—"

"I've never actually swam at a beach, before."

Cato harrumphs, "Really?"

"Never," you pout.

He smiles softly, "That can be remedied."

From the higher rooms of his duchy's fortress, you can get a good look at the long isthmus that sometimes peaks out from afore the sea walls when the waves calm down bi-yearly.

It's nicer on the other side where it's too small of a cove to support vessels, where the submerged canyon redirects the immense tidal forces sidelong.

You can swim in the carved rock lap pool, like he used to.

Because he's not about to run into the waves with his Tempest Blade should one of Talassar's less hospitable locals swim under the marine nets.

That, and to hell with picking the sealant-putty out of his interfacing ports. The annoyance of that is almost as bad as to be without it, and chock full of sand at exposed nerve points. With that mental deliberation settled, he lays both palms flat to the mattress supporting him either side of your shoulders, and raises a brow when your hand touches his chest.

Absentmindedly, he weighs the pros and cons or giving you the leeway to continue groping; it feels nice—but there's an aspect of mischief to your eyes he finds suspicious.

You start squeezing at his pectoral, fingers bearing down; watching the dense muscle contort and bulge.

"You really ought to bind these," you hum abruptly.

He scowls down at you, "I am not binding my chest."

"Why not?" You retort.

Cato sniffs derisively, "They are not breasts."

"Riiiight..." You drawl, dragging out the word still pawing at his left pectoral. "In my professional opinion, they seem pretty breast-like to me."

"They are not. Fucking. Breasts," Cato snarls, enunciating himself sharply while puffing up.

"No need to get defensive," you trail off, eyebrow quirking up slyly; laying the faux-pas down heavily, purposefully trying to irritate him by nipping at his metaphorical heels. "It's just that—well, even though they're hairier, they do feel simi—"

"That's enough talking out of you," he says, and promptly seizes you by the chin with his mitt, closing your mouth with his hand and effectively silencing you.

But stifling you had not wiped the smug, leering smile off your face. Yes, he can fucking feel it, you little bitch.

"You aren't funny," he hisses.

You grunt at him, huffing and puffing through your nose as you attempt speech even though your maw is held shut.

"Don't say something stupid," Cato frowns, and loosens his hold enough for you to get a few words out.

"I'd wager you could lactate w-wuh—with—" you race to say, thrashing as he quickly manages to shut you back up with his palm.

Cato tries not to grumble at the fact you're wheezing hysterically through your nose.

"Every time I think you are above something, you find a way to sink lower."

In response, you start thrashing, writhing enough in his grip to get four single words out from between his big fingers, "Sink—i-into your–cl—uh–eavage—" you manage to sputter, laughing behind his hand.

"I'll sink into you in a moment, if you do not stop," Cato growls openly.

You go still almost immediately, and whine against his palm.

"Really," he sneers, flabbergasted as he pulls his hand away and raises a brow, "Are you getting off on this, you degenerate?"

The comment clearly also stirs something in you, because then you're swatting at his face—missing, yes—but the effort still infuriates Cato to no end.

He rears back in avoidance, still keeping you nice and muzzled by his palm, but you manage to clap a hand around his mouth.

You push at him and squirm, fussing.

Then he inhales.

It's a little surprising his nose finds your fingers smell of molasses, and that means slick—the lingering hormonal melody of 'please?' is so blatant it's almost pathetic.

Cato raises an eyebrow and moves his hand from your face to ensnare the one you have on his, keeping it close.

"Is that why you're being such a scathing bitch? You're just impatient?" He scoffs, purposefully trying to taunt as he sniffs them again, just to be sure—and then licks across the underside of your pointer and middle, "Were these not big enough to entertain you while I was gone?"

You whine, flushed red with embarrassment, and try to wretch your hand away pointlessly.

A belated snort escapes him and he gives you a long, judgemental glare, letting you boil in your own shame.

"Don't start," you huff, petulant.

Cato huffs darkly, "I didn't say anything."

You frown knowingly—and his head descends, lower and lower.

You're all too willing to let him arrange you near his face.

Sure, you wriggle and flush and grumble at him as he makes sure to make a dramatic gesture of the act, but you're eager—and he knows it.

With an Ambassador's plump cunt to his mouth, Cato can't complain. But you certainly try to, despite the juddering thighs squeezing fruitlessly against the sides of his head. It's hopeless to try to fend off an Astartes, especially like this.

"C-Cato, just—"

He rolls his tongue over your clit again and again, delighting in the blissful hormone feedback lighting up his brain and the sounds you're making adding to it.

Some part of him'd be content lapping at your swollen nerve for hours, until you're a boneless mewling wreck. Tormenting you, letting you beg for him while he just roils in the simple goal of getting you to your end a dozen or so times.

"Please, just f-fuck—" you sob, squirming as he laughs against your sex at how toothless your frustration is. "Fuck m-me, Cato, stop being a-a—"

He drags over your clit again and feels your hamstrings tense, a fresh surge of slick wetting his chin.

