#WHAT DID HE MEAN BY THAT? WHAT DID HE MEAN BY THAT?

[senilthesynth]

*sigh* he did not strike down the Equal Employment Opportunity Act. The Equal Employee Opportunity Act was signed in 1972. What he *did* do was strike down an executive order that Lyndon B. Johnson signed in 1965 requiring federal contractors to basically implement aspects of what would eventually become the EEOA. He striked down an executive order requiring federal contractors to have non-discriminatory hiring practices & work on affirmative action to create a more diverse workforce - this doesn't mean that contractors *can't* do those things (well, if they're fine losing federal contracts), just that they're not *forced* to (which let's be real, a lot of them are definitely going to stop because it means federal contracts).

He chose that wording so people would conflate the two, and it worked to his benefit, as his administration wants and expects - I don't blame you or anyone else for falling for that, he did it for a reason. Mind you, a ton of businesses ARE federal contractors, so this is still pretty wide reaching, but it *still only applies to federal contractors*. If your employer has zero federal contracts, there is legally nothing forcing them to change course, nor is there anything enabling them to do so just yet.

Will they try to strike the EEOA proper down? Absolutely yes. The only thing he has been able to do is strike down executive orders that predate the laws that ensured the principle of the order stayed between presidencies - that, and make the institutions that exist because of those laws nonexistent or unable to do their essential job function (which like, we've seen that play out plenty in the last month). Unless you work for a federal contractor (or are looking at companies that take federal contracts), nothing changed for you legally as of Jan. 23rd.

Panic about *what's to come* because this is a massive red flag with neon lights that is 100% signalling that they want to do this. Do not get me wrong, they *want* that outcome. They want the Equal Employment Opportunity Act of 1972 to disappear, and we SHOULD be freaking out and figuring out how the fuck to prepare for that possibility - both in terms of how to prevent it from disappearing, how to pressure states to create their own version (if they haven't already), and how to best support everyone that will be impacted. They want to tear back every right that anybody that isn't a cishet white male has achieved since the 60s. *Please still freak out and prepare for that as their end goal*.

But for now, for a little while longer until it inevitably gets challenged in court, the Equal Employment Opportunity Act of 1972 still exists. You are still (technically) protected under it, as well as any potential equivalents that exist at your state's level.

(The EOs he's repealed almost certainly require various institutions - private and public - to operate against established law that technically supercedes EOs, which will inevitably drag both his orders and the laws that are in direct conflict with them into courts and the odds that things go in his favor are VERY high, and since we know that they're doing all of this on purpose, we DO need to plan for when these laws end up being challenged and potentially crumble as a result)

Trump basically declared disabled people ‘unfit to work’ as he put it by revoking the Equal Employment Opportunity Law of 1965. It means employers no longer have to legally give accommodations to disabled employees. This will render so many Americans jobless and barely anyone is talking about it because disabled people like me are treated as expendable.

[shawtuzi]

i’m currently reading the reverb series by the amazing, talented, incredible @chrollohearttags and now i can’t stop thinking about musician!eren *cries*

cw include: no plot whatsoever literally just nasty sex, reader is kinda obsessed w him, drug usage (weed), riding, reader has megan knees, pussydrunk eren, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), multiple orgasms, eren lowkey falls in love w reader shes that good man idk

the sound of skin slapping and your whiny moans could throughout eren’s tour bus—not even the rap music playing in the background from the stereo could tune you two out unfortunately.

“f-fuck m’nutting againnn!” you squealed out, your hand slapping against the blacked out window. eren took an extra long hit of the blunt perched between his fingers, his brows scrunching in pure bliss. his free hand was gripping onto the fat of your ass, whatever strength he had was being used to help move you up and down.

he couldn’t help but moan when you smushed your lips against his, inhaling the bitter smoke from his blunt. “your dick is even better than i imagined w-when i—hah! touched myself,” your words were slurred as you spoke, a tiny giggle following. all eren could do was nod and bite his lip. my mans was lost in the sauce, pussydrunk as fuck!

you drained his balls three times; once from head and the other two from riding him like a fucking madwoman. you didn’t even give him a break to catch his breath either, no no you were determined to leave this man a drooling mess! that way he’ll be more likely to give you call whenever he’s in your city again hehe

“you’re fuckin’ crazy,” his voice was low when he spoke, boarder line growling out the words. his head pathetically fell backwards with a lil thud, this gave you the perfect opportunity to start kissing and sucking at his neck. normally he’d tell you to back the hell up and not leave any evidence, but hey, with pussy that good you could do whatever you wanted with him.

you warm, gummy walls hugged his dick so nicely he was actually about to start tweaking out. “w-why *huff* why’re you fuckin’ me like that, goddamn girl,” eren grunted, swatting your ass three times. you slowed down your pace until you stopped completely, his balls now sitting snugly against your ass.

you cocked your head at him, a dopey smile making its way onto your lips. “well ain’t it obvious ren? i’m your biggest fan,” you pointed to your left breast where eren had signed his name in sharpie, it was a tad streaky now due to your current activities but it still looked hot as fuck. “and as your biggest fan i wanna see you every time you touch down in my city ‘kay?” you began to circle your hips and that had eren’s lashes fluttering.

eren damn near dropped the blunt when you reached behind you to squeeze at his swollen balls, which were already more than ready to fill you up with his cum again. oh yeah! did i mention he’s hitting it rawww? yeah you’re that good.

“yeah, yeah i’ll hit you up. on my life i will,” his sentence trailed off as you pushed your chest into his face, suffocating him in literally the best way possible. you plucked the blunt from his fingers and took a couple hits before setting it aside—you’d be damned if he forgot how to work his limbs and burn you!

“i really mean it when i say m’your biggest fan—mmph! i-i jus’ happen to fuck good too,” you adjusted your position before bouncing on his dick once more. you left out the part where you quite literally practiced this exact encounter on your favorite dildo.

eren’s nostrils flared as he looked at the mess between your bodies, it was beautiful. he never knew someone could make such a mess out of him yet here he was, drool nearly slipping past his kiss bitten lips as you brought him closer and closer to his fourth orgasm of the night.

“i just wanted to take care of you after your show, you work so hard renny ‪‪❤︎‬.” renny? you had nicknames for him already? fuck, he was so close to cumming what was even happening anymore?

eren felt like the air got punched out of his chest when you halted your movements, you looked at him with what he could’ve swore were hearts in your eyes. “did you hear me renny?”

eren’s adams apple bobbed when he swallowed, he licked his lips and nodded. “yeah i heard you, baby. so sweet for taking care of renny like that,” he couldn’t even believe what he was saying right now—this had to be his dick talking for him.

his head tilted back when you starting moving again, this time you had a little swivel in your hips that had his abs clenching. “god i’m finna—” eren bucked his hips up desperately to reach his high, it was just in his grasp. when he came it was earth shattering to say the least, and you just kept on going, milking him for everything he was worth.

thick, opaque globs of his cum dripped from your pussy and onto his thighs, creating an even bigger mess. “so good ren,” you muttered, licking up his neck until you reached his lips. “sure fuckin’ is,” eren hummed into the kiss, his tatted hand coming up to wrap around your throat.

sometime later . . . .

“what the actual fuck is taking him so long in there? he never takes this long with the other ‘fans’,” jean sighed, beyond irritated as him and the rest of eren’s security waited outside of the rocking tour bus. loud moans could be heard from inside, along with the occasional slap.

“fuck it i’m calling him,” jean growled, whipping out his phone to chew eren thee fuck out. surprisingly the call went through, unfortunately for jean eren wasn’t about to stop what he was doing in that moment to give him his full attention, hence why skin slapping could be heard on the line. “what do you want,” eren’s words were slurred as he spoke, almost as if he was actually fucking drunk!

he currently had you in backshots, both of your hands being held back by his larger one. his emerald eyes zoomed in on the way your pussy pulled him back each time he pulled out, what a pretty little sight.

“you need to hurry it the fuck up, we have a flight to catch in an hour! wrap it up er—”

“i don’t wanna hear none of that,” was all eren said before hanging up and tossing his phone to the side. no fucking way was eren about to stop now, not when his new, pretty lil fan girl was so close to cumming!

[plutotheplum]

His Eyes All Over Me

sylus x fem!reader

summary: ever since experiencing sylus' frenzy, you find yourself feeling strange. it all comes to a head after your movie date.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, p in v, knotting, scent kink, praise kink, breeding kink, aftercare, brief switch!sylus

w/c: 6.1k

a/n: guys idk what happened all of a sudden i was possessed and the breeding kink just appeared <3

also on ao3!

I know exactly what it means, which is why I’m accepting this.

Sylus’ cryptic words leave you confused as the movie ends. It wasn’t even meant to mean anything in particular, although perhaps that was just you convincing yourself that you were in total control of this situation. You were giving the feather to him as a kind gesture, nothing more. 

… Fuck, had he seen it as more? 

A dull throb spreads out from across your temples, your fingers itching to pull out your phone and simply search up whatever it is he meant.

Why did feelings have to be so complicated? 

You bite back a groan, slumping back in the car seat, an irritated look passing over your face.

“Something wrong?” Sylus’ smooth voice cuts through the silence, his eyes glancing towards you as he drives.

“No,” you manage out, trying to stop your voice from dipping into a grumble. You sneak a glance at his face, only to find your gaze dipping to observe the way his long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearms flexing with every move after he’d rolled up his jacket sleeves.

Ever since you’d managed to stop him from descending into a Praedator’s Frenzy, you’d found yourself suffering from a strange affliction. Yes, you had been terrified when you were trapped in that large birdcage with him, panic racing through your body as you tried to stop his sanity from unravelling any further and yet… you’d been embarrassingly aroused.

The way his teeth had sunk into your earlobe, his fangs scraping and vicious against the delicate skin of your neck. You had liked it in some sick sense. The heat that pooled between your thighs was because of Sylus, his feral nature and tight grip on your hips had made your mind swirl, his low, rasping voice, the slight rut of his hips into your ass- 

You needed a cold shower. One with actual ice, preferably.

The car rumbles to a stop, and you get out agitatedly, cursing under your breath when you realize Sylus was following you in, up to your apartment. It isn’t hard for you to notice that Sylus has taken note of your change in behavior, his hands shoving into his pockets as he stares at you.

“Something is wrong,” Sylus muses, tilting his head in a searching manner. “What? You didn’t enjoy the movie?”

“It was fine,” you reply shortly, playing with your fingers. “I think I’m coming down with something.” A blatant lie to a man who probably knew you better than you knew yourself. You clear your throat, coughing a little exaggeratedly. “A cold.”

“A cold,” he echoes, dipping his head to stare down at you scrutinizingly. You yelp when he grabs at your wrist, his fingers pressing against your pulse point. Sylus’ eyes darken, his playful expression fading as his lips thin, his voice a low hiss. “Liar.”

“That’s-” you grumble, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, “that’s unfair.”

He stares down at you for a moment longer, his eyes searching. You squirm under his gaze, heart fluttering a little when he cocks his head to the side before straightening up.

“If you didn’t enjoy my company, you should’ve just said so,” Sylus drawls, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath as you step out the elevator. “I wasn’t lying because I didn’t enjoy your company.”

Your current predicament was actually because of the contrary; you were finding that you were enjoying his company a little too much. You kick your shoes off when you get inside, hearing the soft lock of the door as Sylus closes it behind him. 

When he stares at you blankly, you shoot him an unimpressed look, gesturing towards your couch. “Make yourself at home, Sylus.”

“I don’t remember my former roommate being so… cruel,” he sighs, sounding aggrieved. “Especially after rewarding me with such a heartfelt gift.” Sylus grins devilishly, his lips curving upwards, eyes glinting with amusement. 

You flush, cheeks feeling hot with embarrassment.

“Whatever you think it means,” you snap, glaring at him in an attempt to hide your own flusteredness, “it doesn’t mean that. I was being nice, okay? Because I am a nice person!”

“Right,” Sylus laughs lowly. It’s a derisive sound, mocking and aggravating enough to have you bristling with anger. You watch as he moves until he’s leaning against the back of the couch, his ankles crossed over each other, arms crossed over his chest. “You were being nice.”

“I was!” you protest, body growing warmer. “You’re just being weird and- and sauve because-” 

“Because?” Sylus presses, narrowing his eyes.

“Because you have a crush on me!”

Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t even know where the outburst came from, but your hand is slapping over your mouth as you stare at Sylus, feeling utterly mortified. You were totally projecting.

“A crush,” he echoes, clicking his tongue as he examines you.

“I- I didn’t mean that,” you blurt out, voice all pitchy and panicky. “I only meant that-”

You squeak when he reaches you in a few measured strides, his calloused fingers squishing your cheeks together until your lips pucker out like a fish. 

“No?” Sylus murmurs, raising his brows, “pray tell, Miss Enforcer, what did you mean?”

“I… I don’t know?” you offer meekly, fidgeting under his grip, desperate to be let free.

Sylus’ nose nudging against your cheek causes you to stiffen, his fingers loosening their grip on you to instead stroke across the skin of your jaw. You let out a soft noise when he cups your cheek, his hands maneuvering your head until his nose grazes across the length of your neck, his breath hot as it fans across your skin.

“And if I did?” he asks, pressing himself closer, arm dropping to wrap around your waist tightly. “Have a… crush as you say.”

“Then- then-” you struggle to form a sentence, biting your lip to muffle any more damning noises that could be used against you.

“Then?” Sylus cajoles, his voice low and lilting, nose pressing firmly into your throat as he sucks in a sharp breath, savoring your scent.

“Then that would be embarrassing!”

You shove at his chest, stumbling a bit, still hazy from his closeness and intimate ministrations. Sylus holds you in place with his gaze, his arms crossing over his chest and you swallow down an indecent sound when you see the slight flex of his biceps underneath the fabric of his jacket.

The kitchen counter grounds you, your fingers pressing against the cool marble. It feels hard to breathe, and rather you’re the embarrassing one, having lost your nerve the moment he had gotten too close.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” Sylus asks, cocking his head to the side, his shoulders rolling lazily. 

“Notice what?” you shoot back, grasping for a glass and filling it up with water before chugging it down rapidly.

“Stop playing stupid,” he replies, his grin mirthless. “I smelt it on you the moment you stepped into that birdcage with me.”

Now he was saying you smelt bad? 

“Smelt what?” you scoff, partially offended. You turn your head, angling it down towards your shoulder, trying to sniff yourself subtly. 

Sure, maybe you were a little sweaty, but he was making you nervous! You frown at Sylus, and he rolls his eyes, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, tilting your head upwards, towards him.

“Your arousal,” Sylus rasps, his eyes pinning you in place. “Wetness, slick, whatever you wish to call it. I can smell it, Miss Enforcer.”

Your face pales, humiliation washing over your expression, stomach twisting uncomfortably with embarrassment. Whatever thoughts are currently occupying your mind fizzle away, replaced by a sense of overwhelming mortification. 

You open your mouth to respond and clamp it back shut, thinking better of it lest you embarrass yourself any further. Perhaps there was no point to having a sense of dignity, seeing as Sylus had clearly torn it to shreds. 

“The Frenzy Enhancer doesn’t only enhance a Praedator’s Frenzy,” Sylus murmurs, tugging your head back when you avert your gaze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “It heightens our senses; for the purpose of making it all the more agonizing when one is deprived of delivering a bite.”

The LCBI had neglected to include that little fact in your training. You swallow nervously when his thumb traces down your cheek, over your jaw and presses against the jumpy pulse in your throat.

“Even now,” he continues, his other hand fisting your hair to tug your head back further. You yelp at the pain that sears across your scalp, fingers scrabbling at his chest as he presses his nose to your throat and inhales again. “You’re enjoying this, Miss Enforcer.”

“I- I am not!” you protest, doing your best to sound offended and hide the traitorous heat that was currently swirling low in your stomach with every fan of his breath against your skin. “Your nerves are clearly misfiring; d- damaged probably,” you sputter, “after your Frenzy.”

Sylus laughs hoarsely, his eyes lighting up and you know your pathetic excuse hasn’t worked.

“Stop fighting this,” he says, still sounding amused, his eyes softening slightly when he sees how flustered you’ve become. “You don’t stand to gain anything from pushing me away. Haven’t I made my intentions clear?”

“It’s complicated,” you murmur, “you’re- you’re you-”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, raising his brows.

You huff out an aggravated breath, refusing to be cornered.

“Nothing. I only reacted that way because you seemed awfully wanton in that birdcage,” you hiss heatedly, waving your hands about. “Not to mention uninhibited.” 

“I was hit with a Frenzy Enhancer,” Sylus snaps, his fists clenching. “Yes, I was uninhibited, but I was not wanton.”

Your lips purse as you consider Sylus’ response, remembering the way he had arched his back in his frenzy, the subtle buck of his hips when you’d placed your hand on his pec. Not to mention the groaning and well… whimpering. The feeling of his teeth on your ear hadn’t exactly helped in the moment either. 

There’s an itch in you to get the last word in.

“You were wanton,” you argue, shooting him a stubborn look.

“I could have killed you,” Sylus murmurs dangerously, reaching out to grab your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Sometimes a bite isn’t enough. I could have torn you apart, limb by limb until you were all but a severed, bleeding mess on the cold floor. Would you have liked that?”

You can’t say you would’ve, remembering the Praedator attack all those years, but this Sylus and there’s a foolish part of you that hopes that he would have been able to reign in his base desires.

“I’m still in one piece,” you mumble out, “besides, I know how to handle myself.” You sneak a glance down at the way his hands are holding yours, lips pursing as you feel the warmth of skin bleeding into yours. It’s too much for your poor heart, really. “You can let go now.”

“No,” he says quietly, his voice softer as he dips his head, the tip of his nose grazing yours. “I know you want this. I want this.”

You bite your lip at the pleading tone in his voice, heart stuttering in your chest. Sylus’ voice seems to wrap around you, and you peer up at him when he presses his forehead against yours, letting out a heavy exhale.

“Are you going to make me beg, hm?” Sylus muses, a smile pulling at his lips when he sees your lips twitch. “Please?” he whispers, his voice low and soft and somehow the sweetest you’ve ever heard Sylus. “I’ll be good, Miss Enforcer. Please?”

An incoherent noise escapes you, fingers tightening into his jacket as he steps closer, his body flush against yours.

“Will you let me have you?” he whispers, nosing into your cheek. “...Or perhaps you don’t want me to ask. Maybe you want me to lose control like I did in that birdcage. Growling and snapping and feral.”

Sylus was driving you insane. Your body feels hot, mind blank as a shaky breath escapes you when he grazes his fangs against your neck, his breath hot. You can feel how sticky your panties have become, thighs pressing together to try and soothe the ache of your cunt, aware of the overwhelming emptiness of it.

“Do you deny it, sweetness?”

“No,” you concede, your voice trembling, “no, I don’t.”

He hums, nudging impossibly closer, tongue darting out to lave over the erratic pump of blood in your throat. You open your mouth, a quiet mewl leaving you as he smiles against your skin, his lips pressing a heated kiss to your sensitive skin.

“Is that so?” Sylus muses, his hands drifting down to grasp your hips. “Such a shame you’ve waited so long to confess,” he continues, his voice low and purring, “had you asked me earlier, I would have given you my cock; no questions asked.”

“You- you would have?” you ask, your voice strangled as he kisses your neck again.

You can hardly catch up with what’s happening when he spins you around in his arms, his chest flush against your back, arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Yes,” he soothes, his fingers wrapping around your throat to tip your head back against his chest. “So many opportunities wasted,” he sighs, clicking his tongue. “I could have had you bouncing on my cock days ago, had my tongue buried inside of you, pounded into you until you were crying, bred you on my knot-”

“K- knot?” you squeak, head snapping to meet his eyes, “I thought that was a myth.”

“Hardly a myth,” he sighs, fingers dipping lower, delving under your skirt, “Praedators have knots, sweetness; intended to-” you gasp when he presses the pads of his fingers against your damp panties, stroking gently, “intended to lock us together.” Sylus smiles against your cheek, revelling in your wetness that was soaking through. He increases the pressure of his fingers, rubbing harder. “And I fully intend to knot you, Miss Enforcer,” he whispers, lips drifting across your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized. You’ll be begging to be bred the moment I cum inside of you.”

Begging to be bred? Cumming inside? He was going to cum inside? You were most definitely going to die tonight; although perhaps part of you was resigned to your fate, his obscene words making you greedy and leaving you wanting more. 

“Please,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his hand, grasping at his wrist to press his fingers against your clothed pussy more firmly. “I- I want that.”

Sylus lets out a hoarse grown at your whimpered confession, his fingers tugging your panties to the side.

“You’re dripping,” he hisses, fingers sliding through your puffy folds, “so, so wet, baby. Smells like you’re in heat.”

You really had to do more research on Praedators. Maybe you were in heat with how bold you had become, no longer stifling your noises, too far gone to care.

“That’s it,” Sylus rasps, rubbing your slick over your folds before sliding his fingers up to rub against your swollen clit. “Oh, it must ache,” he coos, beginning to rub tight circles against the throbbing bud, “I can feel how needy you are.”

Your head bobs up and down in rapid nods, ass pushing back into him as you rock your hips, whining when he circles your clit and squeezes your throat at the same time.

“Oh- oh fuck-” you mewl when he hunches over you a little, his breath quickening as he presses his hips into your ass like he had done a few nights ago in that birdcage. “Sylus!”

“So wet,” he mutters as though in a trance, his chin resting on your shoulder, fingers speeding up. “Shall I give you my fingers, baby, hm?”

“Y- yes,” you whine, dragging out the word into a low hiss, your nails digging into his forearm.

A sharp gasp leaves you when he eases one finger in, another following suit quickly after. It’s nothing like the feel of your own fingers, Sylus’ are longer and reach much, much deeper. You feel full already, head dropping forward as you moan raggedly, pushing at his hand to try and stuff his fingers inside of you even more.

“Greedy little slut,” he growls, his fingers crooking inside of you, “so needy and wanton, aren’t you? Pushing me away when what you really want is this - my fingers inside of you, my hand wrapped around your throat, my cock rutting into your ass.”

“I do,” you hiccup, mouth dropping open as you continue to moan, hips swaying back to meet his rutting, the everpresent press of his hard cock against you making your cunt drip with arousal. “Ah hah- I do want this.”

“Yes, you do,” he whispers raspingly. “Take what you need then, baby, take my fucking fingers.”

And you do take his fingers with soft cries and needy gasps and desperate whimpers. Sylus quickens his pace, tightening the hold he has on your throat when you try to squirm away, the lewd sounds of pussy embarrassing in the quietness of your apartment. He breathes heavily against your ear, panting as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, his hand turning slightly to add his thumb to the mix.

You arch your back against him when he rubs your clit, turning your head into the crook of his neck, mewling as you try and bounce, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers. Sylus snarls when you clench down on his fingers tightly, his face pressing into your neck, fangs digging into your skin as he leaves harsh, biting kisses. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you begin to chant, your hand sliding into his hair, fisting it and tugging as you roll your hips needily, panting raggedly. “‘m gonna ah- ‘m gonna cum, Sylus.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, careful to not let his fangs sink in too deep. “Cum on my fingers then, grind that wet, little pussy all over my hand and cum, baby.”