"I'm—I c-can't," a shuddering whine leaves you, desperate.

The air practically vents out of your lungs like you're winded as he sucks; until you're so terribly close, all he'll need to do is bottom out in you to make you cum.

And that's exactly what he does.

He organises your legs off his shoulders and about his mid section as quickly as he can manage and then—

"F-f—fuh—uck," You writhe, head thrown back while you squirm at the heavy press of him rocking inside you, making your breathing stutter for a second. It's the familiar, obscene view of watching the massive slab of cock press into a cunt that's almost too small for him. But given the fact you take it so well, who's Cato to deny you? You love it, and that's the real thrill. A surge of pleasure sends you bucking; legs moving mindlessly where they're hooked over his hips, but he keeps still, simply letting you suffer your end on the thick length of him—all the while enjoying the feeling of being stuffed in you the whole ordeal.

It's only a quick orgasm, but damn if it isn't a hell of a show.

You're panting deliriously, trembling on his cock; and Cato's about to start drooling at the tightness he's being treated to.

When you stop trembling around him, you fight to steady your breathing—huffing out; "I—I ought-t-ah... squeeze you o-out."

"You'd need a dozen Dreadnauts to drag me loose right about now," he snorts and tips his head close, nudging his temple to yours a second later before smirking proudly.

The heavy swell of his balls sit flush against your ass, and you arch up, scrambling to pull him down into an embrace.

The small hands on his back are a nice counterpoint, and he moans when your fingers glide up to his shoulder; trailing the side of his neck before cupping his cheek. You pet him against the slightly grown out grain of his stubble with a skrrch skrrch, and he hums contently—and when that little hand rises to his pet his hair, it's sublime.

Your touch shifts away and he grumbles.

"I didn't tell you... to stop, damn it."

"So you are enjoying y-yourself, hm?" You smile, cupping his jaw and petting slowly.

"I don't... don't know what you're talking about, woman," he lies, nigh beside himself; pressing his bulk against you while pawing and groping at whatever he can.

He'd try for one of your tits in his mouth if the angle he's currently reaming you out at didn't make it impossible.

You work kisses across the high point of his cheek and down the heated column of his throat; seemingly emboldened by the dulcet, appreciative hums and rumbles that escape from Cato the entire time.

Doused in affection like this, he struggles to form sentences, damn it all.

He lets his head rest close, assailed with honest desperation.

"But, I..." he starts quickly, feeling a weight in his chest. His brain wants him to finish with a whole other word he refuses to even think of; because even if he's itching to say that he—he loves adores you—he's too stubborn to say it without sufficient prodding; but there's an arrow of longing lodged in his gullet and thankfully it doesn't dare to leave his mouth. "But, I do enjoy... you."

The prettiest whine escapes you in answer, and the flutter your tight cunt around him proves that for once, he's somehow said the right thing.

You swallow thickly and dither for a second, genuinely flustered but still able to get the words out, "I-I enjoy you, too."

A heady rush of heat fans across his face as he tries to properly process the information. The road travels both ways, and everything is serene, he's happy—you're happy, and that's all he ever needs. The duty and the honour, and the courage, seem inconsequential to it all in that moment.

He turns and kisses you swiftly, before leering away.

You rear up trying to close the distance again, but then Cato finally thrusts—and your eyes swim in their sockets, thighs shaking, mouth open with the heady gasp that leaves you.

So he nears, and gives you the other kiss you were eager for.

It's far messier than the former; his big tongue sticking in, dragging across yours and stifling you, saliva smearing down your chin as Cato practically laps the moans out of your mouth.

When he arches back at last, you're flushed and red at the lips, fluttering your lashes at him; eyes falling half-lidded under his gaze.

"C-Cato, move," You whine, imploring, and there's another eager clench around him when he obligingly ruts forward.

Cato can see the lurid glee on your face as your focus shifts suddenly to the point you both meet. Folded under him, it's given you a perfect vantage of the slab-of-meat that is his cock absolutely jammed down to the base in your guts.

You shimmy a bit and moan, "M-More?"

The scoff that leaves him is disbelieving, but he's well aware you're goading him to really set about fucking you insensible.

"If I fucked you as hard as you liked, you'd be getting augmetic hips tomorrow," he snarks, punctuating his point my pushing forward a little, so he's jammed riiiight against the soft ring of your cervix.

A soft gasp is all the receives for a second before you're suddenly grinning, "You're n-not that big."

It's so blatantly a lie he doesn't even dignify it with an answer. Instead, he shifts back a hint so only a third of himself stays inside you, letting you grow irate at the denial.

"I w–uh-was joking, Cato... please, don't s-stop," You whimper mournfully, raising yourself a little in attempt to coax him to slam in... and suddenly, there's a small hand on his flank.

Cato ignores it, focused on getting some much needed humility out of your darling mouth; then the hand claws at his rump.