A sharp gasp leaves you, fingers clutching at his wrist when he fucks his fingers into your pussy faster, his thumb unrelenting on your swollen clit. You moan brokenly when he kisses your neck, tipping your head to the side to bare more of your neck to him. Sylus growls, his kisses trailing upwards, his lips soft behind your ear.

You cry out when he sinks his teeth into your earlobe, feeling the way his fangs bite into the delicate bone of your ear. It’s just like in the birdcage, you think dazedly. He ruts into your ass harder, and the ragged panting coming from him is enough to make you come undone. You try to steady yourself, but it’s impossible with the way your thighs tremble, head tossing back as you cum around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he breathes out when you shudder and quake in his arms, his grip tightening to prevent you from falling when your knees buckle. Sylus kisses your cheek, dragging his lips to pepper soft kisses along your jaw as you ride out the last few waves of your orgasm, his fingers still stroking over your clit gently as your cunt clenches. “Good girl, sweetness, you did so well for me.”

Chest rising and falling rapidly, you drop your head back against his chest, leaning against Sylus for support. You whine softly when he pulls his fingers free, his hands petting over your skirt as he smooths it down over your thighs.

On shaky legs, you turn, arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you closer, his head lowering as his nose brushes against yours gently.

“Be mine.”

Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses you, deep and longing. He squeezes at your waist and your hands drift, from his shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them to bring him closer, to kiss him more desperately.

Both of you stumble into the kitchen table, Sylus’ hands landing on either side of you as he deepens the kiss. You whine when he licks at your lower lip, mouth opening obediently for him. He groans and you let your hands drift, pawing at his trousers, palming at the material to feel the hard bulge of his cock, hot and thick and throbbing faintly against your hand through the layers of fabric. 

“I want it,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him feverishly. “I want your cock, Sylus. I- I want you to-” you can hardly believe you’re about to say this, but the thought of it ignites a heat inside of you, an overwhelming need to be completely at his mercy. “I want you to breed me.” 

His crimson eyes flare, hands reaching out towards you, pulling your shirt up over your head. You make an indignant sound when he hurriedly pulls your bra off, moaning in succession when he pinches your stiffened nipples.

“I can do that,” he murmurs, pulling at your skirt and panties too, until you’re bare. “I’ll breed you, baby.”

A laugh bubbles out of you when he picks you up, arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. Sylus’ steps are practised as he strides into your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed. You bounce a little, regaining your balance before crawling towards him, nuzzling into the bulge of his cock.

“‘s big, Sylus,” you whisper, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his jacket and shirt off in a smooth motion, his defined abdomen on display. You tug at his belt and he tugs it free, pushing his trousers and boxers down to reveal his cock.

It’s thicker than you’ve seen before, the tip of it blushed angrily, pre-cum smeared across the head. Your mouth waters, inching closer to run your tongue against the length of his cock, mewling softly at the heady taste as you trace your tongue across a prominent vein on the underside.

Your brows furrow when you run your tongue along the length again, pulling back to find a swollen ridge at the base of his cock. His knot. 

“Can I touch it?” you whisper curiously, head tilting to get a closer look.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, fingers spreading out across your scalp, scratching gently.

It’s strange, you think. A little puffier and thicker than his actual cock, darker in color too. You press your fingers against it gently and it gives just a bit under your prodding. You sneak a glance up at Sylus and he raises his brows, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“It’ll feel good inside of you,” he promises self-assuredly, “swells up when- oh fuck-”

His breath stutters when you mouth at his knot, tongue laving over the sensitive spot as you squirm, kissing his knot. You lick over the ridge again, smiling to yourself when Sylus’ thighs twitch. His hand pushes at your head subtly when you focus on his cock again, a quiet breathy sound escaping him, enough to have you perking up and your pussy clenching. You want him as needy as he had you.

“You said you’d be good,” you coo, leaning forward to brush a kiss to his hip, your head dipping again to nuzzle against his cock.

“I- nghhh-” Sylus stammers, his cheeks flushed a light pink when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to suck lazily. “I- I am being good.”

You hum happily, pressing your head forward, swallowing down more of his cock.

“Fuck-” he breathes out, his hands petting at your hair, pushing down gently to make you take his cock further, until it’s stuffed down your throat and your nose is buried into the snowy hair at the base of his cock. “Feels- ah- feels so good, sweetness.”

You smile when he lets you pull off, lapping at the tip of his cock teasingly, your hand reaching up to squeeze his pec. Sylus swears, his back arching at the action, a soft whine spilling out of him.

“You like this,” you muse, dipping your head to suckle at his balls, relishing in the noises he lets out, watching his thighs tremble. You stare up at him hazily, tongue lolling out for him when he grasps his cock, his hand squeezing at his knot, his knuckles white with tension.

Your fingers pinch at his nipple greedily when he presses his cock back in and you squeal, the sound muffled around the thickness of his cock when he tugs harshly at your own nipple in retaliation. 

“Brat,” he mutters, pushing your head down further, grunting softly when you dig your nails into his thighs and swallow around his cock.

“I thought you were being good,” you whine when he tugs at your hair, dipping his head to kiss you eagerly, his tongue licking into your mouth. You pout when he pulls away, feeling betrayed by the shortness of his submission. 

“Sorry, doll,” Sylus says, petting your head and rewarding you with another kiss; this time softer and sweeter, his lips lingering. 

You let him kiss you in your dazed state, and Sylus takes advantage, crawling over you, his hands kneading at the fat of your thighs. Your bed is already messy, the sheets rumpling as he jostles you a bit, patting your thigh to make you move further up on the bed.

Sylus settles between your thighs, his cock hot and heavy against your stomach as he drops his weight onto you, his hands finding yours before pinning them above your head. You sigh into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into your ass when he rolls his hips, grinding his bare cock against your pussy.

“I like these,” he mumbles when he kisses down your chest and noses into your breasts. An airy noise sounds when he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, his teeth catching against the bud before he bites down measuredly. 

You squirm, hips rolling needily when he sucks more of your breast into his mouth, alternating between them when he feels the other being neglected.

“Such pretty tits,” Sylus sighs, pulling back to stare at the stiffened peaks of your breasts, covered in his spit and budding teeth marks that were bound to bruise.

“I thought you were gonna knot me,” you murmur, rolling your hips up, mewling when you feel his cock slide between your folds.

“So desperate,” he muses, letting go of your hands in favor of grasping his cock.

You look down, eyes half-lidded as he grips the base of his cock, right over his knot that somehow seemed a little larger in the moments that had passed. A whine escapes you when he slaps his cock against your pussy, your cheeks flushing when you see the glistening strings of slick clinging to his cock.

“How sweet,” Sylus croons, his grin growing sharper, “even your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

You huff out a breath to hide your embarrassment, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”

He laughs, rising up to sit on the haunches of his legs, his hand stroking his cock lazily. “But you enjoy it, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want now.”

You watch with bated breath as he notches the head of his cock against your pussy, squirming when you realize how much his cock is actually going to stretch you out. The knot at the base seems even more intimidating; you feel a little nervous, thighs trying to clamp shut just when Sylus begins to push in. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, “relax, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

You reach for his hand, trying to calm your rapid heart and Sylus gives it to you, lacing your fingers together before kissing your knuckles.

A soft gasp leaves you when he begins to push in again, and that’s when you feel how girthy his cock truly is. It stretches you, inch by inch and you bite your lip, eyes slipping shut.

“That’s it,” Sylus soothes, squeezing your hand and tilting his head to kiss your shoulder, “take my cock, sweetness.”

An incoherent sound emanates from you when he sinks all the way in, your hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you feel how good he’s stretching you, how full you feel - and that’s without his knot. You stare down, heart fluttering in your chest when you see where you’re connected, his cock buried inside of you.

“A- aren’t you going to put your knot in?” you ask meekly, mouth dropping open when he begins to move his hips, the slow, rolling motions making you see stars.

“When you’re ready for it,” Sylus whispers, his voice hoarse, “pretty pussy’s still too tight for it. Practically trying to milk my cock already, baby.”

You hiccup, tears nearly springing to your eyes when he begins to draw his hips out, thrusting forward more forcefully. Sylus moans loudly and you claw at his back, arms and legs clinging to him tightly when he swirls his hips and grinds them forward, burying his cock in deeper with every thrust.

His knot seems to swelling rapidly, and you peek down with wide eyes, letting out a shaky breath when you see how thick it’s become. It squishes up against you with every thrust Sylus delivers, catching against your clit every now and then. 

“I- ngh- fuck- I don’t think it’s going to fit,” you whimper, trying to push at Sylus’ abdomen when he grips your hips.

He snaps his teeth, irritation showing on his face when you try to squirm away from his knot, his grip tight enough to keep you in place. “Don’t fucking run from it,” he snarls, and you’re reminded of the way he was in that birdcage, feral and unrelenting. 

You gulp when he grips your thighs, pushing them down towards your stomach, practically folding you until your cunt is on display for him. It’s lewd and obscene and so terribly hot, that your pussy clenches down greedily, eager for more of his attention.

“There we go,” he whispers, snapping his hips harder, his balls smacking against your ass, “pretty pussy loves my cock, hm?”

You blink up at him, nodding shyly, the words slipping out of you unbidden. “I love your cock, Sylus.”

Sylus’ hips stutter to a stop when he hears your shy, whispery words, his cheeks flushing to a pretty pink that has your eyes lighting up.

“Y- yeah?” he murmurs, and you laugh when he clears his throat, giddy by the fact that you’ve managed to fluster Sylus of all people. “Whose cock is it then, baby?”

“Mine,” you murmur, your fingers reaching down to scratch at his navel, through the coarse hairs that lie there. “Your cock’s all mine.”

Sylus groans and you yelp when he suddenly spreads you open, gasping when he thumbs apart your folds, his knot beginning to sink inside of you. It’s a tight fit and you cry out, tears pricking at your lash line when he finally manages to bully it in.

You feel so full, you’re almost sure you can feel his cock in your throat. 

“No- shit- don’t fucking clench,” he groans, his head dropping forward to bury his head into the crook of your neck when your pussy flutters around his fat cock and knot, trying to accomodate. 

“Can’t help it,” you wail, fingers pulling at his hair harshly, squeaking when he tugs his knot free and starts to fuck you again. 

Sylus ruts his hips into you, driving forward and pounding his cock into your cunt until you sob, writhing on your bed, the building pleasure entirely overwhelming. The clap of his hips is loud, balls smacking into you with every thrust, his knot creating an embarrassing sound whenever it sinks inside of you, before Sylus pulls his hips back, tugging the knot free.

“Gonna breed you,” he begins to mutter, his teeth nipping at your shoulder and neck, biting with measured care. “I’m going to breed this tight fucking cunt, sweetness. Give you all of my fucking cum.”

“All of it,” you echo breathlessly, “want it- want your knot, Sylus.”

“You’re getting it,” he growls, squeezing your hips tightly before shoving his knot in completely.

You scream, twitching when it swells inside of you completely. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, entirely too large to be tugged free again when Sylus jerks his hips.

“Oh- oh my- fuck-” you squeal, and Sylus smashes his lips over yours in a heated kiss. It’s all teeth and fangs and spit, and you grab blindly at his shoulders, gasping uncontrollably when it continues to swell, growing fatter and fatter until your pussy throbs around it, the knot locking you together.

“Cum,” Sylus rasps against your lips, “cum, doll, cum on my fucking knot. Cum on my fucking knot so I can give you my cum and breed this sweet, little pussy.”

You moan brokenly, thighs twitching when he rubs your clit, the sensations on the sensitive bud trying to make you curl away from him. Sylus kisses you again and you whimper into his mouth, cunt clenching uncontrollably as you cum, head tossed back, and back arched.

He curses, his head dropping forward at the feel of your pussy, and you mewl when he cums straight after, ears perking up at the low growls and breathy groans. His cum is hot and thick, and you’re still too full, filled up with his cum and his cock. The knot doesn’t give way until several moments later, deflating slowly.

Sylus’ cum spills out, hot and slow and you watch with dazed eyes as it leaks out of you, your pussy fluttering around nothing, thanks to the loss of his fat cock. 

“That’s no good,” he murmurs, his fingers spreading through his cum, rubbing it over your folds and clit before trying to push it back into your pussy.

Sylus frowns at you when you slap his hand away, and you give him a half-hearted glare, pussy aching and thighs sore from the way he had fucked and bent you. He hums, slinking down the bed to kiss your thighs and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, the throbbing in your pussy fading faintly as he massages your sore muscles and kisses your clit every now and then, his actions affectionate.

You let him clean you up, thankful for the glass of water he brings you. Sylus pulls you closer into his chest, kissing your forehead, his hands smoothing up and down your sides.

“So what does it mean?” you ask him quietly, leaning forward to meet his kiss when he tips your chin upwards, “the feather?”

Sylus’ expression sobers for a moment, his lips grazing across your cheek to whisper into your ear.

“That your soulmate is near.”

You pull back, staring up into his eyes suspiciously. When you see the slight twitch of his lips, his usual smirk pulling across his lips, you scoff and swat his chest. He laughs, catching your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“What?” he murmurs, “am I really such a bad candidate to be your soulmate?”

“You’re lying,” you grouse, letting him pull you up onto his lap and press his face into the crook of your neck.

“You don’t know that,” Sylus whispers, tilting his head to kiss the pulse in your throat.

You can’t help but think he has such a strange obsession with it. When he emerges from the crook of your neck, you cup his jaw, staring up into his eyes. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, you think, spending every life with him, especially when he’s like this.

“Then promise me,” you say, your voice holding a hint of a challenge. “Promise me that when we’ve passed and our bones are nothing but dust that you’ll find me in the next life.”

Sylus seems slightly taken aback by your request, his eyes widening momentarily before he leans forward, slotting his lips over yours. “Is that a confession of love, sweetness?” He smiles against your lips, nipping your lower lip. “In any case, I promise it,” he whispers, his gaze intense, “in this life or the next, I will find you and have you.”

You purse your lips, heart fluttering at his declaration.

“You’re a fool,” you mumble, pressing yourself more firmly against his chest, head resting on his shoulder.

“And yet you still took my knot.”

“I hate you.”

Sylus pouts mockingly, his lips attacking your cheek with kisses until you have no choice but to let out the laughter you’ve been holding in. His words are a gentle whisper, caressing your skin, his promise tightening the unseen bonds that bind you together. 

“Forever, my sweet soulmate.”

[pucksandpower]

Don’t Let Go

Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader

Summary: five times, spanning nearly three decades, that you and Charles held hands (a little treat for Valentine’s Day from me to you)

Warnings: mentions of Jules Bianchi’s death and depictions of labor

Based on this request

The Mediterranean sun bathes everything in warmth, and the beach is alive with laughter and the salty scent of the sea. Families dot the sand, umbrellas casting colorful spots of shade, and kids run along the shoreline, kicking up sprays of water that glint in the sunlight. You and Charles stand together, eyes wide with the thrill of the world around you, hands clasped tightly.

“Don’t let go, okay?” He says, giving your hand a little squeeze. His face is solemn, as if this is the most serious promise he’s ever made.

You nod with all the gravity a four-year-old can muster. “I won’t.”

And then his face breaks into a grin, eyes bright with excitement. “Look! Over there!” He points, and you both tilt your heads up to see a man spinning cotton candy onto a cone, a swirl of pastel pink and blue that looks like a cloud.

“Can we get some?” You ask, voice small and hopeful, like the entire day depends on this one piece of fluffy sugar.

Charles looks at you, then at the cotton candy man, then back at you. He lowers his voice, like he’s plotting something daring. “We’ll ask Maman, but … maybe we could sneak away?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, we’re not allowed.”

“Oh, fine,” he says with an exaggerated sigh, as if being five years old and following rules is already exhausting. “But if we did, you’d have to hold my hand the whole time.”

“I’m already holding your hand,” you remind him, swinging his arm a little.

He laughs, and then your parents call out, reminding you both to stay close, to not let go of each other.

“We’re not letting go!” Charles calls back, his hand still firmly in yours.

Together, you walk with your families through the crowded boardwalk, weaving around beach bags and coolers, dodging groups of older kids with towels slung over their shoulders. But then, in one sudden, disorienting moment, everything changes. A group of teenagers pushes through, their laughter loud and jarring, and somehow, in the confusion, Charles’ hand slips from yours.

He realizes it just a split second too late, his fingers grasping at air. He turns, panicked, eyes wide. “Y/N?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, and in the noise of the crowd, it’s swallowed up.

You’re gone.

Charles stands there, frozen, heart pounding. He looks around frantically, calling your name again, louder this time. “Y/N!”

He sees nothing, only the sea of legs and sunburned shoulders and wide-brimmed hats. His heart races, and his chest feels tight. He can’t lose you — not like this. He bolts back to where your parents are, his voice high-pitched and breathless.

“Maman! Y/N … she … she’s gone!”

The look on his mother’s face goes from confusion to alarm in an instant. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“We were holding hands, but … but then-” He’s trying to explain, but the words feel sticky in his mouth, and he can barely get them out. “She’s gone! She’s not here!”

Your mother’s face pales as she clutches Charles’ arm, her eyes darting around. “Where did you last see her?”

“There!” He points back toward the spot by the cotton candy vendor, but it’s as if the place has transformed in the few seconds you’ve been gone. Nothing looks the same. Every face, every family, every child blends together into a blur.

The panic spreads, rippling through the small group of adults as they start scanning the crowd, calling your name with voices that tremble.

Charles stands rooted, clutching at his mother’s hand. It’s all his fault. He let go. He was supposed to keep you safe. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, feeling tears start to sting at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to …”

Your father places a hand on Charles’ shoulder, his voice calm but with an edge of urgency. “Stay with your mother, Charles. We’re going to find her, okay?”

But even as the adults scatter, scanning the faces in the crowd, calling your name with increasing desperation, Charles can’t just stand there. He looks up at his mother, his voice tiny. “I want to help.”

“Charles-”

“I have to help,” he insists, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Please. I promised I wouldn’t let go.”

There’s a pause, then a nod. His mother’s grip tightens on his shoulder, as if grounding him. “Stay close, mon chéri. We��ll find her.”

Together, they start moving through the crowd, calling your name. Charles’ voice cracks each time he says it, and with every passing minute, his chest feels heavier. He keeps glancing around, hoping to see your face, to see you waving back at him with that little smile. But all he sees are strangers.

The minutes stretch, dragging into what feels like hours. He begins to wonder if maybe you’re lost forever, that maybe this is his punishment for letting go, for letting his fingers slip from yours.

And then, in the distance, he catches sight of a cluster of people gathered near a lifeguard stand. His heart skips a beat. He grabs his mother’s hand, tugging her in that direction. “There! I think … I think I see her!”

They make their way through the crowd, weaving between the umbrellas and beach chairs. As they get closer, Charles’ heart beats faster, and he barely dares to breathe. And then, finally, he sees you.

You’re sitting on the edge of a bench, a scrape on your knee, a police officer crouched in front of you with a first-aid kit. Your eyes are red, and you look so small, clutching the edge of the bench like it’s your lifeline.

“Y/N!” Charles shouts, breaking into a run.

You look up, and the relief that washes over your face makes his heart soar. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s running up to you, arms wrapping around you tightly. “I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!”

You sniff, burying your face in his shoulder, and for a moment, the two of you just cling to each other, letting the world fall away.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, though your voice wobbles a little.

Charles pulls back just enough to look at your scraped knee, his face scrunched up in worry. “Does it hurt?”

You nod, biting your lip. “A little.”

“I shouldn’t have let go,” he says, voice choked with guilt. “I promised I wouldn’t.”

You reach for his hand, holding it tightly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But he shakes his head, and there’s a fierce determination in his eyes. “I’m never letting go again,” he says, as if the promise itself is enough to keep you safe.

The adults gather around, relieved but still shaken, fussing over you and asking if you’re alright. But for Charles, none of that matters. All he cares about is that you’re here, safe, with his hand in yours.

And this time, he’s never letting go.

***

The sky is a steely gray, heavy with clouds that seem to press down on the earth. There’s a chill in the air, one that makes the hairs on your arms stand up as you stand at the back of the chapel, your hand locked in Charles’. His grip is firm, steady, and you cling to it like it’s the only thing tethering you to the ground.

There’s a silence that fills the chapel, a thick, suffocating silence punctuated only by soft sobs and the occasional clearing of a throat. People fill the pews, faces somber, eyes red-rimmed. Friends, family, teammates — people who loved Jules, people who are hurting. But none of it quite feels real. Like you’re stuck in some strange dream that you can’t wake up from.

Charles squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that’s meant to be soothing. He leans in close, voice barely a whisper. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, eyes fixed on the casket at the front of the room, draped with flowers, a picture of Jules propped up beside it. “No,” you murmur. “I don’t … I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

Charles’ hand tightens around yours. “Me neither.”

The words hang between you, a shared understanding, a grief that you both carry but can’t seem to put into words. You look up at him, at the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes are fixed forward, like he’s afraid to let his emotions show. And yet his hand never leaves yours.

The service begins, a series of voices taking turns, sharing memories, stories that make people laugh, others that draw out quiet tears. You sit through it all, barely moving, your hand clenched in Charles’ so tightly that your fingers start to go numb. But you don’t let go. You can’t let go. Not now.

When it’s time for your parents to speak, you feel yourself tense, fighting back the tears that have been threatening to spill over all morning. Your mother’s voice cracks as she starts, her words halting, her grief so raw it’s like a wound ripped open. You stare down at your lap, feeling the weight of it all press down on your chest.

Charles leans over, voice low and soothing. “If you want to leave, just say the word, alright?”

You shake your head, blinking back tears. “No … I want to stay. I need to stay.”

He nods, pulling you closer, and you feel his arm around your shoulders, warm and steady. “Okay. I’m right here.”

The room blurs, faces and voices blending together. Your mind drifts, memories of Jules flashing through your mind, moments you thought you’d have forever but now feel so achingly out of reach. His laugh, the way he used to ruffle your hair, the way he’d tease you and then instantly apologize whenever he saw you starting to get annoyed. The last time you saw him, hugging him goodbye before he left for his race, the way he promised to bring you back a souvenir from Japan. And now he’s gone, and it feels impossible to wrap your head around.

You glance at Charles, who’s staring ahead, his expression stoic but his eyes filled with pain. He’s hurting, too. You know how close he was with Jules, how much he looked up to his godfather. And somehow, even in his own grief, he’s here, holding you up.

When the service ends, everyone slowly files out of the chapel, moving in a quiet procession to the gravesite. Charles doesn’t let go of your hand, guiding you through the crowd with a quiet determination, shielding you from the sympathetic looks and soft murmurs of condolences.

As you stand by the gravesite, surrounded by people but feeling more alone than ever, Charles keeps you grounded. You barely hear the words the priest is saying, barely register the people around you. All you can focus on is Charles’ hand in yours, his steady presence, the way he keeps glancing over at you, checking to make sure you’re okay.

And then, the moment comes. Charles takes a deep breath, his hand slipping from yours for the first time since you arrived at the chapel. He gives you a look, one that’s filled with so much understanding and pain and strength that it nearly breaks you all over again.

“I have to go,” he says softly, his voice choked.

You nod, even though you don’t want him to leave. “I know.”