"Needy bitc—" His would-be snarky sentence cuts short as he jumps a little, surprised, and clenches his rear; causing him to buck forward, sinking down to the hilt in you.

The thrilled gasp you make is priceless, and the shivering heat around his cock is sublime—but damn you for using that instinctive muscle reaction on him—you clever little bitch.

"Stop grabbing my ass," he grumbles, scowling down at you.

A crooked smile graces your lust-dumb features before it contorts into a flushed keen—surely not because Cato grinds deep to wipe the smirk off your face.

"This ought to keep your hands busy," He chides, rearing back and reaching sidelong for his discarded helmet on the far side of his cot.

You eagerly take it into your embrace, and Cato's impulse control violently derails seeing your tits sandwiched to the side panel; the white and red plume brushing your cheek—and you looking up at him with wanton lust.

Oh, Throne of Terra—that looks...

Cato swallows the saliva that suddenly over-accumulates in his mouth.

It's lecherous, and a glaring hypocrisy to everything the Legiones Astartes stands for—but there's something painfully enthralling about the visual that riles him up to strain at the bit like a warhorse.

Throne, he wishes he could fuck you in full-plate; just to see you drip and squirm, the adamantine of his thigh plating against your tender rear—the gooseflesh cold ceramite earns out of you to contrast the big hot slide of him into you. If only there was a way to keep the comfort of familiar war-gear upon him and the bliss of your soft skin on his simultaneously.

But he's got more than one round in him, and you've signed the warrant to be fucked to hysterics with all your insufferable antics earlier, no matter how cute you're acting now.

He's not going to last long.

Not like this.

Not with you so painfully eager, and pretty, and warm, and sweet.

He can't help acting on the urge to absolutely plough into you like his life depends on spilling inside.

"Ca–ah—to, Cato, C-Cato—" you drool, eyes shut tightly, fingers white with the exertion of keeping a grip on his helm's respirator. Each time you cry out his name it's followed by the sticky plap-plap-plap of his balls against your rear, and it's enthralling feeling you twitch and cramp on his length in rhythm with each stroke.

"Aren't you such a good little fucktoy," Cato pants, grinning when you nod on instinct. "Holding an Astartes' helm for him... while taking his cock."

A strangled 'y-yes' escapes you, breath fogging condensation against the cold steel of his helm.

"Perfect," he grunts, "My perfect... little whore," gritting his teeth, "You'll let me fill you, won't you?"

Another gorgeous few bleated notes of 'yes, y-yes, yes' meet him in answer.

"You want it here?" Cato hisses, breathlessly punctuating himself with a grind, "That's it... that's what you want?"

And that comment apparently does you in at last.

The pathetic little sob that pairs along with your frantic nodding makes him salivate like a rabid dog.

Your thighs judder as he pulls back to slam in, fruitlessly trying to lock at the ankles around the wide span of his hips; vainly attempting to keep him still—squeezing tighter and tighter as he keeps driving home into you—and the feeling is ecstasy, much like the view. You're so red across the cheeks it's almost the same colour as his plume, and you're hugging his helmet close, making the sweetest hiccuped sobs of pleasure against it.

He grits his teeth at the tightness that rewards him for pushing you to finish, helpless to it doing the same. Rutting into you, filling the eager hole he's sheathed in.

Cato slumps forward, shivering; careful to not squish you and his helm beneath his bulk despite the daze of him emptying a load in you—keeping pace even when the stimuli becomes unbearably tender and your heels dig into his flanks.

Heaving, he halts at last after the pleasure begins to really hurt, and meets your hazy gaze with a long, content sigh.

"C-Cato," you start softly, and nose against his cheek.

"Yes?" He begins in an airy tone, looming close to your ear and letting his exhale taper off into a long, curious hum.

"Your helm's d-digging into my ribs..." you cringe, and he immediately lifts himself away with a strong hand and pulls his helmet away and to the side.

Redness in the vague outline of the ceramite is imprinted on the soft skin of your side and he tuts, hand tracing the minor injury.

Kneading the area a little, you start to squirm, and Cato's suddenly hyperaware he's still inside you; and looks down.

He's fucked your combined fluids into a frothing mess.

With an air of unimpressed amusement, you snort at the show he makes of pulling out—he grabs you with a mitt on the underside of each thigh, functionally spreading you as inch after thick inch drags free so slowly it's almost jarring just how much of him you fit. The flushed head of his cock pops out, dripping a final fat rope of cum across your vulva; and then your overfilled insides start leaking more.

"Still got the implant?" Cato queries, using his thumb to pull your labia aside and eye just how deep he's emptied into you.

"Yes," you snicker weakly, "Y-Yes, I do—why?"

"It's a simple question," he tuts.

"I know w-what you're really asking, Cato."

He raises an eyebrow, "It's got nothing to do with the fact you're hard to avoid finishing inside."