He hesitates, looking at you like he wants to say something more, but the words seem to catch in his throat. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers. “I promise.”

And then he’s gone, moving to join the other men, their faces grim as they prepare to carry the casket. You watch as they lift it, your heart twisting with every step they take, each one a reminder of the finality of it all. It’s real now, in a way that it wasn’t before.

Jules is really gone.

You stand there, watching as they carry him to his final resting place, feeling like your heart is breaking into a million pieces. Tears blur your vision, and you quickly wipe them away, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no hiding from the pain.

When they lower the casket into the ground, you feel a fresh wave of grief wash over you. It’s like losing him all over again, like the wound has been ripped open and there’s no way to stop the bleeding. You cover your mouth, a sob escaping despite your best efforts.

And then, suddenly, Charles is there again, slipping his hand back into yours, pulling you close. His own eyes are red, his face streaked with tears he can no longer hold back. He wraps his arm around you, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there, clinging to each other, letting the grief wash over you.

You bury your face in his shoulder, letting yourself cry, letting yourself feel the full weight of it all. Charles holds you tightly, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You don’t know how long you stand like that, lost in the pain, but eventually, the crowd starts to disperse, people offering quiet words of sympathy before leaving. You barely register any of it, your focus entirely on Charles, on the way he keeps holding you, grounding you.

When it’s just the two of you left by the gravesite, Charles finally pulls back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He looks at you, his expression soft but filled with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I don’t have the right words for this.”

You shake your head, your own voice barely a whisper. “There aren’t any right words.”

He nods, swallowing hard, and then, after a moment, he takes your hand again. “Do you want to sit? Or … walk?”

“Walk, I think,” you say, your voice shaky.

He leads you away from the gravesite, his hand still holding yours, and the two of you walk in silence for a while, the weight of the day pressing down on you like a physical thing. The cemetery is quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the wind, and you let the calmness settle over you, soothing some of the ache in your chest.

After a while, Charles speaks, his voice soft. “I miss him too, you know.”

You look up at him, surprised. “I know.”

He hesitates, looking down at his feet. “I looked up to him. He was … I don’t know. He was like a second big brother.”

You nod, understanding completely. “He was the best. He always made everything seem … possible.”

Charles smiles, a bittersweet expression that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. He did.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, letting the silence fill the space between you. And then Charles lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours. “I’m not going anywhere, you know. I’m here. For whatever you need.”

You feel a fresh wave of tears prick at your eyes, but this time, it’s not just from grief. There’s something else there, something warmer, something that feels like hope.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He nods, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gentle, comforting way. “We’ll get through this,” he says quietly. “Together.”

And somehow, standing there with Charles, his hand in yours, you believe him.

***

The paddock buzzes with energy — the sound of engines mixing with the hum of reporters and the fast-paced clatter of team members shuffling between garages. The air is thick with the scent of fuel, rubber, and anticipation. But for all the excitement and all the people around, Charles only seems to have eyes for you.

He’s been gripping your hand tightly since you both walked through the gates, his eyes flicking nervously over every inch of the bustling scene as if he’s trying to take it all in at once.

“You okay?” You ask, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quickly, but his voice betrays him, a touch higher than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “Charles …”

“What? I am,” he insists, flashing you a grin that’s a little too bright, a little too quick. “I mean … you’re okay, right?” His tone shifts, softer, more concerned. “I know how you get sometimes with all the noise and people.”

You almost laugh but hold back, letting him keep up the charade. “I’m fine.”

He glances around, still keeping a firm grip on your hand as he leads you down the paddock walk. “I just don’t want you to be … I don’t know, uncomfortable or something. This place is … chaotic.”

You glance at him, taking in the way his jaw is clenched, his brows drawn together. “I think I’ll manage,” you say, your tone soft, teasing. “If anything, I think you might be the one who’s a little uncomfortable.”

His head jerks up, and he looks at you with wide eyes, feigning innocence. “Me? Uncomfortable? No, not at all.”

You smile, brushing a thumb over the back of his hand. “Good to know, because I’d hate for you to be nervous or anything.”

He clears his throat, casting a quick glance around as if looking for a way to escape the conversation. “Well, I’m not,” he says, his voice firm, though he still refuses to let go of your hand. “I’m just … making sure you’re okay.”

“Of course you are,” you say, unable to hold back your grin.

He leads you toward his team’s hospitality suite, and you can see the Alfa Romeo logo emblazoned on the side. He hesitates at the door, glancing at you as if he’s not sure if he should go in or not.

“I’ll be right here,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand again.

He nods, but instead of letting go, he steps closer, looking down at you with that soft, serious expression that makes your heart skip a beat. “Promise you won’t go anywhere?”

You tilt your head, amused. “Where would I even go?”

“I don’t know. Just … promise.”

“Promise.”

That seems to settle him, at least a little. He takes a deep breath, nodding to himself before pushing the door open and leading you inside. The room is a hive of activity — strategists and engineers clustered around screens, mechanics talking in low voices as they discuss parts and plans.

“Charles! You made it!” A tall man with a headset and clipboard hurries over, offering him a firm handshake. “Ready for your first big day?”

Charles nods, but his hand tightens around yours again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.”

The man’s eyes flicker to you, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ah, and who do we have here?”

Charles glances at you, then back at the man, standing a little straighter. “This is Y/N,” he says, his voice filled with a quiet pride. “She’s … she’s here with me.”

“Ah, got it,” the man says, giving you a polite nod. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Quite a day to be here, huh?”

You nod, giving a small smile. “It’s definitely … exciting.”

Charles looks at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, she’s a bit nervous, so … I thought it’d be good if she could stick around.”

You bite back a smile, deciding not to correct him. If he wants to pretend that you’re the one with nerves jangling out of control, you’ll let him. “You’re very thoughtful, Charles.”

He grins, looking relieved, as if your words have eased some hidden weight off his shoulders. “Well, someone’s got to keep you calm, right?”

The team member chuckles, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You’re in good hands, then.”

As the man walks away, Charles pulls you closer, lowering his voice. “See? I told you I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand, letting him believe his little fiction for now. He needs this, you can tell — needs you here, needs the quiet reassurance of your presence.

He leads you through the paddock, his grip on your hand never faltering. Every so often, he pauses to introduce you to someone, his voice filled with a quiet pride each time he says, “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

You smile and nod, feeling the warmth in his words, the way he seems to draw strength from saying them out loud. Each introduction, each little moment, seems to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

Eventually, you make your way to the garage, where his car is waiting, sleek and gleaming under the bright lights. Charles stops in his tracks, his gaze fixed on the car, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and nerves.

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You look up at him, watching the way his expression shifts, the excitement and fear flickering across his face. “You okay?”

He nods slowly, not taking his eyes off the car. “Yeah … yeah, I am.”

For a moment, he seems lost in thought, his hand loosening in yours as he stares at the car. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, he turns to you, his expression softening. “Can you stay right here? I just … need to check something real quick.”

“Of course,” you say, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

He steps forward, reaching out to touch the car, his fingers brushing over the cool metal. You watch as he takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling, and you can almost feel the weight of his emotions — this dream he’s been chasing for so long, finally within reach.

After a few minutes, he turns back to you, his face a little calmer, a little more settled. He walks over, taking your hand again without a word, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For being here. For … everything.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Always.”

He nods, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“You’d be fine, Charles,” you say, nudging him playfully. “But I’m glad you want me here.”

He chuckles, his fingers threading through yours. “I’d probably be a wreck without you.”

You both stand there for a moment, letting the quiet settle around you. And then, suddenly, one of his engineers approaches, clipboard in hand, looking a little flustered.

“Charles, we need you in the strategy meeting. Now.”

Charles tenses, his grip on your hand tightening. “Right … okay.”

The engineer hesitates, his gaze flickering to you. “It’s … it’s a closed meeting. I’m sorry, but your guest can’t come in.”

Charles’ face falls, a slight pout forming as he looks down at you, his expression almost pleading. “But … she’s with me.”

The team member shifts uncomfortably. “I understand, but it’s policy. Only team members and essential personnel.”

Charles’ pout deepens, his eyes fixed on the man. “But she’s … she’s my good luck charm. And besides, she’s nervous.”

You stifle a laugh, watching as Charles’ pout turns into a full-fledged puppy-dog look. It’s so endearing, and clearly, the team member is wavering.

“Please?” Charles says, his voice soft, almost childlike. “Just this once?”

The team member sighs, glancing between you and Charles before finally relenting. “Fine. But she has to sign a confidentiality agreement. A dozen of them, actually.”

Charles’ face lights up, and he turns to you, grinning. “See? You get to come with me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Well, if I’m signing my life away…”

He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Thank you.”

Together, you follow the team member into the conference room, where a stack of paperwork awaits. Charles never lets go of your hand, even as you pick up the pen, signing each NDA with his fingers intertwined with yours.

As you finish the last signature, Charles looks at you, his eyes filled with a quiet, grateful warmth. “Now we’re ready,” he says softly, his voice steady, sure.

And as you walk into the meeting room together, hand in hand, you know that, no matter what happens out on the track, you’ll be by his side — just as you’ve always been.

***

The lights pulse in dizzying shades of blue and red, the music thrumming deep enough to shake the walls of the crowded club. The place is packed — friends, family, team members, strangers all shoulder to shoulder, all there for one reason: to celebrate Charles’ win at the Monaco Grand Prix. His first home victory. The energy is electric, and the night feels like a dream he’s been waiting his whole life to have.

Charles is beside you, his arm draped heavily around your shoulders, his hand gripping yours like he’ll lose himself if he lets go. His eyes are bright, and his laughter fills the air as he turns to you for the hundredth time tonight.

“Can you believe it?” He shouts over the music, eyes wide, dazed with disbelief and the effects of far too many celebratory drinks. “We did it! I did it!”

“You did, Charles!” You say, grinning up at him, matching his energy. “You won Monaco. Your home race!”

He lets out a roar of joy, pulling you close, swaying unsteadily as he laughs. “Home race!” He echoes, like he’s trying to savor the words, rolling them over his tongue. “Did you see it, though? Did you see it happen?”

“I saw it,” you assure him, laughing. “I think everyone saw it!”

He laughs, a sound so bright it’s almost childlike, and then he leans close, lowering his voice like he’s about to share a secret with you. “I really thought I’d never get it, you know? It’s Monaco. It’s just … Monaco.”

You squeeze his hand. “You deserved this one. More than anyone else.”

He tilts his head, considering your words, his gaze unfocused but sincere. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you say, your voice strong enough to cut through the noise, and he nods, satisfied, the smile on his face softer now, less manic.

But then someone calls his name from across the room, and Charles is yanked back into the whirlwind. He lifts his drink — something fizzy and definitely too strong — and waves it around with a cheer. The crowd erupts in applause, chanting his name like he’s royalty.

“Charles! Charles! Charles!”

He takes a deep gulp of his drink, wincing as he swallows, then laughs, shaking his head as if he can’t believe any of this is real. “All these people …” he mutters, glancing at you with a slightly drunken smile. “Do they even know me? Really?”

You chuckle, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “I think they know you well enough to celebrate. Besides,” you tease, “I’m here. That should be enough, right?”

“More than enough,” he says, his gaze fixed on you, intense even in his inebriated state. “You’re … you’re the reason I’m even here.”

You laugh, brushing it off, but he shakes his head, suddenly serious.

“No, really.” His words are slurred but sincere. “You — remember all those times I thought I’d never make it? You were there. And now look at us. Monaco! My Monaco.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words, the affection that cuts through the chaos of the club. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grins, his face lighting up like he’s just won all over again. “Say that again.”

“I’m so proud of you, Charles.”

He beams, then tugs you closer, spinning you in a clumsy half-circle that nearly sends both of you toppling over. “You’re coming with me, always. Even if I’m-” He fumbles for words, laughing. “Even if I’m old and can’t drive anymore. You’re coming with me.”

“Wherever you go,” you say softly, humoring him as he wobbles, leaning his full weight against you.

“Wherever I go,” he repeats, nodding as if this is the most important promise he’s ever made. He glances down at your joined hands, lifting them for a moment as if to check they’re still there. Then, just as quickly, he clutches them to his chest. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?”

“You’ve told me,” you say, laughing. “Probably about fifty times tonight.”

“Then fifty-one,” he declares, raising your hand like he’s holding a trophy. “You’re my good luck charm!”

“Okay, Charles,” you say, glancing around at the curious looks people are starting to give you. “Maybe a little less shouting?”

He scoffs, his face scrunching up in indignation. “Shouting? I’m not shouting!” Then he laughs at himself, realizing he’s practically yelling.

You shake your head, laughing as he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “But really,” he murmurs, his voice dropping. “Thank you for everything. I wouldn’t have done any of this without you.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel your throat tighten, emotions welling up. But before you can respond, someone else is clapping him on the back, dragging him back into the raucous celebration. He goes willingly, laughing as he lifts his drink again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand — not for a second.

People congratulate him, hug him, raise their glasses in his honor, and through it all, he keeps glancing over at you, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re still there, that this night, this victory, isn’t a dream he’ll wake up from.

“Charles!” An old friend shouts, clinking his glass against Charles’. “How’s it feel to finally win your home race?”

Charles laughs, tipping his head back. “Feels amazing! Like … like nothing else!”

Another friend chimes in, “And you’ve got the best date to celebrate with, huh?” He winks at you, raising his glass.

Charles nods, his grin widening as he wraps an arm around you, his hand still holding yours. “The very best,” he says proudly, his words a little slurred. “Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you just smile, squeezing his hand. “I’m lucky to be here with you.”

He laughs, leaning in so close that his forehead brushes yours. “Not as lucky as me.”

And then, in one swift, impulsive move, he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. It’s sweet and almost innocent, and despite the noisy club, it feels like a quiet, private moment just between the two of you.

He looks at you, eyes soft, the drunken haze giving his expression a kind of unguarded warmth. “Promise me something?”

You nod. “Anything.”

“Promise you’ll be with me next year, too. For the next Monaco. And the next … and the one after that.”

You laugh, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “That’s all I need. Just you … and Monaco.”

You chuckle, wrapping an arm around him to keep him steady. “And maybe a bit of sleep.”

He groans, shaking his head. “Sleep? No, no … we have to … keep celebrating! I mean, it’s Monaco!”

But despite his protests, his eyelids are starting to droop, his body leaning more heavily against you.

“Charles,” you say gently, guiding him to a quieter corner of the club. “Maybe we can take a little break?”

He mumbles something incoherent, his head resting on your shoulder, his hand still holding yours in a loose but unbreakable grip. Even in his exhaustion, he refuses to let go, as if the victory, the night, everything will disappear if he loosens his hold.

“Just … five minutes,” he mutters, his voice soft. “Then … more dancing.”

You smile, brushing a gentle hand over his hair. “Five minutes.”

But as he drifts off, his breathing evening out, you know he won’t be getting up for any more dancing tonight. He’s given everything — his heart, his soul, his strength — to this race, and now, finally, he’s at peace.

You sit there with him, holding his hand, listening to the muffled thrum of the music, and you realize that, in his own way, he’s won more than just a race. He’s found a sense of belonging, of fulfillment, a piece of himself he’d been chasing for so long.

And as you sit together, the noise of the club fading into the background, you feel that same sense of peace. You’re here, with him, exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

The hospital room feels impossibly small, filled with sounds of beeping monitors, the hum of the fluorescent lights, and the murmured voices of nurses and doctors. But for you, it’s all a blur — just flashes of movement and noise as you lie there, clutching Charles’ hand like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

His grip is firm, steady. He’s been by your side since the contractions started hours ago, and now, with each excruciating wave of pain, he tightens his hold, murmuring to you softly, his words meant only for you.

“Breathe,” he says quietly, as if he can breathe for you. “You’re doing amazing.”

You grit your teeth, feeling another contraction start to build, a pressure so intense it’s as if your entire body is caught in its grip. “This doesn’t … feel amazing,” you manage to say, your voice strained.

Charles chuckles softly, though you can see the tension in his eyes, the worry that’s been there since you first squeezed his hand, hours ago. “I know,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “But you are. I promise.”

You close your eyes, focusing on his words, on the warmth of his hand in yours. For a moment, it distracts you, gives you something to hold onto in the midst of the pain. But then the contraction peaks, and you’re squeezing his hand so hard you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, the pain so intense it’s blinding. “I’m so sorry … your hand-”

He just shakes his head, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “I’m fine,” he says, his voice gentle. “Just focus on you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to stay,” you say, half-laughing, half-crying as the contraction finally starts to ease. “You can go … take a break or something.”

His expression softens, and he leans in close, his eyes locked on yours. “Are you kidding? You think I’d leave you now?”

You shake your head, managing a breathless laugh. “I don’t know how you’re not terrified.”

“Oh, I am,” he admits with a grin, glancing at the nurse nearby, who raises an amused eyebrow. “But you’re stronger than me. I have to keep up.”

The nurse chuckles softly, patting you on the shoulder. “You’re in the home stretch now, almost there. Just a little longer.”

“A little longer,” you echo, glancing at Charles, trying to find the strength to keep going. “Okay … I can do that.”

He nods, his hand never loosening from yours. “Of course you can. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Another contraction hits, and the pain tears through you like fire. You can feel your grip on his hand tighten again, your nails digging into his skin. “I’m sorry,” you gasp, but it’s all you can manage. The pain is blinding, all-consuming.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away. “Don’t apologize,” he murmurs, his voice calm, steady. “You hold on as tight as you need to.”

“Charles …” Your voice is choked, and you can feel tears prickling at your eyes. “This … this is …”

“I know,” he whispers, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “But you’re doing it. You’re so close.”

The doctor speaks softly to you, offering encouragement, but all you can focus on is the feel of Charles’ hand in yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. He’s been there through everything — every fear, every doubt — and now, here he is again, steady, unwavering.

Another contraction builds, and this time it’s different. The pressure feels like it’s reaching its breaking point, like something’s about to give. You squeeze his hand harder than ever, and he leans in, his forehead resting against yours as he murmurs, “Just a little longer. You’ve got this.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his breath, the feel of his hand, and push with everything you have. The room fills with noise — your own cries, the encouraging voices around you — and then, finally, there’s a new sound. A tiny, piercing wail that cuts through everything.

You open your eyes, gasping, and see the doctor holding a small, wriggling bundle. Charles’ hand is still in yours, his face pale, his eyes wide with something like awe as he stares at the baby. “Is that …”

“That’s your son,” the nurse says, beaming as she places the little bundle in your arms.

You’re exhausted, every muscle in your body aching, but as you look down at the tiny face, your heart swells with a love so fierce it’s almost painful. You glance up at Charles, tears shining in your eyes, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Look at him,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. “Just … look.”

You nod, a tear slipping down your cheek as you cradle the baby close, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. You glance down, realizing you’re still clutching his hand in a death grip. “I think … I nearly broke your hand,” you say, laughing softly, tears blurring your vision.

Charles laughs, glancing down at your intertwined fingers, his own knuckles white from the pressure. “I’d let you do it a thousand times over,” he says softly, his voice filled with all the love and pride in the world. “For this moment … I’d happily let you.”

[6qubed]

to quote Harry Loman; elon musk is liked, but he is not well liked. and I think he knows that. and I think it eats him up inside

As Elon Musk cements his place in history as a fascist tech overlord and the rest of the world looks at us in horror, I really do want to reiterate what I feel will be lost to the history books

Nearly everyone in america has thought and continues to think that Elon is very cringe.

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ FAT ASS LIKE HERS NEEDS A REAL MAN TO FUCK IT. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you get tangled up with your boyfriend's arrogant, infuriating, and devastatingly hot rival, katsuki bakugou and ended up fucking... one too many times.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x enemy's girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: cheating on yo shindo, cheating with katsuki bakugo, body worship, implied mentions of anal sex, oral sex (f! receiving, face riding), manhandling, penetrative / p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

note: usage of "sweetheart", "pretty", "pretty girl", "sweets", fem reader, implied plus size! reader, mean! katsuki, katsuki calls reader fat but not really (specifically, reader's ass), (hopefully) promoting body positivity. really thought this song gave katsuki vibes and havent seen a fic based off of it yet. reminds me of that montoya guy watching his girl fuck someone on camera lmao😭. time to give back to my community, hope you guys enjoy💜

╰┈➤ [katsuki bakugo was an asshole.] everyone knew that. and when it came to shindo yo, he was even worse. the two had never gotten along—never would. 

which was exactly why, when katsuki walked into the bar and spotted you, nursing a drink, frustration etched across your face, he couldn’t help but smirk.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. probably your boyfriend getting a little too damn close to another "friend" again. just like always. this wasn’t the first time, and knowing him, it wouldn’t be the last.

this was the kind of moment he lived for, a rare opportunity to get under shindo’s skin. sure, maybe katsuki didn’t hate shindo that much, but you? you were a different story.

he sauntered over, leaning an arm against the counter, eyes never leaving you. "rough night?"

you glanced up, instantly recognizing the pro hero standing beside you. with a sigh, you swirled your drink in its glass. “you could say that.”

“lemme guess... your idiot boyfriend givin’ you trouble again?”

“…something like that.”

“don’t know why you put up with him, honestly," he chuckled, the sound low and knowing. he tipped his drink toward you, watching your reaction carefully. "you deserve better than some asshole who doesn’t know how to appreciate you.”

your lips quirked, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “and you think you can appreciate me?”

katsuki had no shame, never did. so he grinned, a flicker of something dangerous in his crimson gaze.

"want me to show you, sweetheart?"

one thing led to another and soon enough— you were in his bed, limbs tangled, gasping his name, making sure you see the stars in the sky as he fucked the frustration right out of you.

and after that night, fucking you became katsuki's favorite way to piss shindo off.

you weren’t stupid. you knew exactly what this was. but did you care? not one damn bit. he had you in his bed more than your shitty boyfriend ever did. and yeah, maybe it started as a way to get under shindo’s skin, but somewhere along the way, it became something neither of you wanted to stop.

because katsuki? he was fucking obsessed with you.  

some nights, he’d pull you into his lap, hands splayed over your hips as he buried his face in your neck, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

“fuck, i missed you,” he groaned, voice thick with something dangerously close to vulnerability. his grip tighten, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. “shouldn’t let you leave my bed, y’know that?”

you chuckled, tilting your head back as his lips trailed lower. “you’re never satisfied, huh?”

“so what?” he nipped at your skin, making you squeak. “i like my woman soft. more of you for me to grab.”

and grab he did. he was clingy in the worst way—always needing to have a hand on you, whether it was squeezing your ass, gripping your waist, or just absentmindedly tracing patterns on your thigh while you laid in bed together.

katsuki just loved how you felt in his hands.

then there are the nights when he'd lie with his head on your lap, letting you comb your fingers through his hair, one arm thrown lazily over his chest.

his eyes were shut, his expression relaxed, but every so often, his brows furrowed as he grumbled about his day.

like now.

“dumbass intern nearly blew up my whole damn office,” he muttered, eyes closed. “and kirishima kept laughin’ like it was the funniest shit he’d ever seen.”

you hummed, dragging your nails lightly over his scalp. “i mean… you do blow things up all the time. bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

his eyes cracked open, leveling you with a glare. “tch. ain’t funny.”

you bit back a smile. “a little funny.”

he exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t argue. he never really did when you played with his hair. it was his weakness, and he hated that you knew it.

your fingers trailed down to his jaw, tracing the sharp edge. he leaned into your touch instinctively, like it was second nature. and maybe it was.