A laugh leaves you like a bark, "You've never tried to a-avoid it."

"You'd throw a fit," he shoots back, and shuffles over to lie beside you on his back.

With a disgruntled huff you retort, "H-How would you know?"

"I remember your opinion on a certain... 'theoretical hypothetical scenario' quite well," Cato says slowly, and prides at the flustered smile you fight to hide in his peripheral vision.

"I... I stand by that statement," you sigh, still half-smirking.

He pouts, "You do, do you?"

"Yes," you huff, "Because now there's the t-temptation of leave to a seaside paradise on the proviso of being gravid," you say pointedly, and roll onto your side to face him—worming closer until your cheek rests on his pectoral. "Which becomes more tempting by the minute."

"You lazy little shit, I never said you had to be pregnant to get there," he scoffs, grinning, sitting up and resting his back to the wall. "Besides, I can assure you Guilliman's homework will find you even on a barren death world."

"I'm sure I can come up with something," you say, glaring at him with a conspiratorial smile. "And what was that about me not having to be knocked up to get this vacation?"

"The stipulation is I'd have you squirming on my lap daily," Cato rumbles, eyeing you arranging yourself to settle atop him. "Hourly, even; and the side effect of that may very well be a procreational one—"

"Such an egalitarian bargain," You snicker softly, saddling yourself on his hips instead of remaining prone—lifting your legs, straining to splay yourself wide enough to let him slot between them. "You're a better statesman than I thought, Commander Sicarius."

He rumbles a smooth subvocal sound of assent, and the big palms on your hips slide to cup the flesh atop your thighs.

The simple feeling of your warm skin pressed to him, and he is panting softly through his nose already. You kiss him then, with a tender sigh—more a sweet thing than a desperate scramble.

Cato stares when you pull away, keen eyes lingering on your own as you look up at him.

Something about that look plays havoc with his mind, and your next words double down on the heat in his blood, "Does the Grand Duke want for heirs so badly?"

"Fuck, yes—well, no—but... should one of your gene-stock occur by chance, who am I to object," he jumbles his words a tad when you reach down to hold his cock straight.

Throne, he wants it; he really does. Even if it's more likely considered a luxury well beyond anything he deserves, he wants you beside him in whatever way, shape, or form you'll allow.

"So," you snort, and the thick head of his length catches at the rim of your still-dripping cunt, "I'm to be an infant factorum?"

"Duchess," he groans, bristling at your soft lips against his cheek in unison with you sinking down, down, down to the hilt on him. "You're to be... a Grand Duchess, moron."

The languid sigh you make when he's buried in you is so content he's genuinely giddy as you ask, "I-Is that so, Cato?"

"You're going to adore every second of it," Cato rumbles softly, palming your ass. "Spoiled little heifer, that you are."

You make a strangled sound at the harsh grope of your rear and smile against his jaw, "...what's a heifer?"

"A female bovine that's never calved," he expects a slap for that—and yet it never comes.

You lean away, looking deeply unimpressed, and he sulks a little because it's not the reaction he was after. But it's a reaction nonetheless.

"Why do you, as an A-Astartes, even know that?"

"When Guilliman's mood ebbs to a trough, he lectures me on farming techniques," he says offhandedly, "He does so for hours."

Cato feels strange talking of his Father, the Lord Primarch, when his balls are currently smooshed against your perineum and his cock is playing whack-a-mole with your cervix.

"Would t-that make you a male bovine, then?"

Cato considers for a second before arching close to drag his tongue across your throat, grinning.

"So this i-is a breeding attempt b-by you?" You laugh with a daft, pleasured sort of delight and lift yourself a little, fucking yourself on him at your leisure.

"Yes," Cato pants, and rolls his hips upward—meeting you in the middle.

The contact makes a lewd plap along with a mixed combination of his moan and yours.

"W-Well," you sigh, "You're really trying—ah—aren't y-you, Cato?"

"For once," he rasps, mouthing a nice big bruise onto the soft skin on the side of your neck, "Keep talking."

"S-So, how m-many do—" you start meekly, stuttering a little with hesitation; your mouth to his ear. "How many do y-you want?"

The question makes Cato's head spin.

A sound that he can only assume is a braying moan escapes his gullet, because all his focus is cross-haired on the implication you've just given him on a platter.

"You're... you're going to get that implant removed next cycle," Cato pants, raring. "And," he bites out as he struggles not to just give in to the moan trapped in his throat and forsake words altogether. "You'll let me... let me breed this eager cunt of yours, won't you?"

The shaky gasp that leaves you in answer is divine, and Throne, aren't you the perfect little wife whore.

Then you nod, and that fucked-out smile is the most gorgeous thing Cato's ever seen.

It's conjecture, it's fantasy. Because Guilliman's going to skin him if anything like that ever gains actuality—and he may still very well be chemically sterile, after all of this; but it feels right to indulge in that impossible want at this instant. He'd take you as a bride, by the sea—in the high courtyards that look down at the great harbour. He'd have his pretty little wife, maybe a dozen bairns as stubborn as himself and as insufferable as you—and everything'd be perfect. He doubts you'd allow that many, but it's a discussion point. He'll barter—hell, who's he kidding. He'll take anything, even if it's just the two of you.

Whatever you'd ask he'd give; because in the end, he'd enjoy nothing more than to have you with him—and whatever boon might come from that conjunction—something made out of love, that he's not supposed to have.

He takes a firm hold of your hips on either side and bounces you, managing to steal a kiss on the up-lift and ripping a moan out of you on the down-pull—again and again; until you're squirming, slumping forward, squeezing on his cock as you're forced into a racketing orgasm.

Overwhelmed, you all but squeal, scrambling at the wide expanse of his shoulders in an effort to lock him closer, clawing at his deltoids.

It's the last push he needs.

Cato empties his balls right where you want it, groaning and heaving in desperate gulps of air as he slumps back against the wall; dragging you with him.

Your head rests limply against his shoulder and you wriggle, overstuffed—taking every drop.

He grits his teeth as each shudder milks him dry, arcs of pleasure lighting up his nerves.

It leaves him huffing and puffing into your nape, grumbling to himself.

"Perfect," he whispers, nuzzling against your neck. He can feel the sticky heat of his cum dripping out of you and onto his thighs and balls.

Cato supposes if this is what de-facto baseline marriage is like, it's not half bad.

[zyafics]

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

 “You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you. You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.” For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours.  A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.   "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—” “And what?” you interrupted. “And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.” Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.” Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.” “You’re not coming in." He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 

None of it was a choice you should have to make. 

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah. 

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

 “You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 

Rafe. 

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 

“Put me down!” 

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 

 "Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much. 

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[gooperts-gunk]

post-qsmp q!bbh's story so far...

back to back we have had new q!bbh story pieces, on mythcraft with lilithluvsya and as mr. x on arkanis, so im going to write down all of my own notes of what we have learned so far + my crazed theory talk :) this will be long!!! note: this is from the perspective of someone who doesn't know mythcraft lore and the only arkanis lore i know is from what i pick up in passing lol. i will do my best!!

starting with the halloween special on mythcraft with lilith and rurus in which bbh helps lilith solve a puzzle that leads to her finding and adopting a new child, we get to see an actual bbh summoning!! im unsure if the treats are a necessary offering or just a kind gesture, but the soulfire-esque flames or wisps seem to be a very specific detail...

the chant lilith says is "hear these words, hear my cry, spirit from the other side! come to me, i summon thee, cross now the great divide!" implying that if he's summoned, chances are, he was in the underworld or somewhere else. later on during technical difficulties, lilith mentions that "i don't even know the state of his soul at the moment! because usually whenever i summon a chant through those words," she repeats it, "his soul just acted a bit... weird! he usually doesn't act like that whenever i summon him. usually, the magic feels a bit more smooth, and it was very choppy this time. his soul just felt different from the last time i saw him. i can't put my finger on it." it's hard to say what exactly this means, (i've seen some people think it's about how he died with a split soul, he never got the other half back from purgatory as far as we know...) as we've never seen him be summoned before, but in this case, he just showed up on the chest crying out a confused "HELLO...?" but later on says "i could sense something was off, that's why im here." with his trickster confidence. he also mentions he's "been around, doing my thing. im very busy," and no concrete answer is ever stated. another detail is that halloween is said by lilith to be "the veils between our world meet once a year," meaning as far as we know he can only be summoned on halloween.

when he accepts the treats and attempts to leave he says "im trying to get back home!" a place of residence for q!bbh is implied, whether or not it's one we know of or even if it's an actual house is uncertain. when bad comes across a haunted house he says "oh my gosh! i had a house like this once, only it was red." which might cross out the place of residence being on the island. might, considering the house was later changed because most people hated the red lol. when bad is downed from fall damage lilith comments "why are you so fragile?! you're not usually, like, this breakable." bbh says "oh, as soon as i die, i get to go back home, so..." since we know how !bbh deaths work, (he can only perma-die once from a unique death, e.g. the combination of soul vulture infection and nuke radiation slowly ate away until perma-killing that version of himself, which means it was an entirely unique instance of death. so it's safe to assume that ever since he had fallen, he would have perma-died from simple things like starvation, but then can no longer perma-die from it again, with a possible exception of if it's starvation along with something else at the same time) we know that him dying wouldn't be enough to bring him 'back home' if it's implied to be the underworld or the mind desert, therefore, it would mean that if he dies during a summoning that the connection is immediately broken and he's back to wherever he was at the time. he's sometimes even excited whenever he gets downed, even saying "take me! take me home!" either because 1. he just really wants to get home for some reason or 2. he just really doesn't want to work for lilith.