“you’re really pretty, you know that?” you murmured.

his eyes flickered open again, red irises locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze—something so raw and vulnerable.

“oi,” he muttered, shifting slightly, ears turning pink. “quit it.”

you grinned. “quit what?”

“saying dumb shit like that.”

“but it’s true.”

katsuki scowled, but the way he pressed his cheek into your palm gave him away. he huffed, eyes slipping shut again.

“…whatever.”

and he loved it. the times he's spent with you, whether he was fucking you or just talking about each other's day, he loved all of it. not just because it was a middle finger to shindo, but because katsuki got to have you all to himself. 

honestly? it stopped being about shindo a long time ago. but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rub it in the bastard’s face.

"she was beggin’ me to keep goin’ last night," katsuki bragged, arm slung lazily around your waist, knowing full well that shindō was fuming. his hand drifted lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass. “bet you don’t even know how to handle all this ass, huh? shame. guess that’s why she keeps crawlin’ back to me.”

shindo clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what katsuki was implying. he knew. knew there was truth in katsuki’s words. knew that every time he and you argued, you’d disappear for a while, only to return looking a little too satisfied. "you really think you're some upgrade?"  

"she does. especially when she’s whining my name into the sheets.”  

"shut the fuck up, bakugo."  

katsuki barked a laugh, shameless and sharp. he was pissed, good. that was the reaction he wanted. but he wasn’t done yet.

“she’s a greedy lil’ thing, too. always wantin’ more," he grinned, eyes flicking over to him before locking back at yours. "but look at her. how could i say no? she looks so fuckin’ perfect under me."

your face burns, heat creeping up your neck before he scoffs and turns back to grilling your ex, like you weren’t just standing there, completely flustered.

"did she ever tell you how much she loves it when i grab these—" his fingers trailed down your side, giving a firm squeeze and earning a small yelp from you. "—and i slam my dick into her? fuck her real nice and deep? moans so pretty for me, too. you ever heard it?"

and if shindo so much as opened his mouth, katsuki would throw in another dig.

"nah. probably not. bet she asked you if it was in yet.”  

"well, she's all yours," shindo said, fists clenching, clearly seconds away from punching him. and katsuki lived for it.  

"yeah, figured you’d say that," katsuki taunted. "she’s been stress eatin’ too much to deal with a weak-ass like you."  

and then, just because he was an absolute bastard, he'd go in for the kill.

"fat ass like hers needs a real man to fuck it."  

shindo looked about ready to swing, but you pulled katsuki away before things got too messy.  you could still feel the heat of shindo’s rage burning through the air. it thrilled you more than it should have. 

but behind closed doors? the same man who ran his mouth would spend hours pressed against you, whispering things he’d never admit to anyone else.

"c’mere," katsuki grumbled, tugging you onto the bed after another long day of antagonizing your ex. his arms wrapped around your waist, face immediately pressing into your soft stomach.

he worshipped you—every inch, every soft curve, but nothing captivated him more than your stomach.

he was obsessed, utterly entranced. he’d bury his face against it, his hands kneaded your sides, gripping, squeezing—memorizing, pressing lazy kisses to every dip and curve. he held your body with a reverence that bordered on possessive, like he was terrified you’d slip away.

"fuck, baby," he groaned, nuzzling into you like he wanted to disappear into your skin. “love your body so goddamn much. s’perfect.”

you chuckled, threading your fingers through his hair. "thought you said i was stress-eating."  

"yeah, stress-eatin’ on my dick," he muttered, pressing kisses against your tummy. "he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you."

“then why do you still do it, hmm?”

he looked up at you, red eyes dark with something almost desperate as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

"tch, you know why i do that. pisses him off. makes him realize he ain't shit. ‘cause he ain't."  

you shivered at the heat of his lips against your skin, biting back a smile as you run your fingers through his hair. so that’s what this was about. "you sure you’re not just obsessed with him at this point?”

he scoffed against your stomach, his grip on your waist tightening. “the hell i am. only thing i’m obsessed with is you.”

it was the side of him no one else got to see— the way he nuzzled into you, the way he pressed his lips to your skin over and over, like he couldn’t get enough. he'd grumble if you tried to move, holding you tighter to keep you in bed, murmuring "stay here. wanna hold ya."  

he loved how soft you were, how warm—how no matter how much he grabbed, squeezed, or traced his fingers over you, it was never enough. he needed you. it was like he was drunk on the feel of you, the scent of you. and truthfully, he was.

"love this shit,” he admitted lowly, voice thick with something almost vulnerable. he nuzzled into your tummy again, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh. "could live here."

you raised a brow, fighting back a grin as you looked down at him. “oh? you wanna live on my stomach now?”

“yes, baby,” he muttered almost desperately, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction while pressing another lingering kiss to your skin. “soft. warm. smells like you.”

you laughed, dragging your fingers through his hair. “so what, you’re gonna quit being a hero and move in here?”

he let out a gruff chuckle, turning his head to rest his cheek against you. “tch. would if i could. wouldn’t need a bed, a couch, nothin’. just this perfect spot.”

“oh yeah?” you hummed, tilting your head. “should i start charging you rent?”

he huffed against your skin. “tch. smartass.”

you giggled, brushing a thumb over the shell of his ear. “i mean, if you’re gonna move in, might as well contribute. utilities, groceries… maybe even a tummy tax.”

his red eyes flicked up at you, narrowing. “the fuck is a tummy tax?”

you grinned. “unlimited kisses. daily.”

he snorts, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “already payin’ for that, pretty."

and you laughed, because for all his big talk, katsuki bakugo adored you. as long as he had you, nothing else mattered.

and despite the way he ran his mouth, he never let you feel insecure. if he ever caught you looking at yourself too long in the mirror, he’d grab you and pull you onto the bed, hovering over you with that intense, fiery gaze.  

"the fuck are you thinkin’ about?" he’d demand, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing, leaving marks. "you’re mine. this body? all mine. and i fuckin’ love every inch of you. don’t ever fuckin’ doubt how much i want you."

and god, did he prove it.

he didn't just tolerate your body—he adored it. and thats why you found yourself looking down at him lying comfortably on his back, eyes dark with anticipation. he was waiting—no, expecting—you to sit on his face.

you shake your head, heat creeping up your neck. "i can just lay down, 'suki..."

katsuki scoffs, sitting up slightly, his hands already reaching for your thighs, clearly impatient. "tch. and deny me a great view? cut the crap and get up here, sweets."

you shake your head again. "i just- what if i’m too heavy?"

he lets out a sharp, exasperated scoff. "for who? me? well that’s rude."

"it’s not..." you hesitate for half a second, but that’s all the time he gives you. 

he yanks you down onto his face with a low growl, his mouth immediately sealing over your cunt. "stop stallin’ and just give me what i want..."

you hesitate, subtly hovering just above him instead of lowering yourself onto his face, holding onto the headboard for support. his eyes flick up to yours, and the second he realizes what you're doing, his expression darkens.

"the fuck do you think you’re doin’?" his grip on your thighs tightens, his voice a low, dangerous growl. 

“i don’t want to crush you—”

“are you fuckin’ serious?” his voice drips with pure offense, like you just insulted his entire existence. "you really think i can't handle you? think you're doin’ me a favor by holdin’ back?"

you try to protest, but he’s already yanking you down on his face, forcing you to sit properly. his growl vibrates against you as he buries his face between your thighs. the way he looked up at you—pissed off and starving—sent a shiver down your spine.

your face burned, heart pounding in your chest. "i just— i don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

katsuki let out a sharp laugh, the sound vibrating against your folds, lifting you by your hips to give him room to speak from time to time. 

"uncomfortable? sweetheart, the only thing makin’ me uncomfortable right now is you not sittin’ on my goddamn face like i told you to."

your lips parted in protest, but a startled moan escapes you as his tongue flicks over your clit, sharp and demanding. his grip on your thighs is punishing, locking you in place as he devours you with obscene hunger.

"katsuki—" you try to lift yourself, but his hands hold you firm.

"nah. shut up," he murmurs burying his tongue between your thighs without warning. a moan escapes you as he groans against your heat, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you firmly in place. 

"fuckin’ ridiculous," he mutters between licks, voice muffled. "ain’t takin’ this disrespect. you ain't doin’ me no favors by holdin’ back. told ya before— i want you—every fuckin’ inch of you." 

your breath hitches, and katsuki smirks like he knows he’s got you. his crimson eyes flicked up at you, glinting with mischief as he devoured the fuck out of your pretty little cunt, tongue glazed with his spit and your slick. 

"so don't you ever pull that hoverin’ shit again,” he warns, his tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds "or i swear to god, i'll make you sit here all fuckin' night—"

his words were cut off by the way he devoured you, lips and tongue working so hungrily that your legs nearly gave out then and there. his crimson eyes burned into you, daring you to try that shit again.

you whimper, thighs trembling, and he doubles down, tongue curling inside you before dragging back up to your clit, sucking just to hear you whine.

"fuck, baby," he groans against you, his voice thick with need. "taste so fuckin’ good."

your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on the soft strands, but it only spurs him on. his hands slide to your ass, forcing you to take everything he gave you. he’s lost in it, completely drowning in you, and he likes it. loves it. wants more. 

"you drive me fuckin’ insane," he murmured, sucking your clit into his mouth with a filthy slurp. "you’re too damn perfect, and it pisses me off."  

your fingers tightened around the headboard, thighs trembling around his head. “how is that my fault? you're the one who—"

katsuki let out a frustrated growl against your cunt, cutting you off before you could finish. without warning, he flattened his tongue and dragged a slow, deliberate lick through your folds, making you gasp.

"its your fucking fault," he went on like he couldn’t believe you had the audacity to act so damn innocent.

his lips brush against your pussy as your legs threatened to close around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping you spread open for him. "prancin’ around, bein’ so goddamn pretty. takin’ up space in my head. gettin’ under my fuckin' skin and you expect me to act normal?"

you tried to answer, but he didn’t give you the chance. a sharp suck on your clit had your head tipping back, a needy whine escaping before you could stop it. his tongue slid through your folds again, swirling around your clit, and the sudden sensation made you choke on your words.

"katsuki—"

"nah. told you to shut up." he cut you off, voice muffled against your dripping cunt. "if you're gonna talk, you can fuckin’ moan."

your noises only spurred him on. your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping tightly as pleasure pooled in your stomach. his tongue worked you over with precision, switching between sucking and licking until your hips were rolling into his face, chasing more. 

"that's it," he muttered, sucking your clit into his mouth again, hard, and the moan that tore from your throat was anything but coherent, fucking you with his tongue. "you wanna run your mouth? do it like this." 

you could barely form a response, your mind going blank as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue relentless. the only thing that left your lips was a desperate, broken moan.

"fuckin' knew it," he groaned, his voice sending another wave of heat through your body. "knew you’d sound so fuckin' pretty when you just shut the fuck up while riding my face. could watch you like this all fuckin’ day."

you let out a shaky breath, barely able to focus as his tongue flicked over your clit again. katsuki pulled back just enough to suck in a breath, his lips slick and glistening with your arousal. his crimson eyes burned into you, half-lidded and desperate, but still sharp with command.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice thick with hunger. “touch yourself, pretty girl. play with those pretty tits for me.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you hesitated, already feeling overwhelmed by the way he was devouring you. but his grip tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh in warning.

“c’mon, sweets,” he rasped, his tongue flicking out to tease your clit before pulling back again. his eyes dragged up your body, the heat in them making you dizzy. “be a good girl and gimme a show, yeah?"

with trembling hands, you reached up, cupping your tits, teasing your own nipples the way you knew he liked. you kneaded them softly at first, rolling your thumbs over your nipples, but the second you pinched them, katsuki groaned, his eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing in existence.

“fuck yeah,” he muttered, running his tongue through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth again. “just like that, baby. play with those tits— keep puttin’ on a show for me while i eat this pretty little pussy.”

his tongue worked you over with hungry, unrelenting strokes, the obscene slurps and groans vibrating against you as he devoured you like a man starved.

you tugged at your nipples, your head falling back as pleasure rippled through you. your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around your nipples as the combination of your own hands on your body and his mouth wrecking you from below had your head spinning.

“katsuki—” you gasped, thighs trembling around his head. “i’m— i’m close.”

that was all it took. katsuki groaned deep in his throat, the sound vibrating against your cunt as his grip on your thighs tightened. his tongue worked even faster, flicking and circling your clit with devastating precision, like he needed you to fall apart for him or he'd die.

"yeah?" he rasped between licks, his voice thick and wrecked. "then fuckin’ give it to me, sweets. wanna feel you cum on my face."

he didn’t slow down, didn’t let up for even a second. his hands urged you down harder, forcing you to really sit on his face, and the pressure—his tongue, his mouth, the way he sucked on your clit—sent you careening straight into your orgasm.

your back arched, a broken moan spilling from your lips as pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. katsuki groaned against you like he felt it, like he was the one cumming, and he didn’t stop licking, didn’t stop devouring you, even as you trembled above him.

he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with your slick as he sucked in a breath, eyes dark with hunger. he gave your thighs one last squeeze before gripping your waist.

“get up."

you blinked down at him, still trying to catch your breath. “what?”

“i said, get up,” he growled. "need to be inside you. now.”

you whined, shaking your head weakly. “katsuki, i just— i just came…”

“and?” he scoffed, sitting up slightly. “the fuck that got to do with me?”

before you could protest again, his strong arms moved, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing. a surprised yelp left your lips, but katsuki was already on top of you, pressing you into the mattress, his body burning hot against yours with his lips on yours.

"don't care if you just came," he muttered against your lips, biting down on your bottom one before sucking it into his mouth. "wanna feel you squeeze the cum outta me this time."

your head spun as he hovered over you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. his hands were everywhere—gripping, kneading—like he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

"katsuki—"

"shut up," he growled, shoving your legs open with his knee. "you think i’m lettin’ you off that easy? nah. you got one, and now i’m gettin’ mine.”

you gasped as his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them, his cock already hard and leaking against your folds. he positioned himself at your pussy, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against you.

"look at you," he murmured, rubbing his throbbing tip through your slick folds. "all fuckin’ messy for me already."

you gasped, legs twitching from overstimulation. “i— i need a second—”

“the fuck you do,” he muttered, lining himself up with your entrance. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. you’re fine.”

and before you could say another word, he thrusted into you, stretching you open in one slow, deep stroke.

"don't care what the fuck you say," he rasps. "bein’ so fuckin’ sweet, it makes me wanna ruin you."

your hands scrambled against his shoulders, nails digging in as you let out a choked sob, overwhelmed, tears pricking at your eyes as he kept moving, his cock dragging against your already-sensitive walls. “k-katsuki—'s too much—”

he didn't stop. didn't even hesitate. he knew better. knew you. if it was really too much, if you truly couldn’t take it, you would’ve said the safe word. and since you hadn’t? that meant you loved this—loved how he was using you, pushing you past your limits, making you take every inch of him.

“yeah? then why’s this pussy still fuckin’ suckin’ me in, huh?” he leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “you know what to say if you really wanted me to stop, sweets.”

you whimpered, blinking up at him, your face hot and damp with tears. your breath hitched when he rolled his hips deeper, making your back arch off the bed.

“you like it, don’t you?” he murmured, dragging his lips along your cheek, tasting the tears running down your face. his hands pinned your wrists down beside your head, locking you in place beneath him. “fuckin’ cryin’ and takin’ my dick so good anyway. knew you’d let me use this sweet little pussy however the fuck i wanted.”

your body shook with every thrust, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but the pleasure was so sharp and dizzying, that all you could do was moan through the tears. you sobbed, back arching, hands clutching at the sheets. it was too much, but it felt too good. 

 his thumb swiped at your tear-streaked cheek, his other hand pressing down on your lower stomach, feeling the way he stretched you open. 

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice husky as he fucked into you harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch. “be good for me. just take it. let me use you, yeah?”

you could barely think, barely breathe, and yet you nodded. and that was all he needed before his grip on your hips tightened, his cock stretching you wide, and he really started fucking you.

his hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper inside you, groaning as your walls clenched around him, still fluttering. his hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“look at you,” he murmured, taking in the sight of you, tears spilling down your cheeks, the way your lips trembled. “so fuckin’ pretty like this. cryin’ for me. takin’ me like a good fuckin’ girl, squeezin’ me so tight, shit—”

your body trembled beneath him, your sobs mixing with broken moans as he fucked into you relentlessly. your arms struggled against his grip, desperate to reach for him, but he only pressed you deeper into the mattress, keeping you pinned.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, tears slipping down your cheeks. “please—kiss me—”

he should’ve been satisfied with how wrecked you already were, with the way your body clenched around him so tight—but fuck, hearing you beg for his kisses?

that only made him worse.

“tch. still so fuckin’ needy, even when i’m ruining you.” 

his grip on your wrists loosens just enough for you to reach up. the second your hands touched him, you yanked him down, crashing your lips against his, desperate for the closeness, for the warmth of his mouth against yours.

katsuki groaned into the kiss, deep and hungry, swallowing your cries as he kissed you hard. his tongue pushes past your lips, claiming you just as much as his cock did. his thrusts didn’t slow, didn’t soften—if anything, he fucked you harder, like he wanted to ruin you completely.

“that what you needed, pretty girl?” he murmured against your lips, his breath heavy, your sobs melting into whimpers. “that why you’re cryin’? ‘cause you needed me to kiss you while i fuck you?”

you nodded frantically, another broken whimper slipping past your lips. “y-yeah—needed you—”

“yeah?” he smirked against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again—sloppier, deeper, making sure you’d never forget exactly who you belonged to.

his rhythm starts to stutter, hips snapping into you harder, sloppier, and you felt the way his body tensed, the way his grip on your hips turned bruising. he forced another helpless cry from you, and he groaned against your lips, drinking in every sound.

"fuck—fuck," katsuki whined, voice raw and desperate as he buried himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and ragged, his lips brushing against your own as he lost himself in you. "you feel so goddamn good—s'fuckin’ tight, baby—"

you knew that tone—knew the way his voice cracked when he felt needy, when he was so fucking close to cumming. you loved when he got like this, when all his control slipped away and he was nothing but whiny, desperate need.

"katsuki—" you gasped, nails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "i'm—i'm close, i'm so close, wanna cum together—"

his grip tightened, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as he snapped his hips into you, his pace turning desperate chasing both of your highs. "fuck, yeah? c'mon, baby— wanna feel you cum, wanna fuckin' feel you all over my cock—"

his next thrust sent you over, body locking up as the heat coiled tight in your belly and snapped all at once. your moan shattered into a cry as your whole body trembled, clenching around him so hard its about to break him.

“oh, fuck—” katsuki choked, eyes rolling back as he lost it completely, slamming into you one last time before burying himself into your warm, wet pussy. his whole body shook, breath stuttering as he spilled inside you, groaning out your name like a prayer.

he kept thrusting—shallow, drawn-out rolls of his hips, like he never wanted to stop feeling you, even as he came down from his high. his forehead pressed against yours again, his breath heavy, his body spent.

for a moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths, your bodies still tangled, clinging to each other as you both came down from your highs. katsuki was still holding you, his grip tight but no longer desperate—just grounding. 

then, with a deep exhale, katsuki finally pulled out, rolling onto his side and gathering you against his chest. his arms wrapped around you securely, his large hand rubbing slow, lazy circles into your back. you felt his eyes scan over you with something softer than before—something almost tender.

“you alright, sweets?”

you nodded, still catching your breath, but the way your body trembled slightly didn’t escape him. he scoffs, sitting up just enough to lean over and press soft kisses to your damp forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“liar,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. only warmth. “you cried, y’know.”

you let out a breathy laugh, snuggling closer. “you were relentless.”

he clicked his tongue, one of his hands finding the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, the other resting on the small of your back, holding you close.

you melted into his chest, sighing against his skin. “you’re so warm…”

he smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “duh. i’m literally made of explosions, dumbass.”

you lightly smacked his chest, making him chuckle. but his teasing quickly faded as he tilted your chin up, crimson eyes searching yours. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your overstimulated tears.

“seriously, though,” he murmured, quieter now. “you okay?”

your heart squeezed at how gentle he was being. how, despite how rough he could be, how demanding, he never once forgot to take care of you afterward. you leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm.

“i’m perfect,” you smiled sleepily. “because of you.”

“tch. sappy little shit," katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, looking away. his ears definitely got redder.  “you sure, though? i didn’t—y’know… go too hard?”

you hummed, tilting your head to press a lazy kiss to his jaw. “i'm fine, katsuki. i promise." 

he just huffed, shifting to grab a towel from the nightstand. “yeah, well, you better be. was holdin’ back just for you.”

you snorted. “that was you holding back?”

katsuki shot you a look but didn’t argue. instead, he started cleaning you up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. he was quiet as he worked, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“…was it really okay?” his voice was quieter now, hesitant in a way he rarely was.

you cupped his cheek, running your thumb over the sharp line of his jaw. “yes. i’d tell you if it wasn’t, katsuki.”

his crimson eyes searched yours for a long moment before he finally exhaled, tension melting from his shoulders. “good.”

he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips, lingering there as if he never wanted to pull away.

“cause next time, i’m makin’ you cry even harder.”

you groaned, shoving his face away as he laughed, the sound deep and full of warmth. 

katsuki didn’t say anything for a moment after—just stared at you, his expression completely unguarded. no sharp smirks, no cocky grins—just raw, unfiltered devotion.

he stared at you like you’d just hung the damn moon. like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.  

you reached up to brush a few stray strands of hair from his forehead, and he caught your wrist midair, holding it for just a second before bringing it to his lips. the kiss he pressed against your palm was barely there, but it sent warmth blooming in your chest.

“you’re lookin’ at me funny,” you murmured, voice drowsy.

katsuki huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t look away. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you smiled lazily back at him. “like i just saved a bunch of kids from a burning building or something."

his smirk was faint, more of a ghost of amusement than anything. he pressing lazy kisses along your wrist, trailing them down to the inside of your palm. “you didn’t save a bunch of kids. you’re just—you. and i dunno what the hell i’d do without that."

your chest ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but before you could say anything, katsuki pulled you in even closer, pressing his face against your shoulder, like he was trying to hide.

“go to sleep,” he grumbled, voice muffled against your skin. “say any dumb shit about it, and i’ll smother you.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you curled against him, feeling the way his arms locked around you just a little tighter. “mhm. goodnight, katsuki.”

and then you smiled—sleepy, content, completely at ease in his arms.

katsuki stiffened. just for a second. just enough for you to feel the way his breath hitched, the way his hold on you tightened like he was trying to keep himself together.

fuck.

that damn smile. that look on your face. like he was your whole world. like you trusted him. like you loved him.

he clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose, like that would do anything to calm the way his heart was fucking pounding.