but, we know he doesn't HAVE to work for lilith, because lilith states at the end after he's left to fellow mythcraft member nex that, "you know how im a witch? ... WELL... a long, LONG time ago... i made a mistake with my magic and i MIGHT have summoned a greater demon who turned out to be a TRICKSTER demon instead and KINDA reversed the contract on me and NOW im stuck with him until i die and i have to do his bidding whenever he comes around, but only whenever i create the first kind of contract for him to flip around. and he kind of... is around, and changes rurus a lot, and i have to work to make sure that rurus can transform back into a human one day because they're stuck in their bunny form..." which is a LOT to digest and she said it all in like two breaths lol. so in reality lilith is stuck with bad, not bad being stuck with lilith, and bad could peace out whenever he wanted because it's trickster demon rules and on top of that he can also transform humans into bunnies??!!

going back to where my previous notes were, when they arrive at rurus' house and bad seeing a painting of himself with 5 cracked eggs around him, he exclaims, "what the fudge is that?! THAT'S CRAZY!! who's the monster who made this??" meanwhile lilith is oblivious to whatever this means. he also steals the painting. rurus shows up! (rurus says he smells like sulfur, which is definitely the 'demon smell' ak!bagi mentions once she has a moment to speak with him after the chaos) rurus mentions making the painting and it was likely a gag that bad wasn't supposed to see during the lore stream but it's there now LOL and bad repeats the same horror to them as they're oblivious too, "it's you blowing up the moon! all the moons that you've blown up?" "oh, yeah, im sure it's blowing up the moon!!" he says in angry sarcasm, and then sobs a little. "i had eggs once..." both lilith and rurus inquire, and lilith is the one to say "you became a father?" in myth!lilith's defense, the residents have a lot of adorable baby creatures they care for and might sooner assume the eggs in question are cute creatures LOL "well i just said i had eggs, so..." "oh, you hatched them?" "ohhh he HAD eggs- lawren, he- he hit menopause, he said something about that..." I HEEHEE'D. idc if it's just a goof and not entirely canon im keeping it in here.

later on, when the trio complete the puzzles and find a well-decorated baby ghost named willow inside a willow tree, bbh's behavior to willow is very endearing and also straight-forward, casually offering some steak that he stole from rurus' house. he finds the way out of the tree for them by hearing a raccoon's chitter, and lilith comments "you're really good at talking to raccoons for some reason..." and rurus pokes further with "did you have a special relationship with a raccoon?" "yeah i- i speak raccoon." this of course is brought up from the perspective of both of them knowing his lore out of character and wanting to poke fun, but it's also a fun coincidence that it was a raccoon, as raccoons are very special to pomme. it starts storming, and rurus tells bad to give willow his hood but alternatively gives willow his soul lantern instead since his hood is a "...non-removable item...".

when they bring willow back to lilith's house, he continues stealing like he has been since he was summoned, but this time he takes a cookie from a cookie jar and passes one to willow before taking one for himself. when willow thanks him and says she loves cookies, he gives her another and says "you can never have too many cookies!" which would immediately make you think of his kids and their cookies, dapper especially as they're a total cookie fiend. as willow settles in he teaches willow the first and only lesson he's given to her so far: "whenever someone invites you into their home, you get to take whatever you want!!" he goes upstairs and shows himself and willow around lilith's house, rurus mentions a gaming chair, of which was a toilet. bad takes it and says, "i know someone who would love this!" which of course would be richas' gaming set-up that had a toilet for a chair because of a prank, if i remember correctly.

bad asks where his room is, making an assumption that his summoning meant he was going to move in. when lilith says he could stay at rurus', REALLY not wanting him here, he says "i can't have a room at both??" like the greedy little man he is. <3 willow is then shown her own room, where bad then proceeds to place the furniture he stole from lilith into the room for her.

the birth certificate is revealed! willow is lilith's daughter, and bbh is her guardian demon. (many were unsure if he was a parent to willow but lilith clarified on twitter that he's a guardian demon that will show up from time to time) rurus inquires if HE scribbled his name there, and he says "no, no! that's crazy. that'd be ridiculous." in a bit of a liar voice.

when he accidentally picks up willow's sign, he courteously says "im sorry," and gives it back, prompting rurus to tell lilith she could just ask and he'd give her stuff back. when she does in a cutesy way, he dodges it entirely by saying "no hablo inglés" and when lilith demands for the furniture in spanish, he says "i don't speak spanish". i wouldn't call it entirely parental as willow's not his kid, but as you can tell bbh has shown far more care and respect to this child he just met than his contractors. the trickster has priorities!

they tuck willow into bed, and bbh falls asleep standing up, when lilith starts shoving him saying it's time to get him to bed, he wakes up suddenly, yelling "night terrors!! night terrors!!" we know he's gone long periods of time without sleeping, but he's having night terrors when he does...

bbh has technical issues, and during that time, rurus and lilith have a back and forth about him and their contract which is summarized in the bout with nex above. rurus says "you know, i used to be able to swear before i knew him, and now i can't." "huh! that's a weird incantation." this itself is likely a joke about their out of character friendship, but they come up with the idea that he might have a literal swear jar that he puts people's swears in, never to be said again lol.

lilith decides to keep the portal open as bad loses summoning connection to their world (aka technical difficulties) so he can visit whenever he likes to be a guardian demon for willow.

this wraps up the mythcraft section of new q!bbh pieces! onto arkanis!

a lot of people were unsure if mr. x would be q!bbh, but it becomes VERY clear based on how he acts with familiar faces, and some late night conversations...

not much to note when bad / mr. x greets fit, but there's a very silly familiarity when he says he'd like to take fit out to brunch right before talking about torturing him... yeah sure man why not O_O when fit asks if he's considered being GOOD and not murdering people, bad says "i considered it, but my therapist says i should embrace my hobbies. im trying to listen to my therapist more." so he at least had a therapist in recent times to tell him this, because on quesadilla island when asked about therapy, he mentioned something along the lines of that he tried therapy once, but he'd get chased out of town by people with pitchforks.

to briefly dissect the cutscene, from what i've learned, bad floating is a sign that he's powerful in valigma! only people with magic in valigma can float, examples being araldo when we get to see him later, and also bia raux who is also brought up to bad when telling him the current lore after the event. also. the manor. the banquet. i love you builders, it's so eggpire-coded. that man can't escape the aesthetic of red vines even if c!bbh tried LOL and another fun detail, he has ghosties/souls bursting around him! it's become integral to his character :)

when mr. x encounters the brazilians and his escaped captive fit, all the fantasminhas float around him! it's super cute that the grim reaper got little ghost sidekicks, and then doesn't even recognize that they're ghosts <3 he mostly called denix a gremlin or goblin, but that's because out of character he DEFINITELY knew who the admin was, that's why he bullied them so much and not the others lol.

even though he's having fun annoying everyone as mr x., bad still takes moments for the little ghosts, like spam crouching with amora when she creeps up to him, him and denix bonding by killing a penguin?? and playing songs on the flute and they all surround him and dance. :)

when the find the button room starts, and bad does his npc voice, bagi immediately starts yelling, knowing the "you got this! you can do it!" all too well, and bad keeps saying it in recognition. while it was already true that ak!bagi is a continuation of q!bagi, this interaction itself can be enough to assume that mr. x is q!bbh if he remembers it like she does. when it's revealed it's a find the button room, she's even MORE distressed, "are you responsible for this? please- please tell me you don't..." "i would never!" he says like a liar, and then maniacally laughs. bagi also frequently calls him "bad" and not mr. x unlike mostly everyone else, seeing through the silly alias.

one interesting detail is how hungry mr. x is for totems!! every once in a while he'll mention how he wants more totems popped, in the valigma cemetary / cemetario do valigma, he asks quel for how many totems they have, when they say a hundred, he says "passa tudo!" and drops mobs on them. he really wants totems for some reason!! does he absorb something from it or did he just really hate foolish that day? lol

once the event is over, bad and bagi get to talk! bad becomes uncle to amora, bagi's daughter. amora is immediately very sweet to bad! bagi catches bad up on what's going on in valigma, telling him about araldo and bia, and bagi thinks because he's a demon that he could help the specialists understand and handle the magic themselves, "you see those pink blocks glowing that way? they're like some of the magic powers that this land has, but we can't just touch it and start doing magic all the way through the town. so, basically, there's powers everywhere that we don't know how to use and those two entities fighting each other, they use different kinds of power. so maybe you, being a demon and stuff... maybe you can teach us how to handle this." which, upon mention of him being a demon, he deflects by admiring a streetlamp. bad didn't act this way with lilith and rurus because they were already aware he was a demon since they summoned him, but he never confirmed anything to bagi other than the vague vastness of his age and his immortality, if i remember correctly. which is more than he's confirmed to other people!

bad points out bagi's smoking, "you've taken up smoking, im guessing it's been really hard?" "yeah! yeah, no, that was because, the things i lived before, you know..." "yeah i understand..." "it caused me a lot of trouble." if im correct in assuming this is about the island and losing the kids... :( which bad then segues into asking if there's an ikea. LOL

when jvnq starts taking bad to pac's house to steal furniture, he says "oh wow! you guys are all nice and close together, i like this. yeah, i hate having to walk really far." knowing that q!bbh tried really hard to get people to live close by to him when he was dying so someone would take care of his kids recontextualizes this as living far away being a regret he still holds </3 (not to mention, cc!bad himself regrets building his bases so far away)

when pac says he'll give bad more muffins and furniture if he teaches him how to fly and such, bad deflects by saying "yeah! it's easy, you just got to... you got a- you got a nice view!" and looking at the black hole outside his house.