"goodnight." 

he was fucked. absolutely, completely, and hopelessly fucked.

because thats when katsuki bakugo realized he was in love with you. and he couldn't do anything about it.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ tags: ˚⋆ @kalulakunundrum @ch3rryjampi3 @lotusstarr @aranikai @emmab3mma @yannvi @gabby-ha @twoplayergaymers @xanneeeyyyy @akiii143 @ceeriusly-dumb @beabamboo @butlereyepatchbunny @qyuin @ocharavitys @dragonscribble @jimabbenamara @g0dawnlita @sourgrapesthings @seraphiicallyy @aawwq @kaybug88

[pathologicalreid]

xoxo | s.r.

in which your daughter goes to the BAU to hand out her extra Valentines

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: horrible tooth rotting fluff, chemist!reader and leah, the spencer reid dilf agenda, valentine's day, reader wears pink (it's FESTIVE) word count: 1.47k a/n: happy valentine's day my loves!!!!

You had just finished helping your daughter put her visitor badge over her head before she proudly approached the two agents manning the security desk.

She brandished two Valentine’s Day cards for them, grinning while they looked down at her in surprise. You watched them tentatively take the cardstock from your three-year-old while she teetered back and forth in her pink Mary Janes. They thanked her while you pulled your visitor badge on. “C’mon, Leah,” you said, holding your hand out for her to take, “Let’s go see Daddy.”

“Daddy!” She chirped, her pure, childhood joy causing people in the lobby to stare. Most people were already vaguely aware of who she was, and even if they weren’t, it’s difficult to be truly bothered by a kid wearing heart antennae. Adjusting her grip on her basket of Valentines, she led you to the elevator, practically dragging you through Quantico.

Her hand couldn’t quite reach the button in the elevator, accidentally hitting the number four while wavering on her tippy toes. “Here, lovey,” you said, reaching over her and pushing the number six for her.

Leah beamed up at you. “Thank you,” she whispered, lowering herself and standing next to you, tugging on your pink sweater in an attempt to get your attention—as if she had ever lost it. “You wanna Valentine?” Her voice was soft, as if you were exchanging state secrets in the elevator, sweetly leaning her head against your leg. She stumbled over the name of the holiday a bit, replacing the second ‘n’ with an ‘m.’

“I’ll get one after everyone else,” you reassured her, adjusting her headband and smiling at the way the hearts bobbled.

She nodded confidently, making faces at her reflection in the elevator doors as you continued your way up.

You held your breath as the doors opened, once again holding your hand out for her to take so you could enter the bullpen in an orderly fashion, but as soon as they were open, she had taken off, the door being held open for someone else, leaving a perfect gap for her to slip through. There was barely enough time for you to call, “Incoming,” before she ran directly into Luke.

Thanking Anderson for holding the door for you, you followed Leah into the bullpen at a much slower pace and locked eyes with your husband, sighing in relief at the fact that you’d made it with little stress.

Your daughter had already been rescued from a room full of tall people by Dave, who’d hoisted her onto someone’s desk, so they were nearly at eye level. “Happy Valentime’s, Dave,” she said excitedly, urgently rifling through her basket to find a treat that she deemed worthy of his receipt.

Rossi smiled at her, “Happy Valentine’s Day, kiddo. What have you got there?” You weren’t sure if he was faking interest for the sake of your toddler, but either way, you were grateful for the opportunity to sneak by them, approaching Spencer’s desk.

He powered off his computer monitor as you leaned on the edge of his desk. “Hey,” he greeted, leaning his head up so you could plant a quick kiss on his lips. “Did she have fun?”

You nodded, peeking over your shoulder to see Dave walking Leah around to hand out Valentines to the entire office. “We severely underestimated the number of parents who keep their kids home for Valentine’s Day,” you informed him. Leah’s daycare class had been nearly empty when you picked her up early.

“What does that mean for us?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze.

Raising your eyebrows, you grinned impishly, “It means we’re bringing a lot of lollipops home with us.”

Spencer chuckled, eyes following Leah as she made her way to Emily’s office, jumping up the steps and giggling at the sound effects that Tara made when she landed. “How was your morning?” He asked nonchalantly, and since nothing Spencer ever did was nonchalant, you knew he was on a fishing expedition.

The corners of your mouth quirked up while he shuffled the papers on his desk, preparing to spend his lunch with you and Leah. “Oh, I dropped Leah off and then went to work. I only had one class to teach, Physical Chemistry, as you know. I had some time before I needed to be back at the daycare, so I decided to stop at home and found a large bouquet of red and pink roses on the kitchen counter. They didn’t belong there, so I tossed them in the trash before heading here.”

“You did not,” Spencer challenged, grinning up at you, pushing his tongue against his teeth like he did when he was holding in a laugh.

You laughed breathily, hiding your smile behind your hand until Spencer reached up and took your hand in his. “No,” you acquiesced, “But I have no idea where we’re going to put two dozen roses.”

He pretended to think about it for a moment. “How about the kitchen counter?”

Humming, you leaned down to kiss him again. “Works for me,” you murmured to him on your way back up. You turned your head to find your toddler, seeing that Penelope had made her way to the bullpen and was putting a red feather boa around Leah’s neck.

Listening in on their conversation, you frowned when you overheard Leah complaining that the boa wasn’t pink. “Leah,” Spencer called her name, having overheard the conversation himself. “What do you say to Aunt Penelope?”

The three-year-old spun around, stumbling a bit when she tried to come to a stop, before looking up at Garcia and jumping, “Thank you! Matches my butterfly ears!” She fumbled the word ‘butterfly’ a bit in all of her excitement—bubberfly.

Your husband looked at you, confused. “Butterfly ears?”

“Antennae, obviously,” you told him, shaking your head in faux disappointment that he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Hey, princess, c’mere,” he said, waving over your daughter.

You waved to JJ and Emily as they joined the impromptu gathering, with everyone in the bullpen watching while Leah skipped over to her dad. “Hi, Daddy,” she greeted, lifting her arms for him to pick her up, which he did happily.

“Hi, baby. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he replied, sweeping a stray strand of hair from her forehead. He’d left before you got her dressed this morning, so he hadn’t been able to see her in her festive outfit, complete with a pink and red tutu.

Comfortably sitting in her father’s lap, she giggled when he tickled her side. “Happy Valentime’s Day, Daddy,” she managed to squeak out. Sighing when he finally gave her a break, she asked, “Lunch?”

You smiled softly, “Soon, lovey.” The three of you had planned to do lunch as a family, and Penelope had promised to take Leah for a sleepover so you could go out for dinner—you were nervous, and she was thrilled.

She kicked her feet contentedly, telling Spencer about the cards she had given away at the security desk in a hushed voice while you watched an exchange across the bullpen. Luke was leaning toward Tara, holding his lollipop in his hand, “What flavor did you get?”

Tara peered at him suspiciously. “Blue raspberry,” she replied.

“I’ll trade you a green apple,” he offered, extending his arm out for the swap.

Turning in her chair, Tara scoffed, setting her Valentine on her desk, “Not a chance.”

A small gasp to your side caught your attention. “No trades, Newbie!” Leah shouted from her perch.

Instead of turning on your daughter, Luke immediately pointed at Garcia, “You coached her!”

Penelope feigned offense, holding a hand to her chest and looking around the bullpen, “It is my duty as her godmother to warn her against certain people.”

“Meaning me?”

“If the shoe fits, Newbie,” Penelope replied, leaning against a vacant desk while she awaited Luke’s response.

He looked over at Leah now. “How did she even hear me?”

You shrugged. “She has freakishly good hearing; we’re thinking of having her tested.”

Spencer nudged you at your joke, smiling slightly, “She saw you.”

Sighing in defeat, Luke gave Leah an exaggerated pout, “I’m sorry I tried to make a trade. Can you forgive me?”

Leah nodded with a toothy smile. Luckily, she was three, and things were easy to get over. “Hey, do I get a Valentine?” Spencer asked, playing with the hearts on her headband.  

Humming, she shifted on his lap. “Mommy put all of the pink ones in a baggie for us.”

You flashed a grin back at your husband, pulled a Watermelon lollipop out of your purse, and handed it to him. “I’m very good at what I do.”

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summarly - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and psycho. This part- OH BOY- fingering, Suguru being a psychotic munch so oral (f recieving) rough sex, dirty talk, multiple positions, choking and smacking (in and out of the bedroom) cockwarming, mating press, creampie, TOXIC asf, hate sex, angst. WC this part- 8k

Will be three parts I THOUGHT now looking like four lmao <3 Plz share/comment/ like if you enjoy!- This won the poll as the thank you for 7k followers, tysmmm!

<<<Part One - Playlist - Masterlist - Part Three (soon) Based on Clan Leader Geto

Part Two

“Now.”

Suguru’s quiet command was just that, a command, one for you to obey as his ‘wife’. But you damn sure weren’t going to act like you wanted to fuck this deranged psycho any more than you already did.

“Get it over with then, the sooner I get pregnant the better.”

“Exactly, we won’t have to do this any longer. Useless little-”

You smack him, earning a psychotic glare, violet eyes glittering dangerously as your hand stings, and red lifts on his perfect face. “Call me a monkey one more time.”

He smirks, leaning close now, yanking you to him, turning you and unzipping your dress, letting it fall, so you don’t see just how perfect he thinks you are. His hands slip around your front, one sliding up to squish a breast, thumb brushing a nipple, making you cry out before you can stop yourself, he chuckles at your response, his other finding your pussy now, dripping.

“Already so wet, hmm? Admit it, you love getting fucked by me, you know how above you I am, pathetic… human. Hmm?” You turn in surprise, as you’re soaking his fingers now, your lips parted, tantalizing, eyes rolling back as he finds your engorged little clit, swirling his fingers on it.

“Fuck… you… mnh…” Is all you manage, as he feels your hair fall back against his chest, and his cock is already throbbing, even after jerking it this morning and last night, he has to be inside you again.

“Soaking me from a little touch? So fucking pathetic.” He whispers, you bite down on your lip, shoving at his hands then, turning.

“Just put it in, I can take it now.” You have him lifting you like you’re nothing, and for this brief moment when he holds you, and your lips are too close, he pictures it, letting go with someone so measly and useless, someone so annoying and absolutely insolent.

But he can never think that way.

He tosses you on the bed, spreading your thighs, spitting right on your pussy then, you gasp at it, lewd and wanton, as he watches the bubbly clear liquid pool between lips still puffy from getting fucked last night. He moans at the sight, at loud, as he leans down, inhaling you, and you shove at him with your feet, earning another death glare.

“What are you doing, just get it done. Don’t… whatever that is!” He aches to taste you, fuck you’re annoying him, the scent driving him insane. He can smell how badly you want him, as he gathers his spit and shoves it in your little hole, and you whine out, sore and throbbing.

“Stop thinking you can tell me what to do, you’re nothing but a tool for me, a pretty little tool.”

“Pretty huh?” You cry out as he scissors his fingers now, done with your remarks, his other hand slamming on your mouth, muffling your protests.

“Will you shut up, fuck I’ll get there.” Suguru took his time with things, he wants to devour every pretty inch of your body, but you’re correct, it is in fact stupid to do so, to waste the talents of his tongue and mouth on your pretty, but useless human body. “Undress me.”

You take a shaky breath, sitting up now, with no help of his, undoing the buttons  of these black robes he’s wearing, pretentious and royal, stupid just like him. You’re filled with so much hate your chest heaves, as you realize your body wants this, and you hate that it does. You quickly drop his robes and once again, gulping as you remember the initial pain last night.

Suguru watches you hesitate, raising a dark brow now, acting as if his tip leaking precum is just so normal for this situation. “Go on, I’ll allow it.” He says then, and your eyes narrow.

“Allow what?” Your voice is full of laughter, he wonders if you have any sense of self preservation, serving to only infuriate him further.

“You to serve me, you may if you beg pretty enough.” He tilts your chin up then, and you burst into laughter, only making him scowl down at you.

“I’ll not serve you anymore than I already have to. Get one of your little cult girls to do that.”

“You insolent-”

“Come on now, what position is best for baby making?” He turns you around then, until you’re on your knees, you look back wildly at him, at his flexing muscles, his long dark hair falling over a shoulder as he grabs your hips.

“Arch your back, monkey.” Your jaw sets, and he realizes very quickly you won’t, sighing and rolling violet eyes, pressing between your shoulder blades, yanking on your hip and almost cumming at how pretty your ass looks arched. “Fuck…”

“This is the best po-mnh!” He’s pressing his tip against you, up your slit now, which pools out arousal, when he smacks you firm on one ass cheek. “Don’t fucking do that psycho!”

“You’ve irritated me.”

Your ass looks perfect with his handprints.

“Now, arch more, hmm?”

He just wants a good look at you, how small your waist looks like this, how your ass is shaped so perfectly, hips fitting in his big hands that are taking you over, and he presses deeper, sucking in his moans. His thumbs press into the dimples on your lower back, cursing silently at how perfect you feel, gripping just his tip he could cum, his head falling forward as he leans over you.

His feet planted on the floor, he presses further, making you cry out, as he stretches you, fills you, and damn if it doesn’t feel good. You bite it back again, inhaling sharply as he leans over you, his hair now falling against your bare shoulders, his breath hot in your neck as he shoves his cock so deep. His hand comes to cup your chin, turning it to make you look up at him.

God you’re pretty.

“Got you to shut up- hah.” He huffs, and you open your mouth to protest when he slams your cervix, squeezing your throat just so, until you’re fuzzy, and your cunt is slick, sucking him in hungry.

“F-fuck you… hate it…” You whisper, he laughs then, deep and dark in your ear, squeezing your throat tighter with long fingers, beginning to fuck into you, lewd noises filling your bed chamber as he moves.

“Could fucking kill you right now, tiny, pathetic little neck. Could snap it right now, huh?” He squeezes further, and you should be terrified, surely, but instead you’re convulsing around his cock, making you both sigh in pleasure, as each of you try to hide your body's reactions, and fail the more he pumps.

“Kill me… then… do it…” You whisper, and he squeezes more now, your windpipe pressed between his strong hand, as he presses fully in, bottoming out all his inches in your pussy, and you scream silently, eyes rolling back in your skull as you feel fuzzy, like you’re floating.

“I could do it, oh I could do it.” He loves it then, feeling as you’re close, he can tell with how your body jerks and moves, then he’s shoving deep and rolling his hips, watching as you shatter for him. “Can’t fucking help it, feel too good?”

You shake your head even as he’s squeezing your neck, as you’re cumming all over his cock, when he lets go, and you take a breath, burying your face, fingers gripping the silk red and black blankets. You don’t see Geto losing it, his hands shaking, cock pulsing as your walls flutter, and he feels it, he’s close already, you’re too tight, you’re too much.

Annoying.

“Don’t wanna show me how much you like it, do you?” You shake your head, gasping for a breath then.

“Hate it, hate you, hate your dick- ah!” He’s on you then, prone position, heavy weight over your much smaller body, taking you over. You’re whimpering helplessly when he finds your clit again, and shoves his cock deep. “S-stop touching it, shit!”

“You like it, huh?” You bite your lip, shaking your head as he fucks you far too intimately, one elbow holding himself up, hand right back on your throat, as he laps up sweat that’s dripping down the curve of your neck. “You love it, me inside you, don’t you monkey?”

“Fuck you.” You manage to breathe out, giving him no satisfaction as you bury your face again, hands gripping the blankets so hard they’re crumpling, screaming as he makes you cum again, as he makes you hate him more.

Suguru loses himself in you, burying his face in your neck, as he had last night, groaning softly as he feels your orgasm surround him, milk him, pulling his fingers back finally giving your overstimulated clit a reprieve. He puts his fingers to his lips then, and when he tastes you!?

Suguru pauses his thrusts, the sweetness of you unlike anything he’s ever tasted, making his cock twitch inside you, and suddenly it’s too intimate, it’s too much, having him inside you, on you, teeth sinking into your neck. It feels far too perfect, and you despise this monster even more for it, for making you weak against him, under him like this.

“God…” He murmurs, confusing you when he presses his lips against your ear, breath tickling it again, making you shiver. “Ready for me to fill you up?”

“Get it d-done.” You squeak out, he yanks you further down on his cock, pumping inside you then, and you swear this psycho cult leader whimpers, it’s almost disorienting hearing it, you barely manage to focus, as your vision swims. When his sexy - fuck it’s not sexy - moan fills your ears, and he’s shoving his thick cock so deep, you can’t stop your body’s reaction.

You’re cumming again, only edging him on further, laughing at you, even as he’s crying out, pulling your hair by the nape of your neck, pumping so deep. “F-fuck… gonna put so much in you, fill you till your stupid little ass can’t walk.”

“Fuck you- ngh!” Your orgasm is just extended as his cum fills you so deep inside, feeling him pulse and spurt so much cum it’s stupid.

“Bratty, annoying, insolent… fuck…” perfect, you feel perfect.

Suguru supposes if he had to be paired with a monkey, you were by far the best, he’d never felt anything like you before, even how you smell, the softness of your skin, everything just draws him in. He tries to shake himself out of the stupor, feeling your aftershocks milking every last drop from him, impulse making him press a kiss on your upper back.

“Don’t do that.” You whisper now, and he pauses himself, why is he kissing your skin, why is he lingering. This isn’t what this is for, it’s for power, it’s for an heir to get the Geto clan off his fucking back.

After that you won’t be needed to breed would you?

Suguru contemplates that for a moment, still laying on you, hoping you don’t get pregnant any time soon, which confuses him more than anything, as you’re gasping for a breath under him, wriggling just so. “You’re heavy, get off me.”

“You’re such a mean little bitch, you know that?” He hops off you then, turning you to your back and shoving you down by your collar bones, your breaths come faster as he looms over you, thin sheen of sweat coating his perfect body.

“A bitch? You expect me to be happy, to worship you? I never will.” You whisper, his fingers itch to touch you more, when he finally pulls back, and sees it, the milky white cum starting to ooze from your little hole. The sight of it ignites something feral in him, as he takes his fingers and scoops it up, your mouth drops open just a bit.

“You’re not even keeping the cum inside you, hmm? Guess I’ll have to help you keep it in.” He shoves his two thick, long fingers in your cunt then, watching as your hole swallows it, and you’re whimpering, so sexy his cock, sticky from you still, twitches again.

“N-not necessary, is this?” You whisper, clearly naive and innocent, it’s him defiling you really, but how can he help himself, when he needs more of you.

“It is very necessary, slutty little cunt wasting it all.”

“Slutty, bet your cult girls are like a - ah!” Suguru is curling his fingers in you again as you speak, making you stutter, when his thumb hits your clit again. “That… part… why do you…”

“Cumming, it’ll help it take.” You frown at him, brows drawing together. “It’s not as if I want you to have pleasure, or work at it, but it’s true.”

“We’re already done now though, can you- f-fuck I…” You’re gushing down his hands, the mix of his own cum and yours making him die to taste it.

“Tsk, so messy, aren’t you?” He slips his fingers out now, putting them inside your mouth, only for you to enjoy this asshole’s taste before you think better and bite the shit out of his fingers, making him scowl as he pulls them back. “Not just weak and useless, you’re stupid. Think I won’t kill you before you have a baby?”

“Worth it to bite your stupid fingers and slap your stupid face.” You sit up as he finally stands, blushing for a moment as you see the wet spot you’ve caused, as you see his cum trailing down his tip. You think wildly about licking it before you stand and turn away, clearing your throat and bending down to get your robes.

“You’re lucky my family needs you around, or I’d send a curse in and kill you in your fucking sleep.” You roll your eyes, adjusting your robes now as you turn, seeing him still shirtless, as he adjusts his own robes.

“Anything else you require of me, husband or Lord Geto- whatever the hell I’m supposed to call you.” He chuckles then, cupping your face, but not sweetly, no he’s squeezing it, violet eyes so dilated they look black, the intensity making your heart falter for a moment.

“Your mouth is just begging to be shut. Maybe if I fuck your throat good enough you’ll lose your voice?” He taunts, and your glare just makes him hard all over again, along with the thought of fucking this insolent mouth of yours. “Nothing to say about that? Get you wet?’

Yes.

“You wish.” He smirks his full lips, trailing his fingers down your waist now.

“You’ll be dripping me all day, won’t you?”

“I sure hope not, it’s uncomfortable and disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You are!” You shove at him now, breaths faster and faster, he loses his smirk, his humor, gripping your wrist bruisingly.

“You’ll be ready for dinner tonight, as well as my meeting tomorrow, you’ll be everywhere I am publicly.”

“Oh joy, can’t wait.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he opens the door, summoning the little bull curse again, who runs up to you now. Suguru’s eyes narrow, as he turns and watches the curse lick your cheek. He’s known the curse to be odd, but the way you giggle, how your face lights up?

He’s seen you scowl, seen tears in your eyes, seen your jaw set and your eyes full of fire, but for the moment you’re just happy, as the curse is nudging at your hand, and he realizes you’re not just a pretty human. You’re fucking beautiful, the kind of girl who would have taken the Suguru of Jujutsu high days by his heart, that would have had him desperate for you.

He’s not that man, but some part of him annoyingly persists, the part that misses Gojo, Shoko, fuck he misses Nanami, so many of his fallen classmates. The rage he holds is usually enough to keep the loneliness at bay, the fact that though he’s surrounded by people who love him, who need him, he’s truly alone. There are no friends, there is no love anymore.

You remind him of a past he aches to forget, when your smile and glittery eyes look at him, before they fall, and you remember yourself, which Suguru needs almost, he doesn’t need to crave happiness for you. A means to an end, perhaps the sex has ruined his fucking brain.

“Could I name him?” You ask, and he wants to smile at you, the smile he used to have, not the cruel psychotic smirk, but instead he just shrugs a broad shoulder.

“If you must, I never gave him one. He’ll keep you…” Safe. “From leaving, but he won’t…” Hurt you. “He’s very calm.”

“I know, I like him a lot. Hmm, I’ll think of a name for you, handsome boy.” You tease him, and then Suguru hears your tummy growl quite loudly, making you flush in embarrassment.

“I’ll have someone show you where the kitchens are.” He says, he hasn’t even contemplated that you need food, and even curse users eat. Clearly he’s been a little too… involved with that insane pussy you think is normal, to worry about you properly functioning.

“Oh thank you I guess… I haven’t eaten since I’ve been here.”

“Ah, that’s… not okay for making a baby.” A baby, the words hit hard then, you know your duty but to think of it… to think of your life being over… to think of bearing this man a baby.

Your tummy lurches even as you’re starving.

“I’ll send the girls up, they’re a little more…” What should he care of your comfort!? “They’re well adapted here, it’s their home.” You nod then, and he walks out, leaving you with this derpy looking curse, body aching from Suguru’s touches, as you sit on the bed, and the curse jumps up for more pets.

Just who was Suguru Geto, how did he get this way?

Should you even care, and would you survive long enough to know if it’s even worth it?

Soon Mimiko and Nanako are giggling, taking each of your hands, sucking on little lollipops and damn near frolicking, as they guide you through each hall of this ridiculous estate. They start asking you more and more questions, and for whatever reason it doesn’t feel malicious, like Suguru, like the others, like the Geto family.

“Dad seems to really think you’re pretty.” Nanako says, and you shake your head with a laugh.

“No way.”

“Have you seen how he stared at you? While you were dancing?” Mimiko asks, and you almost snort.

“Yeah, no, your dad… hates me. Clearly.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.” Nanako says, then points to a kitchen with cooks actively working, the aromas making your tummy growl again. “Go ahead, get whatever you want.”