later on, when bad gets transported by araldo, they seem to get along nicely and araldo wants him to do MORE chaos at some point, which i believe is worrisome if it's true that araldo is the problem in the fight between araldo and bia raux... but also very fitting for him. meanwhile, sent back to his friends, he has only good things to say about him, and also inserted some of his silly lies. the entire interaction feels reminiscent of the times he'd talk about the 'eyeball guy with the snatched waist' aka the watcher, or even cucurucho to a certain degree LOL

when gabe takes bad to space, bad comments that it's a first for him! "the moon is just like i imagined it'd be..." congrats !bbh for having your first moon experience, at least, as far as you can remember!

meanwhile, transported to the mr. x manor, bad gives a dizzying tour to gabe, denix, and amora! he introduces the skeppy room when asked about his bedroom, mentioning he doesn't really need to sleep, and he instead meditates on top of the skeppy. (someone PLEASE feed this man dapper's special cake recipe) he also introduces his chair and i have no doubt that people have shown a comparison of his chair here vs. his chair in the hall of grim but i'll put it here anyways lol. he's also very consistent because the vod i went to to get a screenshot of his hall of grim chair is the near exact same "and this is my chair..." when he introduces it.

when bad, gabe, denix and amora are in the maze that the experts + fit went through to get to the cemetary, they stop at a corner to chat and gabe asks bad "changing the subject a little, if you had a son now what would his name be?" (possibly more gender neutral than the translator says, which is how bad interprets it,) this likely was on the mind because a bit earlier while exploring the manor, denix asked him to give him a second name or middle name and bad hadn't answered. bad stops to think about it, before prefacing "well, i- i've had kids over the years, a couple, but you're saying if i got a new kid, right? what would i name... him... probably... how do you say 'gremlin' in portuguese?" it's the same, but alternatively gabe offers "duende." meaning denix's second name is probably duende now LOL but more importantly, for the first time, at least directly tonight, q!bbh was reminded of his children. gabe contextualizes why he asked, "it's because in this city... anything can happen, you understand? one day you're single, and sad, and the next you have a family." "no, that's true... yeah. i- i understand what it's like, one day you just wake up and you got kids, i totally get it... and then everybody dies, and you're left alone." OOGH. EEYOWCH. we don't know for certain how long q!bbh has been living after escaping quesadilla island, or if even in the end cc!bad is planning that he escapes at all, he might still be bound to it. but however long it's been, he's been carrying onto the weight of everyone disappearing, with only strange creatures (the bunnies, the penguins, cucurucho...) to keep him company once everyone is gone. gabe inquires about if his family died, and he covers up with "oh, no, im just saying that's the inevitable. that's what happens, sorry." ...top 10 sentences that are more depressing when contextualized by an immortal demon with a heart too big for people to comprehend... :( something that bad misses here is denix asking if he wants to adopt amora, but this comes back around!

transported again, while gabe walks bad towards the boat the experts arrived on, he says "valigma keeps many mysteries and lots of trouble, right? fights, in this case many fights, problems, death, pain, suffering, and then we decide to have a child despite all these problems; how can this be, right? it's a weak point." bad says "yeah, love tends to lead to lots of problems..." which would be specifically commenting on taking care of children. and from the perspective of his current situation, being without them... yowch. :( then bad falls into a ravine, shoved by denix, and amora saves him. :) but when he fell he purposefully avoided landing in the water. :(

later on they go to the leaderboard! there amora offers that bad can adopt her for a while, since she's "kinda an orphan" based on the activity of her parents other than bagi, and he accepts :) though knowing he literally can't be active either lol. from then on, amora calls bad "dad" for the rest of the night, and "pai bad" the next day when talking with some of the experts :)

some more fun stops later, they pause in the gallery as gabe explains more of the araldo and bia beef, to which bad says once more to "wine and dine" araldo... if u want it done right, do it urself, geez... chat, beat this guy up for me... he has a weakness for guys with power... another moment in this stop to goof around, bad says "yeah, im really good at cooking... people. meals." which is normal q!bbh and the least surprising thing he's said or done all night.

the night slowly comes to a close, after running into guaxi for a small reunion, he says goodbye with a bang when denix kills him and he logs out. they then contain mr. x's corpse in a box of glass, preserved for memories <3

if this is what post-qsmp has been like for q!bbh so far, IM SO EXCITED FOR MORE!!! and yes i HAVE spent at least 5 hours writing notes as i vod review!!! q!bbh on arkanis felt a lot like a classic day on qsmp with his character plus some pain and suffering, and q!bbh on mythcraft gave us some extra lore bits to think about!!! very very fun, im sooo excited for whatever ending cc!bad has been wanting to make for q!bbh, because if it means he's still kicking it going around to other worlds, all of his pain in tow, IM SO READY!!! thank you if you went through everything here it was a doozy and mostly for yelling about with other people since i haven't been on tumblr for a while and i miss the screams from here. :)