“It’s all yummy.” Mimiko says, they run over and giggle, grabbing little pieces of different sushis, as the curse licks your hand, you smile a bit at him.

“What if I named you Sashimi?” It lolls its tongue out, head tilting to the side, and you giggle. “I like it though!”

Suguru finds you sitting with his daughters, who are on either side of you, stirring something in him that should not be there. But it’s undeniable, when you smile softly at them, a smile you’d never shoot his direction. Manami comes and tries to kiss him, which he quickly tilts his head away, but not before you catch him, but your eyes avert and you show no emotion.

Do you feel anything towards him but pure hatred and fear? Has he given you any reason to? Do you feel this odd energy, or is it all in Suguru’s head?

“It wouldn’t look right.” He says. Manami is his best and most loyal assistant, but he can’t stand the thought of anyone touching him.

But you.

And would you ever?

Why does he care?

“Then later, Lord Geto?” She asks, and he eyes her for a moment, her breasts apparent in this low cut blazer.

“I think it best I don’t… divert from trying to have an heir with… my…”

“Your wife?” She finishes, laughing a bit, Suguru’s jaw tenses.

“Best to spend the energy there, get it done.”

“As you say, Lord Geto. What’s on the agenda for today?” He starts to speak, but all he can really think is how much he wants you to hit him again, how just that feels like more than he’s had since long ago.

Annoying girl.

*****

Three days later

Over the next few days, Suguru can’t get enough of your pussy, of your face when he makes you cum, of your scent, of your presence. He hates it, how much he wants you all the time, like you’re some leech that’s sunk into his brain. He constantly calls you in for more, now you’re right in his office, he’s fingering you as you sit on his lap, your legs up on the arms of his enormous leather seat.

“You’re close, aren’t you dumb little monkey?” He whispers, you shake your head, jaw clenched when he pulls his fingers out and you whine pathetically. “Oh, need something?”

“Just fuck me, god.” Your legs are shaking as he’s teasing you with his fingers again, circling your clit, his other hand gripping your breast, squishing it in his hand, cock aching to pump you full.

“Sit on my desk.” He orders, husky toned, you struggle to get up, and he laughs cruelly. “Can’t stand huh? Gotta do everything, don’t I?”

He hoists you up, spreading your thighs then, sinking back into his seat as he eyes your perfect pussy, and he’s so tired of holding back, what he’s been dying to do, as he leans over, fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs. Your eyes go wide when you feel his breath on your clit, making you jerk, this mother fucker inhales you, moaning and shutting his eyes.

“What… are you sniffing me!?” You demand, thighs threatening to close, and Suguru exhales, eyes locking on yours.

“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth.” Those words are far too attractive, as your pussy throbs in response, you try to focus, you hate this psycho, you can’t have him further fucking up your head.

“That’s not how babies are made, Suguru.”

“Orgasms help, remember?” You frown, biting your lower lip, it seems too intimate, it seems like too much, as your hands grip his desk, and your hips arch, his lashes lowering, casting shadows on his cheeks.

“I cum anyway, stop acting like you don’t know that.” You look away, hating even admitting it out loud, and he smirks, chuckling and making you tickle again, as he spreads your puffy lips, watching your pussy drool out wetness more and more.

“Try not to scream too loudly.” You snort, rolling your eyes.

“Oh you’re so full of yourself, I doubt- ah!” He swipes the flat of his tongue from your hole, and then when he tastes your honeyed arousal, it’s over for him.

Moaning, he drags you against him now, closer to his face as he swipes his tongue in, and your head falls back, mouth open in a slutty O as he lavishes you, it feels so good you’re not sure you’ve ever enjoyed something this much. Addictive with each stroke, with each breath, the way his teeth hit you, fuck how his straight nose bumps your engorged clit.

Your hands instinctively grip his silky hair, for the first time you’re touching it, glossy strands in your fingers as you try to pull him off, it’s too good, way too good, this can’t be something you do. He’s licking you up and moaning, tastebuds slid inside your fluttering walls, as you desperately cry out, whining and pulling at his hair for him to detatch his mouth.

“What are you doing!?” You manage to squeak out, and he pulls back just a bit, feeling your little pathetic hands pulling on him, as if you could stop him now, that he has your slick all over his lower face.

The sight of Suguru Geto between your thighs, licking his glossy lips, eyes dilated and drunk off your pussy is far too tempting. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, as your breaths come quicker and quicker, and Suguru exhales right on you, smirking as he watches your tiny clit twitch for him in response.

“Eating your pussy, are you so stupid you don’t know what it is?” You bite your lower lip, glaring now.

“I’ve heard of it, I just… Why do you want to? Remember, you don’t want to ‘prep a monkey’ your exact words.”

“Will you shut up and just…” He pulls you back again, and he’s devouring you, no other word for it, the insane way he licks you, drinks you up, the sounds of him inhaling and slurping obscenely in his office, and you find your hands pulling him closer.

As he feels you press your cunt further in his face, he’s done, cock throbbing in his pants and oozing precum out, making him damn near cum as he feels her clenching his tongue. He dares to look up, tilting his head that you’re still yanking on, your thighs trembling on each side of his raven haired head, as you whimper, hiccuping in pleasure, tears falling from your eyes.

“Close, aren’t you?” He whispers, tauntingly, those violet eyes glinting as you shake your head, and he laughs, just the laugh touching you he sees you’re drooling more and more from your pretty pussy. “No?”

“Don’t like it.” You whisper, he smirks and flicks his tongue one more time, ending you, your orgasm washes all over your body until you are cupping a hand on your face to stop your scream, and he moans again, drinking all your cum that’s pouring down out of you.

“Fuck…” He whispers, more to himself than anything, Suguru loves eating pussy but he never thought a pathetic human would taste like you, your heat burning him, he can hardly delatch his mouth even as you pull on him.

“What even… is that…” You weakly manage, and he slips two fingers through your slick, your hands fall weakly when he leans over now, undoing his robes to reveal his ready cock, thick and heavy, slapping his belly button and leaving sticky white residue on his robes.

“Shut it, useless little human.” You can’t find the energy to scowl, your body is still shaking, trying to recover from all the pleasure he’d brought you. You grip his biceps as he sinks into you, so wet he slips in easily, and you’re so sensitive you almost cum when he slips all the way inside.

“Shit…” Is all you manage, you want to tell him- hurry up or - fuck you- maybe - hate you- but for just a moment he’s got your brain too addled, when he starts fucking you, you’re clinging to him, whining, and you hate yourself for it.

He hates you, as he watches you for once pliant, sweet even, fuck what would it be like if you wanted this fully, if you wanted him?

He can’t think like this, no it’s your pretty face and your sweet taste, he can’t stand how bad he wants to kiss your lips as he spreads you over his desk, pumping in and out of your slick cunt over and over. Your thighs grip him, your hands gripping his arms so tightly, when your head falls back, and he’s kissing and licking your pretty throat.

“Shut you up, it is possible.” He whispers meanly in your ear, and you try to focus, as his tip drags on your spot.

“F-fuck y-you.” He smiles, he smiles, loving just how that sounds, a tiny little mewl of words.

“I am fucking you, should thank me.”

“Never.” He groans now, yanking you down, turning you so you’re bent over his desk, feet dangling like you’re nothing, the way he moves you with his strength is heady, exhilarating, not frightening like it should be.

Suguru is shoving his cock back inside, gripping your wrists behind your back. He can’t take how pretty you look, he needs to stop, it’s easier this way. “Won’t thank me for fucking you? Me, a curse user, you a-”

“Shut up and fuck me then.” You glare, turning your pretty face to him, and he does just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck… stupid, pathetic little thing-mnh…” He busts deep inside you, squeezing your wrists so tightly you can’t even feel them, cum filling you to the brim. He exhales as your head rests on the cool wood, and tears fall.

Why did he have to make you enjoy him more?

Suguru turns you and releases you now, you stumble and the fucker doesn’t even catch you, instead he hovers, lips just an inch from yours, as you struggle to gain any senses. “I hate you, Lord Geto.”

Suguru, could you call him Suguru?

“I don’t even hate you, you’re so insignificant.” He whispers, tilting your chin up, imagining having you taste yourself off his mouth. “Hate is even too good for a nothing like you.”

“I have enough hate for both of us.” You whisper back, before stumbling away, righting yourself, hurriedly walking to the door when he murmurs.

“My meeting tomorrow, you’ll be there.”

You just scowl and walk away, detesting the thought of having to be in a room full of psychos that want you eradicated. “Why?”

“You’re my wife, it’s one of your duties.”

“They want me dead.” He scoffs now.

“And you think I don’t?” You stomp off, slamming the door, Suguru groans as he slumps into the chair, burying his head in his arms on the cherry wood desk, thinking of how much he wishes he did want you dead.

*****

“Are you ready for the meeting?” Manami asks, coldly, and you smile at her then, shaking your head.

“You’re so worried about me, why? I don’t want your cult daddy.”

Manami glares now, tossing back her red locks. “Cult daddy!?”

“Yeah, him, you can have him. What do I fucking care? I am sure he still comes to you plenty, and I won’t stop him.” She blinks once more, mouth open in shock.

“You haven’t… you don’t care if he does?”

“Not one bit.”

“Then why hasn’t he-”

“Let’s go, monkey.” You hear now, and he catches sight of you, in a gorgeous white gown that makes your skin glimmer, you’re far, far too beautiful. For a moment he's standing there, stupidly, thinking of just how good your pussy tasted yesterday, thinking of burying his face back against it, before he shakes it off, clearing his throat. “Did I stutter, human?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go then.” You huff, as Suguru’s assistants eagerly set up the stage he’s to be on, and you’re both behind this dumb fucking curtain. “You’re pretentious as fuck.”

“What did you say?” He demands, brows lowering, and you laugh then, shaking your head.

“A stage, a microphone, as if you’re something so profound, and not some angry little fucking emo bitch.” Suguru glares now, smacking you right in the face, instantly hating himself more when you blink rapidly, and he sees the mark on your face.

You’re both silent then, as he just stares at what he did, but you smile suddenly, as he stutters. “I… you…I should-”

“Thank you,” you cut him off then. “For a moment sometimes I forget how fucking horrible you are.” As you turn away, you’re slipping your hair to the other side of your face, so that it’s even more apparent. “So they can see you treat humans how you should, right? Beneath you.”

Suguru’s heart pounds in his chest now, you’ve slapped him, he’s said the nastiest things, you’ve both declared hate. He’s slaughtered fucking villages, but something about his hand print on your cheek feels just too far. What’s he become, what’s he doing, why does he care if you’re hurt? Soon you and all of useless humanity will be dead.

Even if he keeps you around, who would you have? You’d be some toy, a pretty prisoner for his pleasure. You’re nothing, nothing, nothing.

Nothing.

You look at him curiously, as you wait for him to signal for the curtain to lift, standing so damn strong and proud, you remind him of his friends, of people he’s loved and lost. Your resilience in the face of everything, it’s stupid but admirable, fuck he’s admiring you, he’s…

He’s caring for you.

He’s desiring you more than anyone.

He’s upset that he just hurt you, more upset than you clearly are, what do you expect from a monster, but this, but coldness, cruelty. He’d shown you no affection aside from a small brush of his lips on your shoulder, a kiss on your clit, those were sexual. He doesn’t show you anything else but his cruelty.

“Are you going to start?” You ask, voice not even shaken, wearing his smack like a badge of honor, not sensing the inner turmoil. “Need to hit the other one, make it even or something?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You blink then, and he grabs your face, thumb brushing over raised skin, he’s too strong, you’re too pathetic and small. “Useless, weak, stupid little human.”

You go to open your mouth when he slams his lips against yours, you exhale at the sensation, yanking back in confusion at how your lips tingle, how your heart hammers in your ears. You panic as you feel it, something far different than anything before.

You can’t.

“I’d rather you hit me than kiss me.”

“I bet you would.” He drags you back to his lips again, stumbling as the onlookers from behind see what’s unfolding, mad passionate and angry kisses, teeth clicking, as you bite his lower lip till you draw blood, and he laughs at you.

“Don’t fucking kiss me.” You watch as he touches the blood on his lips, hearing a low moan that makes no sense.

“You have something, there is cursed energy, there has to be.” You laugh at him then, outright, as he studies you in the dark.

“There are no excuses for you, I’m all human. If you like anything about me, even if it’s just my pussy, I’m human.”

He curses under his breath, as you right yourself, and he aches to…

Goddamit Suguru Geto wants to apologize.

To a human, a monkey, someone beneath him, the cause of all wrong with the goddamn world. You all cause it all.

Right?

But he can’t live with smacking you now, it makes him sick, he wonders what younger him would think, would say. He wonders what Satoru would think, but then, Satoru’s long since given up on him, he’s sure. The havoc he’s brought for the past eight years alone is unforgivable, he wonders… is he going too far? But he can’t make those thoughts tangible, not now.

“You can go to your rooms if you wish.” Is all he says, and you look at him in shock again. “If you don’t… feel well now.”

“Why would you care how I feel? I’m a tool.” As you spit his own words back at him, he can do nothing but agree.

“Then let’s begin.” The curtains lift, and it’s a different Suguru than you know, he’s laughing and joking, and pointing, as he spews the most vile things about humans he can, and you’re just sitting there next to him. The few humans he allows look almost as terrified as you do, as you tremble and try to hold it together.

When it’s finally over, you go to head to your chambers, and he pauses you, a hand on your waist, you look up at him curiously. “I’ll have you tonight.”

“Again?” You whisper, he drags you now, away from your chamber, you blink in confusion as he pulls you further down the halls. Mimiko and Nanako wave at you curiously, and he pats their heads and murmurs a fond good night, before taking you by your wrist once more. “Why your room?”

“Why ask endless questions, human?” You go to protest as you enter his room for the first time, but you can’t speak once he’s got you against the door, barred with his arms. “What exactly are you?”

“I’m a human, Lord Geto.”

“That’s what you call me, huh?” Your jaw locks, when he cups your face, right where he hit you prior, you can still feel the shock, the sting.

“I could call you an emo bitch, but you like to smack for that, and I’d like my jaw intact.” He exhales now, forehead resting against yours, once again, too intimate, too close. “Don’t kiss me again, if I can ask anything.”

“You think you get to ask things from me?” You shake your head. “Hate kissing me, huh?”

“Despise it. More than anything.” His lips are a breath away from yours, when he turns you, having you face the door, hands pressed on the cool wood, and he’s slipping your dress up your hips.

“Spread your thighs.” You keep them together, frustrating him to no end.

Imagine if you wanted him.

If this was your choice.

“Fine, stupid little monkey.” He spreads them for you, finding you soaking wet, clicking sounds as his fingers pump in and out, and your head falls back, as you moan out loud.

“I hate you, Suguru.” You whisper softly, he dies then, at the use of his name, from your perfect lips, shoving two fingers inside you to the knuckle, you’re drooling down his hands, down his sleeves.

“I know you do, it’s what humans do, it’s how you create them. Fuck you’re soaked.” You blink as you register his words, as he turns you again, dropping to his knees, you gasp at the sight.

“I’ll cum without it. You don’t have to.” You whisper, knowing this man’s tongue makes you stupid, him on his knees makes you stupid, you can barely function when he puts a leg on his broad shoulder.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up I wondered? But then I realized, this is the only time you do.” He buries his face against your hot, eager pussy again, and you don’t even try to fight it, your head smacks the wall as his mouth finds you.

“It’s the only time I don’t h-hate you completely…” He chuckles, and you damn near laugh at the insanity, when he presses a kiss on your inner thigh, biting it between his teeth as you’re trembling.

“Mutually beneficial.”

“That’s it. The only reason.”

“Right.” He buries his face against you, moaning as he sucks your clit into his hot mouth, and you’re cumming then and there, pulling on this psycho’s silly locks, as he drinks every bit of cum you produce, dying for you to scream his name.

Insanity.

You’re insanity.

He’s humming as he’s got your little clit in his mouth, looking at you under long lush lashes as you cum so hard you nearly fall, clinging to him barely. He drags you down then, slamming you on the floor and shoving his cock fully in, groaning and kissing you once more, you shove at his chest.

“Fuck me, don’t kiss me, d-don’t.”

“You should taste yourself, stupid little pathetic bitch. How good you taste, what you fucking do.” You glare, but he’s kissing you again, as he fucks you, and it’s overwhelming, the dizziness, how good it is, how perfect he feels. “Prefer me to spit it in your mouth?”

“What!?” He spits then, as he holds your mouth open, chuckling darkly.

“Swallow.”

Why do you obey!?

It’s hard to hate a man who eats pussy and fucks like the god he thinks he is, though you’d never fucking let him know.

Suguru can’t get enough of you after that night, not even fucking close, and soon you’re in a whole cult meeting, and you’re cockwarming him. You hate this - you want to hate it at least- you tell yourself, the fact that you’re casually in his lap in front of hundreds of followers, as he’s spewing hatred, all while being shoved deep in your pussy.

You’re soaking him down to his balls, his thighs, as his veiny cock just pulses inside you, unmoving, and you feel how hot your cheeks are, your ears, trying desperately not to move. Suguru hears someone ask about you then, referring to you as a ‘monkey’ and he glares, before flinging a curse in their direction, cock twitching in your tight entrance.

All of this mind you while he has a goddamn creepy one eyed curse just standing with a morbid grin. This psycho holds a meeting while he’s buried eight inches deep in your cunt, with curses and curse users all around, not missing a single word. You look at him and hate him more, and you still hate him, even when you’re left alone, and he finally moves you up and down him.

“F-fuck… feel you… stupid, pathetic pussy so wet?” You shake your head when he lifts you off and spins you, putting you on top of him. He’s fucking up into you now, grabbing your ass as you cling to him on his plush cushions, and the angle feels so good your eyes roll back, head lolling to the side.

“F-fuck you, Suguru.” He groans at that, at his name, picking you up and slamming him down on his sensitive cock, as you eye the creepy ass curse, mumbling - ‘it’s f-fucking watching’.

Suguru laughs then, not a dark chuckle, it’s… real, as he brushes your hair back and flips you on your back for a moment, studying you with mirth in his eyes. For just one moment, as the curse disintegrates, you think… Is there more to him, is that glimmer a piece of who he used to be?

No, there can’t be.

“A whole room watched you sitting on my cock, but you mind the curse?” He’s… being teasing? You just glare, and he laughs again, enjoying it too much, enjoying you far too much.

He should worry about that, but you look too pretty, especially when he folds you in a mating press, making you suck in a breath, eyes wide on him. “This is how babies are best made, how you'll take my cum.”

You just nod weakly, while he's slamming into you, even though you've taken him many times now, the stretch and how deep he hit were too much to take. Your hands grip his back, nails digging in, and he groans at it, as he folds you under his weight, his full lips parted, eyes boring into yours, watching as you struggle to take him.

“You should beg me, for my cum inside you.”

“Hah- n-never.” He glares, pressing harder on the backs of your thighs, fucking you rougher and rougher, until you’re both shattering messes, and he’s cum so deep you feel him everywhere. You shove at him when he lays atop of you after a moment, your thighs falling to the side, as you try to get yourself together. “Beg you? You’re even more delusional than I thought.”

“You can’t keep lying.” He brushes your hair back, jaw locking as he studies your fucked out face. “You fucking love it, me inside you. Bet you have never felt anything better in your shitty human existence.”

Your teeth clench together. “You’re a conceited, arrogant, psychotic, delusional man.”

“That’s all?” He asks, raising a brow.

“With a good dick, yes, that doesn’t matter. How long till you kill me? Till you kill everyone?” He pauses, watching your perfect breasts heave up and down, as your little hands now push on his chest. “Sure, I enjoy it, what do you care, Suguru?”

“I… you just… why do…” How do you make him stutter, a man like him, a puny little girl like you have him on his knees, have him obsessed, you’re all he can even fucking think of.

You can’t fall into this, into him, with his beautiful face and his sad fucking eyes, you can’t fix this man, there’s no fixing the psychotic nature of him. As badly as you want to, as much as you feel that you keep in, that’s brimming to the surface as you lean up on your elbows, and tears make their way out of your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

Suguru pauses, as you can’t hold it back anymore, as he’s pulling back, out of you, making a mess with all of your fluids, making you feel empty. “What does it matter if I enjoy something when I’ll be dead soon? Will you… kill our baby if it’s human too?”

Suguru scowls now, on his knees, as you hastily cover up, hands shaking. “What the fuck do you mean, powers are genetic-”

“No, you don’t know that. What if one kid has em, one doesn’t huh? Gonna kill one of my kids?” He blinks rapidly, opening his mouth as you stand, and he looks up at you. “You better hope I’m long dead if you do, because I will make sure that’s the last thing you ever do.”

“Will you fucking stop?” He is standing now, grabbing your shoulders, as you shake your head, heart ripping into pieces.

“I can’t feel things for you.” You say, more to yourself than him. “Yes, pathetic monkeys feel things. As you said, too much. We cause them, yeah?”

He gulps now, hands squeezing your shoulders too tightly. “Yes, you cause them, all of it. If not for humanity, then-”

“Then what would you do? If a kid doesn’t have any cursed energy?”

“I wouldn’t kill them.” He whispers, and you laugh without humor.

“No, I can’t believe that. Where’s your line, Suguru Geto? Where does this end for you, for anyone?” He pauses as a human girl destroys him with her looks, when you cup his face for just a moment, making his heart falter. “That Suguru I met, he was sweet. I actually had a crush.” Your words speak to something, he’s transfixed, refusing to believe it.

“You were staring at Gojo.” You shake your head and smile.

“That’s what you saw. Yeah, your friend is something to look at for sure. But no, it was you that day I had eyes on. Felt butterflies.” You can’t believe you’re saying it, that he’s… listening, for just a moment. You sigh. “Do you ever miss him? The guy that you were?”

Yes.

No.

He can’t.

Suguru says nothing as you drop your hands, tugging your robes closed. “Can you summon Sashimi?”

“You named it fucking Sashimi?” You glare, a little back to normal, but he dresses, summoning him for you, as you sigh a bit.

“I’m really sore, okay? Can I go rest?” Suguru scoffs, feigning as if he could care less, when he wants you again, more of you, all of you, like a black hole that’s sucking him in deeper and deeper.

“Can’t handle dick with your puny little body?” He taunts, instead of just… Saying it.

“Not this much. You could get your-”

“I don’t go to anyone.” You blink in surprise, as he confirms what you had assumed a bit from Manami.

“Why?”

Suguru scoffs, rolling his violet eyes. “Why!? I don’t have to explain myself to a pathetic-”

“Yeah, never mind. Come on Sashimi.” You walk off, leaving him to swipe a hand across his face, your scent is all over him, your slick still on his cock, his fingers still taste like you.

“Fuck.” He grumbles, as his room spins, as he’s covered in you, consumed by you, wondering…

Did he miss who he was?

No, surely not. He sets his jaw, you’ve taken so much of his mind, and he has much to do, heading to his room alone, but he can’t focus, all he does is stare at his ceiling, thinking of you, of your words. Your face, your body, your eyes that see right fucking through him.

God, Suguru hates you.

A/N LMAO why did I think I could do anything short? I need four parts now not three my baddd babess lol. But I hope you're enjoying psycho whipped Sugu- the monkey thing should lessen as he gets more pathetic hehe. Tysm for all the comments and love !?! I am excited to see what ya'll think hehe

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[rafesangelita]

♡ “i think i’m a little bit, little bit, a little bit in love with you.”— your ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement with rafe comes to an ultimate end when he suddenly says the ‘L’ word while he’s inside of you..

warnings: fwb!rafe, f2l, unprotected sex, praise, slight angst, confessions, mutual pining, fluff, soft aftercare

a/n: now presenting… ‘BE MINE?’ 🤍 me and ‘little bit’ by lykke li will always be locked in!!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

ignorance truly was bliss.

here you were, ignoring the way your heart fluttered and ached at the sight of the man who was currently fucking you into oblivion. of course, rafe wasn’t just any man— no, he was your best friend. while you two were terrified of messing up your friendship with a label other than ‘just friends’, it didn’t stop neither of you from falling for each other, both of you resorting to sex with a bullshit ‘no strings attached’ rule that you two obviously didn’t follow. if spending your nights tangled up in each other’s sheets was the only way to be together non-platonically, then so be it.

rafe had his thumb inbetween your lips, your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist as he slammed into you at an unforgiving pace. you don’t know how long you two have been going at it, or how many orgasms you’ve had, but the only way you could describe how you felt right now was stupid. unable to form a single thought, you sucked on rafe’s digit while he lost himself, his head rolling to the side as your walls sucked him in. “h-holy shit!” his hips stuttered, a whimper leaving your lips when you felt the hot spurts of rafe’s cum paint your insides.

rafe felt the shocks of his orgasm ripple through his body, his body collapsing on top of your own as he writhed in pure unadulterated pleasure. “i.. shit— i fucking love you.” he panted, cradling your head before leaving sloppy kisses against the sensitive flesh of your neck. you sucked in a breath, his words hitting you right where it hurt. blinking rapidly, you heard your heart beating in your ears as your mind began racing a million miles per minute.

did he really mean that?

was he just talking about the sex?

what if he just said it on accident?

you couldn’t focus on anything else. it wasn’t until rafe rolled over, his lips trailing across your chest before he saw the conflicted look on your face. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you wanted to scoff but settled for a slight shake of your head instead. “you just said you loved me.” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he swallowed thickly, both of you looking at each other with a knowing look in your eyes.

“i know.”

rafe watched as you sat up, crossing your arms over your chest. “you can’t just say that casually, rafe..” you muttered, suddenly feeling exposed despite being naked in front of him a countless amount of times. rafe moved closer, his hand trailing underneath the plush comforter. rubbing circles into the soft flesh of your thigh, rafe sighed before flashing you a soft smile. “there’s nothing casual about what i said,” he started, “it might’ve came out at a questionable time but i meant it.” rafe met your gaze under the dim lighting of his room, the intensity in his stare making goosebumps spread across your skin.

you stayed silent, pondering his words and the weight they carried. of course you felt the same, there was no doubt about that, but to say that you weren’t scared of what this meant would be a lie. you two were entering a new kind of territory. this wasn’t just ‘friendly’ sleepovers anymore, it was more complicated than that. you had sworn off any man that wasn’t rafe, your best friend consuming every fiber of your being. little did you know, rafe had been exclusive with you since he realized he couldn’t stand to not be near you. he needed to see you, talk to you, touch you everyday.

you had undoubtedly made a home for yourself in his brain and his heart, and he had no intentions of ever kicking you out. “do you really?” you couldn’t help but ask, your fingertips finding his under the covers. rafe studied your face, engraving your features into his mind as he thought about what to say next. “i’m gonna tell you something..” he pulled you close, caging you between his arms as he traced the soft curve of your lips, “i can’t pinpoint exactly when i started feeling this way, apart of me thinks i always have, you just made it easier for me to realize it.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke.

“everyone on this island has their own idea of me, but you? you know me for who i really am. i’ve never had to put on a show, i’ve never had to fear judgement from you. you just get me, you know?” you felt so warm and fuzzy inside, you couldn’t help but bury your face in his chest. “i love you too, rafe.” he felt like he could breathe when that sentence finally sounded from your mouth, his shoulders relaxing as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “yeah?” he pulled away to cup your face as you nodded. “yeah, i just— i didn’t know how to go about something like this.”

rafe hummed in agreement, both of you looking at each other momentarily before leaning in for a kiss. once your lips touched, you felt relief wash over you; months of pent up tension leaving your body. rafe couldn’t believe that everything was out in the open now. “well, our anniversary date is impossible to forget since it’s on valentine’s day.” your heart fluttered in your chest at the proposition. “anniversary date?” you repeated. “yeah.. you didn’t think we’d be single after this, did you?” you giggled against his lips, welcoming him between your thighs again.

“no, i suppose not.”

[vixen-flame]

girl, she's skinnier than my fucking EATING DISORDER GF. She's skinnier than the girl who STARVED HERSELF FOR YEARS AND PHYSICALLY CAN'T EAT TOO MUCH FOOD AT ONCE BECAUSE THEIR STOMACH LITERALLY ISN'T BIG ENOUGH. for absolutely fuck sake. I'm fatter than her. And like, for as much as I hate myself and think I'm fat, I can do fucking parkour and I'm mostly just a lil chubby ToT this girl ain't fucking fat I swear to fucking god I'm actually going to crash out this is ridiculous this is awful this girl needs some fucking calories omfg I hate it here.

ppl talking Abt Genshin impact debuting a """"fat"""" character whose weight plays a role in her combat while being cow themed is funny because that concept could have cooked but then you remember it's genshin impact and they absolutely get horrified over the idea of adding a character with melanin.

[cressidagrey]

The mysterious Mrs. Piastri

We are interrupting our regularly scheduled programming for a Valentine's Day Treat. Remember that video where Oscar was asked "Get married or get a tattoo?" Well, it showed up on my FYP and I was like..:WAIT

Summary: 

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even. Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even.

Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

It had started innocently enough, just another fan stage, just another round of questions.

“Oscar, would you rather get married or get a tattoo?”

Easy. Straightforward. Oscar barely had to think before responding, “Well, I already did one of those things.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

Because one second later, Lando spat out his drink.

“YOU GOT A TATTOO?!”

Oscar turned, confused. “What? No.”

Lando, looking equal parts betrayed and horrified, pointed an accusing finger. “Mate, I’ve seen you in swim trunks. There’s no way you have a tattoo. Where is it?”

Oscar frowned. “I don’t have a tattoo.”

Lando’s face twisted in confusion. “But you just said—” He stopped. His eyes widened. Oscar could see the moment his brain caught up.

“WAIT. WAIT.” Lando practically jumped out of his seat. “YOU’RE MARRIED?!” Lando looked genuinely stunned, his mouth hanging open in shock. 

Oscar nodded, calm as ever. “Yeah.”

Lando’s reaction was not calm. Lando let out a strangled, guttural noise, kind of sounding like an indignant cat.

“WHAT?!”

The interviewer, who had been mostly observing up until now, leaned forward, eyes shining with the excitement of a woman who had just stumbled upon the biggest scoop of the season. “Okay, hold on. You mean married married? Like, legally?”

Oscar frowned. “Is there another kind?”

Lando’s hands were now on his head, his entire world seemingly crumbling around him. “SINCE WHEN?!”

Oscar shrugged. “A while now.”

The crowd lost it. The interviewer looked like Christmas had come early. The McLaren PR team, wherever they were, was probably having a collective heart attack.

Lando’s jaw dropped. “I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND.”

Oscar frowned. “You know that," he told Lando pointedly.

“I DO NOT KNOW THAT,” Lando shouted. “WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED A GIRLFRIEND—LET ALONE A WIFE?!”

Oh well. Oscar just shrugged. “Well. I do. She’s amazing. 10/10. Would always marry her again.”

Lando let out a hysterical laugh. “Wait, wait, wait. No, no. You’re telling me you have a freaking WIFE?!”

The interviewer seized the moment. “Okay, no, we need details. How long have you been together?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Since we were 15."

Lando made a strangled noise. “15?! YOU’VE BEEN WITH HER SINCE YOU WERE 15?!”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

The interviewer looked delighted. “How did you meet?”

Oscar tilted his head. “School?”

Lando groaned and turned to the audience. “Look at this guy. Look at him. Of course he’s been secretly married this whole time. Of course.”

The interviewer pressed on. “When did you get married?”

Oscar shrugged. “When I was 18.”

The entire crowd erupted. Fans were screaming, phones were recording, and McLaren PR was definitely hyperventilating somewhere.

Lando, meanwhile, looked like his whole world had just collapsed in real-time.

“You—you got MARRIED at EIGHTEEN?!” he wheezed. “WHY?!”

Oscar looked at him like he was stupid.  “Because I wanted to? Because I love her?”

The interviewer cooed over the answer. Lando physically recoiled. “What, like straight out of high school?!”

Oscar frowned. “Not straight out of high school. We waited a bit.”

“HOW LONG IS A BIT?!” Lando demanded.

Oscar thought about it. “Like… three weeks after graduation?”

Lando let out a strangled noise. “THAT’S NOT A BIT, OSCAR. THAT’S BASICALLY IMMEDIATELY.”

Lando dramatically fell back in his chair. The interviewer, meanwhile, was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Okay, okay, follow-up question—how did you propose?”

Oscar thought about it. “I asked her to marry me.”

The interviewer stared. “…That’s it?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

Lando threw his hands in the air. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

The interviewer, trying desperately to salvage something remotely romantic, asked, “Where did you propose?”

Oscar, as if this were a perfectly reasonable answer, said, “Uh. At home?”

The interviewer looked at him. "...At home?"

"On the bed," Oscar added.

Lando looked like he was going to have an aneurysm.

The crowd groaned. The interviewer looked physically pained. Lando just laughed in disbelief. “I knew you’d be the most unromantic bastard alive.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “She said yes.”

Lando wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. “That poor woman.”

The interviewer shook her head in awe. “Oscar, mate, I have to ask—how did you manage to keep this a secret for so long?”

Oscar blinked. “No one asked?”

Lando just screamed.

The interviewer, who had completely abandoned all pretense of professionalism, leaned forward. “Okay, wait, wait, who is she?”

Oscar blinked. “My wife?”

Lando threw up his hands. “YES, OBVIOUSLY, but who is she? What’s her name? Where’s she from? What does she do?”

Oscar's forehead creased. "Is that... relevant?"

The interviewer just about had a stroke. Lando looked like he was going to spontaneously combust.

The fans were losing their freaking minds.

Lando nearly fell out of his chair. “YOU’VE BEEN MARRIED FOR YEARS AND I’VE NEVER MET HER.”

“I mean, I thought it was obvious?”

“OBVIOUS TO WHO?!” Lando yelled. “BECAUSE IT WASN’T OBVIOUS TO ME.”

Oscar just shrugged. 

Lando groaned. “Mate, I DIDN’T KNOW SHE EXISTED!”

Lando looked like he was seconds from grabbing Oscar and shaking him until some kind of information fell out. "Okay, I can't believe I have to ask this, but why the hell didn't you tell me?”

"I thought you knew," Oscar answered simply.

Lando just gaped. "How on earth would I have known?"

Oscar shrugged. The interviewer, meanwhile, was leaning closer, clearly invested in the whole thing now.

Lando, apparently having had enough, decided on a different tactic. Lando pointed at him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not getting away with this. You are going to introduce me to your wife.”

Oscar sighed, clearly knowing a losing battle when he saw one. “Fine,” he said after a moment.

Lando sat back, satisfied. “Good.” Then he paused. “Wait—does anyone else know? Like, do the team know?”

Oscar shrugged. “I think Zak does.”

Lando made a strangled noise. “Why does Zak get to know?!”

Oscar pointed out, “Because he’s my boss?”

The interviewer, clearly having thrown all professionalism out the window, was just enjoying the chaos. Lando looked like he wanted to scream. “But I’m your friend!”

Somewhere in the background, McLaren PR was probably losing their minds, trying to figure out how to handle the fact that Oscar Piastri, their quiet, low-maintenance driver, had accidentally revealed he’d been married since he was 18.

Not Oscar’s problem, though...After he escaped Lando Norris' clutches.

He had a wife to call after all.

Oscar Piastri was a man of routine.

He liked predictability. Consistency. A life largely free of unnecessary chaos.

Which was exactly why, after the complete meltdown that was today’s fan stage, he had retreated to his driver’s room, shut the door, and pulled out his phone. If there was one thing in his life that wasn’t chaotic, it was his wife.

The call rang twice before she picked up.

“Hey, love,” she greeted, her face appearing on screen. She was sitting in their apartment, hair tied up, wearing one of his hoodies. 

Oscar felt himself relax immediately. “Hey.”

She smiled at him. “So, how was your day?”

Oscar sighed. “Lando found out we’re married.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh.” A pause. “He… didn’t know?”

Oscar shook his head. "I thought he did."

She let out a small laugh at that. "How the hell did you think he knew?"

Oscar shrugged. "I dunno. We've been married for, what, five years now? How could he not know?"

Her smile widened. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're about as romantic as a cactus?"

Oscar let out a huff. "I can be romantic."

Before she could respond, there was a loud banging on the door, followed by—

“LET ME IN, PIASTRI!”

Oscar sighed through his nose. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

His wife bit her lip, clearly seconds away from laughing. “Is that…?”

“YOU HAVE EXACTLY THREE SECONDS BEFORE I BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN AND—”

Oscar hung his head. “Yes.”

She was laughing now, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad because it was an adorable sound.

The banging continued. “I CAN HEAR YOU IN THERE. STOP IGNORING ME, OSCAR.”

His wife bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “You should probably let him in before he tries to break the door down.”

Oscar debated not letting him in, but realistically, Lando would either A) find a way in, or B) make this everyone else’s problem.

So, with a long-suffering sigh, he got up and opened the door.

Lando barreled in immediately, eyes wild.

“WHERE IS SHE?!?” he demanded. “I NEED TO SEE HER WITH MY OWN EYES.”

Oscar sighed, holding up the phone. “She’s on FaceTime, you absolute lunatic.”

Lando’s head whipped around, and he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to the couch. He pushed past Oscar with a huff, then stared, wide-eyed, at the phone.

Lando was silent. For once.

His wife was, bless her soul, doing her best to fight her laughter at the look on Lando’s face. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Lando.”

Lando just continued to gape.

Then, slowly, he pointed an accusatory finger at the screen. “You’re real.”

She laughed. “I hope so.”

Lando turned to Oscar, looking personally betrayed. “SHE’S REAL.”

Oscar sighed. “I know.”

Lando turned back to the phone. “And you married him? At eighteen?!?”

She smiled. “Yep.”

Lando reeled. “WHY?!”

She tilted her head. “Because I love him?”

Lando looked like his entire world had been completely shaken. “You love him,” he repeated, staring incredulously down at her.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Oi, mate, why’s that so hard to believe?”

Lando just groaned in exasperation. “You do not understand how hard it is, being friends with a guy for literal years, and never knowing he had a girlfriend—let alone a WIFE.”

“Mate, I’m pretty sure that says more about you than me,” Oscar told him bluntly.

Lando shot him a glare. “Oh, and you’re what? Mister Emotional Intelligence? You’ve been hiding this for years!”

Oscar shrugged. “Never came up in conversation.”

Lando looked horrified. “Don’t put this on me!”

Oscar shrugged. “You never asked.”

Lando flopped onto the couch, rubbing his face. “Unbelievable.”

His wife stifled a laugh, the corners of her mouth tugging upward as she watched Lando in his current state.

Lando, meanwhile, had moved to the “trying to wrap his head around this situation” portion of his breakdown.

“Okay, no. We’re fixing this. Immediately.”

Oscar sighed. “Lando—”

Lando pointed at the phone. “I need to meet her.”

Oscar sighed. “Fine. Silverstone.”

Lando gasped. “Really?!?”

Oscar deadpanned. “No, I just said it for fun.”

Lando turned back to the phone. “Mrs. Piastri, I will see you at Silverstone.”

She laughed. “Looking forward to it.”

Lando nodded firmly, then turned back to Oscar. “I will be grilling you for details later.”

Oscar sighed. “Of course you will.”

Lando stood dramatically. “Good. Carry on.” And then he walked out like he had just personally fixed the situation.

Oscar turned back to his wife, who was fully laughing.

“I love Lando,” she said. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened.”

Oscar sighed. “I regret everything.”

She smirked. “Love you.”

Oscar huffed. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

And somewhere, in the distance, Lando was plotting.

****

@/oscarpiastri ✅

Posted: 1 day ago

Caption:

So, the internet (and, more importantly, Lando) just found out I’m married.

To be honest, I didn’t think it was a secret. I’ve been married for years. I assumed people knew. Turns out, I was very, very wrong.

Yes, I’m married. Have been for five years this summer.

So, meet my wife—my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and the only one who has somehow put up with me for this long.

We met when we were 15. Two kids at boarding school, thrown together by pure chance. The only open seat in class was next to me, so she took it. I stole a pen from her once—completely by accident—but she still let me borrow her pens after that. Eventually, she started carrying a second one just for me. I told myself that meant something.

She always knew when I was having a bad day, even when I hadn’t said a word. She made school bearable, made exams feel less stressful, made me laugh even when all I wanted to do was complain. Somewhere between stolen lunch breaks and long walks back to the dorms, between late-night study sessions and whispered conversations about the future, I fell in love with her. Quietly, all at once and over time. I knew by the time we were 15—maybe even before then.

She was my best friend first. The person I trusted most. The one who understood the parts of my life that didn’t always make sense to everyone else. By the time I worked up the nerve to tell her how I felt, she just smiled and said, ‘I was wondering when you’d figure that out.’ Like she had known all along.

When I left school to chase this ridiculous dream, she didn’t ask me to stay. She just told me she’d be there, no matter how far I went. And she was. Through every win, every loss, every moment of self-doubt.

So when we turned 18, we didn’t wait. Three weeks after graduation, we walked into a registry office in London, signed a piece of paper, and walked out married. No grand ceremony, no expensive dress. Just us, two rings we picked out in under twenty minutes, and a promise we already knew we’d keep.

We told our families afterward. Some took it better than others.

I know getting married at 18 sounds a little mad. People told us we were too young, that we should wait, that we were being reckless. But why? I had no doubt in my mind then, and I have none now.

She’s still the first person I call after every race, no matter the result. She’s the one who tells me to go to bed when I’m up too late on the sim, who reminds me to eat when I forget, who talks me down when I start overthinking. She’s been with me through everything. Through junior categories to F1, through every high and every low, through the moments I wanted to quit and the ones where I felt like I was on top of the world.

She’s my best friend, my greatest love, the only person who can call me out on my nonsense and get away with it.

So, no, I don’t have a tattoo. But I do have a wife. The person who still looks at me like I’m just that 15-year-old kid stealing a pen and falling in love before he even realizes it’s happening.

I have no idea how I convinced her to marry me, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

10/10, would always marry her again. ❤️

Comments:

@/landonorris: FIVE YEARS??? YOU HAVE BEEN MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS???

↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I assumed you knew. ↪️ @/landonorris: WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED HAVING A WIFE???

↪️ @/mrspiastri: He does this thing where he forgets people don’t just know things.

@/danielricciardo: High school sweethearts. Eloped at 18. Best plot twist of the season.

@/mclaren: We have so many questions.↪️ @mrspiastri: Submit them in an organized document, I’ll answer the best ones.

@/f1updates: Today in ‘Oscar Piastri casually drops life-changing information’—he has a whole wife. Lando learned this at the same time as the rest of us.

@/lanoscult: Not Lando finding out with the fans and having a full existential crisis on stage 💀💀💀

@/thef1editz: POV: You just found out your best friend has been MARRIED FOR YEARS and never told you (attached video of Lando’s reaction with dramatic music)

@/wagsf1: WE NEED A FULL BOARDING SCHOOL LOVE STORY IMMEDIATELY.

@/f1tea: No thoughts, just Lando yelling ‘WHO GETS MARRIED AT 18’ like he was personally betrayed.

@/padlockthegrid: We’ve been watching this man for YEARS and never once suspected a wife??

@/georgerussell63: I feel like this is something you announce at a dinner, not in front of an audience.

↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I thought I had mentioned it. ↪️ @/landonorris: YOU DID NOT.

@/charles_leclerc: This is the greatest plot twist in F1 history.

@/fernandoalo_oficial: I respect this level of secrecy.

@/chaoticneutralf1: Oscar Piastri is terrifying. He just DOES things and assumes people KNOW.

@/mclaren: Oscar, any other life-altering facts you’ve forgotten to mention? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not that I can think of. ↪️ @/landonorris: I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT.

@/mrspiastri: 10/10, would marry him again. (Even if he forgets to tell people.) ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Love you too. ❤️

@/danielricciardo: Oscar, mate, do you have any other shocking secrets? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not really. ↪️ @/landonorris: I AM NOT CONVINCED.

@/chaoticgrid: I will think about this every day for the rest of my life.

@/mrspiastri

Posted: 2h ago

Caption:

"So. Yesterday happened.

Since Oscar apparently forgot that telling people you’re married is something you actually have to do, I’ve spent the last 24 hours watching the internet lose its collective mind. You guys have questions. Lots of them. So, let’s go:

1. Wait… Oscar is MARRIED?!

Yes. Since we were 18. I know, I know. We should have made a big announcement. Or at the very least told his teammate. Oops.

2. When did you get married?!Right after we graduated. We were 18, ran off to London, signed a piece of paper, and then told our families. In hindsight, we probably should have done that last part beforehand, but hey, we were young and in love (and slightly impulsive).

3. Why so young?Because we were sure. It wasn’t impulsive—it was inevitable. People told us we were crazy, that we should wait, that we’d change. But we didn’t. We grew up together, and we only ever grew toward each other. If I had to choose again, I’d do it exactly the same way.

3. How did you two meet?We were 15, stuck at boarding school, and Oscar stole my pen. He swears it was an accident. I maintain that it was the moment he decided to make me fall in love with him.

5. Did you really not tell Lando?I thought he knew! Everyone close to us does! I assumed Oscar had mentioned it at some point, but, well… you all saw what happened. Apparently, Oscar’s ‘private life’ policy extended to his teammate of three years. Which is why we all got to witness his public breakdown in real-time.

5. Does this mean you’re an F1 WAG?Technically? Yes. Do I have the outfit coordination and expensive handbag collection to back it up? No. I do steal Oscar’s team hoodies, so that counts, right?

6. What’s your favorite thing about Oscar?The way he loves—quietly, steadily, with his whole heart. He still waits up for me if I’m out late, still kisses my forehead when he thinks I’m asleep, still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves like he did back when he was karting. I’ve loved him for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way.

7. And since Oscar said ‘10/10 would always marry her again,’ what’s your answer? 10/10. No regrets, no hesitation, no doubt. I’d marry him a thousand times over.

Comments: 

@/landonorris: I’M STILL NOT OVER THIS. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I’m never going to live this down, am I? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. But I love you anyway.

@/danielricciardo: This is the kind of romance novel material I expect from an F1 WAG.

@/mclaren: We demand a Netflix special on this.

@/wagsf1: This is the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Please post more.

@/f1updates: The way she said ‘10/10’ like it was the easiest question ever 😭💖

@/wagsf1: He still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves??? I’M GONNA CRY.

@/f1updates: This woman just broke the internet by being casually, devastatingly in love.

@/f1fangirl92: The way this man has been secretly in love since he was FIFTEEN is actually lethal.”

@/fanaccountoscarpiastri: So what I’m getting is that Oscar is out here winning races and marriage. I respect it.

@/paddockinsider: Be so honest. What did people say when they found out you guys eloped? @/mrspiastri: Oh, everyone thought we were insane. Random people who barely knew us were convinced we’d crash and burn. Now we get a lot of, ‘Wow, you guys really made it work.’ ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Wasn’t hard.

@/f1obsessed: Did you guys ever break up? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. Not once. Not even a ‘we were on a break’ situation. We’ve been together since we were 15, which is wild when I think about it.

@/fanofeverything: Why did Oscar keep it a secret??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: It wasn’t a secret so much as… he never felt the need to bring it up? It’s not like he was hiding me in a basement somewhere lol. He just doesn’t talk about personal stuff unless someone asks directly. Which, apparently, no one did.

@/gridgossip: So who knew? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark. Andrea. Probably Zak? Our families, obviously. And, um. That might be it?

@/paddockinsider: Did Oscar just assume that everyone knew you guys were married? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. 100%. This man did not think to mention it because he thought it was ‘obvious. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: “OBVIOUS TO WHO??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: To him. He just figured if someone asked if he was married, he’d say yes. But since no one did, he saw no need to bring it up. ↪️@/landonorris: HOW IS THAT YOUR LOGIC. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No one asked. ↪️@/landonorris: I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND.

@/f1insider: We need more details about Mark Webber finding out. ↪️@/mrspiastri: I swear I saw his soul leave his body. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, EXPLAIN YOURSELF. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Didn’t seem necessary to tell him at the time ↪️@/landonorris: “HOW IS MARRIAGE NOT NECESSARY INFORMATION???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark Webber sat Oscar down like a disappointed dad and was like, ‘Mate. How do you just… forget to mention you’re married? ↪️@/mclarenupdates: “And what did Oscar say??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: “He just shrugged and went, ‘Not really relevant to racing. ↪️@/landonorris: “I NEED TO LIE DOWN.”

@/paddockdrama: People always joke that Oscar is a robot. Does that ever bother him? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. I once asked him and he just shrugged and went ‘Doesn’t bother me. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone as long as you know how much I love you.’ ↪️@/landonorris: NO BECAUSE WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY WHEN I TOLD HIM I GOT P2 AND HE JUST WENT ‘NICE’??? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: It was nice.

@/paddockgossip: “Did ANY other drivers know???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar’s Prema teammates figured it out. The rest of the grid? Oblivious. ↪️@/landonorris: How did Oscar never accidentally spill?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He doesn’t overshare. Meanwhile, I am still in awe that he just assumed people knew.

@/foreverf1: Wait, I need to know—who said ‘I love you’ first? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar did. Completely out of nowhere, too. We were 16, lying on the floor doing homework, and he just looked over and went, ‘Oh. I love you.’ Like he just realized it in real time.

@/f1teaqueen: Okay but like… NO COLD FEET?? Not even a little?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. We were 100% sure.

@/wildforwags: Who actually officiated your wedding?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Some very lovely lady at a London registry office. She called us ‘sweethearts’ and I think she knew we were completely insane, but she was very supportive about it.

@/racewifematerial: What did you wear?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: A white sundress I bought the week before. Oscar wore a suit that was slightly too big because he borrowed it last-minute. We looked like two teenagers who ran away from home, which, to be fair… we kinda did.

@/formula1fangirl: Who took the wedding photos? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We handed a disposable camera to two very confused tourists outside the registry office. They did a great job.

@/landoandchaos: Oscar, babe, how did you manage to keep this from your friend for FIVE YEARS? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Listen, Oscar is elite at two things: racing and not offering information unless directly asked.

@/mclarenfanatic: Did he really think Lando knew? ↪️@/mrspiastri: 100%. I asked him and he was like, ‘Well, I didn’t HIDE it?’ And I was like, ‘Oscar. That is not the same thing as telling people.’

@/fastandflawless: Be honest, did you ever have a moment of ‘Oh my god, I married an 18-year-old racing driver, what have I done’?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really? I mean, other people definitely thought we were nuts, but we knew exactly what we were doing. The real crisis moment was a few months later when I realized I’d have to file taxes as a married person.

@/waggossip: “Did Oscar have a big, romantic proposal, or was it just like, ‘Wanna get married?’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar woke up one morning, looked at me, and said, ‘We should get married. Logically, it makes sense.’ ↪️@/f1softies: YOU’RE JOKING. ↪️@/mrspiastri: I was like, ‘Okay?’ And he said, ‘Great, I’ll book an appointment.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: So let me get this straight. No knee. No ring. Just ‘We should get married.’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: Correct. ↪️@/f1wifeguys: And you weren’t even a little mad?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nah, I thought it was funny. If he’d done some big, dramatic proposal, I’d have thought he was concussed. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Please tell me he at least got a ring after that. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He did! We picked one out together. It has both our birthstones.

@/paddocktea: Okay, but does he ever get super romantic out of nowhere?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, absolutely. Once, when I was really stressed out, he just looked at me and said, ‘You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m always going to be here.’ ↪️@/f1wifeguys: STOP THAT’S SO SWEET.

@/paddockinsider: What’s the most uncharacteristically romantic thing he’s ever said? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We were lying in bed once, just scrolling on our phones, and out of nowhere he goes, ‘You know, no matter how my life turned out, I think I would’ve found you in every version of it.’ And then he just went back to reading about Formula 2 tire degradation like he hadn’t just ruined me.

@/backmarkerbrigade: “So, like, what did you do after you got married? Fancy dinner? Celebratory champagne?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: ...Sandwichs at Pret-a-manger

@/gridlove: What’s the most Oscar Piastri way he’s ever told you he loves you? ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time he texted me ‘You’re my favorite human’ completely out of the blue. No context. No follow-up. Just that. It was adorable.

@/pitlaneprincess: Who cried more at the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Me. Oscar was annoyingly composed. He did squeeze my hand really tight when we said our vows, though.

@/drsforlove: “This man has been giving post-race interviews like ‘Yeah, good race, car felt good’ and then just casually drops a wife like it’s a tire strategy.

@/wildforwags: What’s something you wish you had done for the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly, nothing. It was chaotic, but it was ours.

@/pitstopqueen: What was your first impression of Oscar? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly? I thought he was too quiet. Then he made some dry, sarcastic comment under his breath in class, and I immediately knew we’d get along.

@/tracksidegossip: How long did you actually plan the wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: A week. And ‘plan’ is a generous term. We just Googled how to get married in London, booked the appointment, and that was that.

@/f1chaos: Oscar, be so honest, did you really think people would just ‘figure it out’ without you ever saying anything?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/paddockprincess: Wait, so how did Oscar’s family react to you guys getting married so young? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Honestly? They were really supportive. His mum just went, ‘That makes sense,’ and his dad laughed. Oscar’s family has always been the ‘if you’re happy, we’re happy’ type. ↪️@/oscarpiastriupdates: “So no dramatic reactions from the Piastris??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: “The most dramatic reaction was his mum sighing and saying, ‘You two are hopeless.’ But she meant it fondly.”

@/chaosinthepaddock: What about your family? 👀 ↪️@/mrspiastri: Ah. Well. See, they did not get over it in five minutes. ↪️@/f1tea: Omg. HOW mad were they??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Very. Like, ‘multiple angry phone calls’ mad. Like, ‘we refuse to speak to you for years’ mad.” ↪️@/landonorris: Did they actually say you were ruining your life? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, yes. There was a lot of dramatic ‘you’re throwing your future away’ speeches. Which was funny, because my future was literally the same, just with more love and an Australian husband. ↪️@/piastrination: Did Oscar ever try to talk to them about it? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, he tried. But Oscar is Oscar, so he just very calmly said, ‘I love her, we’re married, and that’s not changing.’ Which, surprisingly, did not make them less angry. ↪️@/f1gossip: Have they come around since then? ↪️@/mrspiastri: No.

@/landonorris: Lando’s reaction when he found out vs. your family’s reaction when they found out—who had the bigger meltdown?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, my family by far. Lando was just confused—my relatives were furious.

@/gridgirlgossip: Oscar Piastri, the man who quietly eloped at 18, dealt with family drama, and then just went racing like nothing happened.

@/drsdiva: “This is the wildest reveal in F1 history. Netflix, do your job.”

@/f1softies: “The fact that Oscar has been in wife guy mode for YEARS and we had no idea.”

@/lando4lyf: Lando: ‘YOU GOT A TATTOO?!’ Oscar: ‘No, I’m married.’ Lando: internal system crash

@/piastriupdates: “Lando Norris finding out live on stage that his teammate has been MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS is the funniest thing to ever happen in F1.

@/f1memesdaily: “Oscar Piastri eloped at 18, never told anyone, and assumed people would figure it out while Lando was out here thinking he was a single man. I respect the commitment to quiet chaos.”

@/danielricciardo: Mate. You were MARRIED this whole time?? I thought you were just too focused on racing to date anyone, and instead you were out here with a whole WIFE???

@/charles_leclerc: You were married at 18? And Oscar thought that was a normal thing to do?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/alex_albon: Tbh, I respect it. Absolute power move. Eloping at 18, casually keeping it a secret, and then just dropping it on Lando like that?? Unreal. ↪️@/mrspiastri: See? Alex gets it.

@/robertschwartzman: Oh, now everyone suddenly cares. Meanwhile, WE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. ↪️@/mrspiastri: To be fair, you two were basically forced to know. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Yeah, because he wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘Oh, I can’t come to dinner, I have to call my wife.’ ‘Oh, I’m flying to London to see my wife.’ Mate, we were 19, and you were out here married like a 40-year-old. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He still does that, btw. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Not surprised. The man has been whipped since day one.

@/jehannadaruvala: “The funniest part was watching Oscar just assume we all knew. Like we’d be talking about normal 19-year-old things, and he’d casually drop, ‘Yeah, my wife said the same thing.’ ↪️@/mrspiastri: And did any of you ever ask for clarification? ↪️@/jehannadaruvala: Oh, we asked. His response? ‘What about it?’ LIKE SIR. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: “One time, I straight-up said, ‘Mate, do you realize you’re married?’ and he just blinked at me and said, ‘Yeah.’ As if that was a totally normal thing for a teenage racing driver. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Sounds about right. ↪️@/ollicaldwell: “Honestly, we stopped questioning it after a while. He was just so chill about it. ↪️@/arthur_leclerc: Yeah, it was like, ‘Oh, Oscar’s in a committed marriage while we’re all just trying to survive? Cool, cool.’

@/f1softies: Okay but does he ever have romantic moments?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oh, absolutely. They just happen out of nowhere and leave me emotionally ruined. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Example, please. ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time, I was having a bad day, and he just looked at me and said, ‘You know, the best part of my life is that I get to love you.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: EXCUSE ME SIR??? ↪️@/landonorris: “WHAT THE HELL.”

@/f1updates: So you eloped… but do you think you’ll ever have a big wedding? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. Oscar and I don’t love being the center of attention, so a big wedding never appealed to us. ↪️@/landonorris: THEN CAN I HAVE A BIG PARTY ON YOUR BEHALF??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We literally just had a wedding reveal by accident and you want to throw an even bigger event??? ↪️@/landonorris: YES.

@/f1insider: So how did Mark find out?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: We didn’t tell him. He found out when Oscar referred to me as his wife in conversation. ↪️@/mrspiastri: We were in a meeting. Mark stopped mid-sentence and went, ‘Your WHAT?’ ↪️@/landonorris: HIS WORLDVIEW SHATTERED. @/mrspiastri: Oscar, completely unbothered, said, ‘Oh. Yeah. We got married a while ago.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: I CAN HEAR MARK WEBBER’S EXASPERATION. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mark didn’t speak for a full minute. Then he sighed, rubbed his temples, and went, ‘Mate. You can’t just drop that into conversation like it’s nothing.’ ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I didn’t see the problem. ↪️@/landonorris: YOU WOULDN’T. ↪️@/f1updates: Does Mark ever bring it up now? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Every single time we see him. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: It’s been years. He should let it go. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Finally he just said, ‘Yeah, I should have figured.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: EXCUSE ME???” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Apparently, Oscar was too relaxed for someone hiding a major life decision. Mark said he’d seen too many drivers try to balance racing and relationships, and he knew Oscar had already locked it down. ‘Kid’s too stable for anything else.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: That’s actually terrifying. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Immediately after he went ‘Alright. Suppose we better make sure this doesn’t derail your career then.’ ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Classic Webber. ↪️@/mclarenupdates: Did he at least congratulate you? ↪️@mrspiastri: Yes. Eventually. But only after making sure we’d thought it through. ↪️@/f1softies: Did he give you a lecture?” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Not really. More like a ‘If you’re doing this, do it properly’ talk.

@/drsfordays: The fact that her family was furious while Mark Webber just sighed is sending me.

@/oscarpiastri_fanclub: So Mark Webber has known this whole time??” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. And I think he’s still mildly offended that Oscar didn’t ask for any advice beforehand.

@/f1updates: Why doesn’t Oscar wear a wedding ring? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He does! He just doesn’t wear it when driving. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Okay but I have never seen this man wear a ring in my life. ↪️@/mrspiastri: He wears it in the off-season. Also, fun fact: he has a silicone one for training that he keeps losing.

@/f1updates: Oscar is so calm and logical on track. Is he the same at home? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Mostly, yeah. But sometimes, out of nowhere, he’ll just say the most devastatingly romantic thing. ↪️@/f1softies: EXAMPLES PLEASE. ↪️@/mrspiastri: One time, I joked, ‘You’re stuck with me forever,’ and he just looked at me, completely serious, and said, ‘That was the goal.’

@/f1updates: Do you ever wish you dated other people before settling down? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Nope. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Not even a little? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Why would I? I already found my person.

@/f1updates: Serious question—why don’t you ever go to races?? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Anxiety. And I like my privacy. Nobody needs to see my terrified facial expressions. ↪️@/f1memes: You really married a professional racing driver and said no thanks to the circus.” ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yep. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: And Oscar’s fine with that??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He knew what he was signing up for.

@/landonorris: So I still haven’t met you because??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Because you are chaos incarnate and I am scared. ↪️@/landonorris: I AM DELIGHTFUL. ↪️@/mrspiastri: Oscar tells me otherwise. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, SAY IT AIN’T SO. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No comment.

@/mclarenmemes: So you just send him off to work and watch from home like it’s the Super Bowl? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Yes. ↪️@/f1memes: AND HE’S FINE WITH THAT??? ↪️@/mrspiastri: He comes home, I feed him, we watch race replays together, and he tells me all the paddock gossip. We have an excellent system. ↪️@/f1updates: Oscar, confirm or deny? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Confirmed.

@/f1updates: So, will we ever see you at a race? ↪️@/mrspiastri: Maybe. One day. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, MAKE HER COME TO ONE. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: She does whatever she wants. I learned that a long time ago.

[kibblywibbly]

this line really stuck with me like,, what 😕

Characters + au credits goes to @kitsuneisi & @xmaruu11

[morganbritton132]

I think you’d have to tell Steve if he was being bullied. Even after he fell off the social ladder, I just don’t think he’d notice because his old friends were assholes anyways and why would someone do that? To him??

However, I think you’d also have to tell Steve that no, Ms Byers doesn’t hate him just because she said ‘Morning’ when he went into Melvards instead of ‘Good morning.’

[ecoustsaintmein]

#this scene y'all#you know eoin's been running around#trying to figure out ANY WAY HE CAN#to get paddy out of there#the sas should be enough to do it#but just in case#he puts himself on offer too#hoping it will be extra incentive#enough to convince paddy#to save him from himself#even though it ends to costing eoin his life eventually#i'm not okay#paddy/eoin#eoin mcgonigal#paddy mayne#sas rogue heroes @gydima

ughhhh now i'm imagining what eoin must be thinking/doing while paddy's in jail. does he fret in his tent? watching the empty cot beside him? writing letters to his brother about how paddy's messed up again?? and he tries not to show his worry but other 11 commando guys will ask how he's holding up without paddy and if he's heard anything. and then a messenger came from stirling to tell him to pass the news about SAS to paddy and immediately eoin stopped sulking and sat up straight in his cot and his eyes widen in disbelief and excitement and he knows this is his bribe this is his ticket to get paddy out of jail and if everything else fails he will offer himself up too. the best thing? i think stirling knows from the start that eoin is inseparable from paddy and has already said to him that eoin can come too (not just because of paddy but also because of merit).

і𝖿 ᥡ᥆ᥙ ძᥱᥴіძᥱ 𝗍᥆ ȷ᥆іᥒ 𝗍һᥱm…і ᥕіᥣᥣ ȷ᥆іᥒ 𝗍һᥱ sᥲs 𝗍᥆᥆.

[sooniebby]

an idea; a (bottom) male reader who’s apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesn’t mind spending some money to help you guys out—waiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.

The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just don’t interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any… mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.

You’re left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.

It intrigues you enough but you don’t do it without running it through your members. They’re mostly shocked you even want to do that… but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.

Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, “Shy Usagi” since your mask resembled a rabbit.

The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.

Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.

Occasionally you’d masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.

“Hitachikoi”

You were sure he was probably an old man but you didn’t care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.

Things were going reasonably well until after your group’s performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.

You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didn’t say anything as he simply held up a marker.

It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. “Oh! Sure.” You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.

“Here you go, thanks for coming to see us!”

“I only came to see you.”

“Hm?” You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?

The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. “Mhm. Only you… (Name)… or ah,”

His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.

He… he wasn’t some random guy. He was a famous actor… a famous actor knew about you?

“Shy Usagi? It’s nice to see your entire face… that mask never hid your lips.”

You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he even—

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isn’t made to think so hard,” he said, a slight frown on his lips. “I just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch you…”

His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.

“To be inside of you instead of that dildo… I mean, I’m paying you so much money, it’s only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? I’ve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.”

“(Name)! Where are you?”

He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. “You’ll stream tonight.” He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight… that’s my favorite color.”

With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.

You… were so fucking screwed.

In more ways than one.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic

I already made a face claim lol.



[bytemee]

WICKED GAMES — YU JIMIN.

“bring your love baby, i could bring my shame.”

synopsis. fueled by liquor and jealousy, you show karina that she's not always the one in control.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x (not so)loser!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ smut, g!p reader, p in v (unprotected), degradation (um haha), rough sex, u call karina track #17 off 1989 taylors version by taylor swift (sl*t), spoiler alert she likes it, spanking, backshots or a good career, begging, tummy bulge, jus dirty man im sorry this isn't who i am

words. 3k

authors note. yes im late, yes i was sleep, yes im sorru. prob gonna make a masterlist for mean sorority karina (when i wake up tmr). no men interact w this one cuz yall already get yk...so plz don't ruin it

part one. headcannons. navigation. main masterlist.

the bass from downstairs was still thumping through the walls, but you barely heard it over the sound of your own irritation.

you weren't even supposed to be here tonight. you told yourself that every time—every time karina batted her lashes at you and you showed up anyway, standing on the sidelines, playing the role of her personal support system when you weren't even hers to claim.

and yet, there you were again, nursing a drink that was long since finished, watching as some frat guy leaned in a little too close, grinning like he actually had a chance. karina wasn't exactly entertaining him, but she wasn't shutting him down either. just smiling, letting him talk, letting him think.

you clenched your jaw, rolling your empty cup between your fingers.

the party had dragged on longer than you wanted, but you stayed—because you always did. because karina wanted you there, and for some reason, that was enough.

you hadn't said anything when she let those frat guys linger a little too close, hadn't reacted when she flashed them that signature smile. you just watched, jaw tight, fingers curled around your empty cup, telling yourself it didn't matter.

but now, the night was winding down, and somehow, as always, you ended up here.

karina's room was quiet, muffling the heavy bass still shaking the walls downstairs. you barely acknowledged her as you dropped into the chair by her desk, pulling out your phone, pretending to be more interested in your screen than the way she moved around the room.

she hummed softly as she unzipped her dress, letting it slip off her shoulders, pooling on the floor. the sound of her humming was the only noise between the two of you, and it filled you with an uncomfortable warmth. "you were really quiet tonight," she mused, stepping out of it, now left in just a tank top and shorts.

you didn't answer. just kept scrolling.

karina turned, watching you for a moment before making her way over. she didn't hesitate before settling onto your lap, straddling you, one hand resting on your shoulder while the other tugged at your phone.

your gripped tightened, eyes still glued to the screen. "don't want to talk about it," you murmured, turning your head to avoid her lips.

a small smile slipped onto her lips, and her hand came up, brushing back a strand of your hair. "c'mon, don't be mad at me," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you rolled your eyes.

karina clicked her tongue, fingers curling around your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. "don't pout, puppy" she cooed. "let's have some fun."

"i'm not in the mood."

"not even for me?" she pressed her hips forward, grinding down on you.

your expression darkened, jaw clenching. "karina—"

karina huffed, her grip on your jaw tightening just slightly. "you're being difficult," she muttered, leaning in, brushing her lips against yours. "thought you liked it when i gave you attention."

"not in the mood," you repeated, pushing her back.

"what, did the guys downstairs upset you?" she said, a knowing smirk slipping onto her face.

Karina stared at your expression for a long moment, waiting for your resounding silence to confirm what she already knew. She chuckled, running a finger along your jaw, leaning in, voice low as she spoke. "are you jealous, puppy?"

your expression hardened.

"shut up," you muttered, grabbing her wrist, releasing her hold on your face. "do you get off being a slut or something?"

karina blinked, eyes widening, her breath hitching slightly. her usual confidence wavered, the teasing expression on her face faltering as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. she opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

her wrist flexed slightly in your grip, not in an attempt to pull away, but more like she was unsure of what to do with herself now. for once, she wasn't in control.

"i asked you a question," you murmured, tightening your hold just enough to make her shiver.

karina swallowed hard, lips parting as she stared up at you, the pink blush on her face growing darker. her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip, eyes darkening.

"yes," she whispered, a slight whine in her voice.

"what was that?"

she inhaled shakily, her hips shifting against yours. "y-yes, i get off being a slut," she admitted, a soft moan escaping her.

"that's what i thought," you said, voice low, your free hand dropping to her waist. you squeezed her hip, drawing a sharp gasp from her, your hand drifting lower, squeezing her ass. "you're so fucking annoying," you breathed, leaning in, pressing your lips to her jaw.

"oh, fuck," she gasped, hips pressing forward, hands dropping to your chest. "i'm sorry," she mumbled, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt, clinging onto you as you nipped and sucked at her skin.

you hummed, kissing your way up her neck. "are you?"

karina let out a whimper, her hips grinding down against yours.

"you're the only one i want," she whispered, turning her head, catching your lips in a messy kiss. "the only one who can make me feel this good."

you groaned, the sound muffled against her mouth, your hand gripping her hip, tugging her closer. karina's arms came up, wrapping around your neck, fingers tangling into your hair, moaning against your mouth.

you pulled back, just enough to breathe. "so annoying," you repeated, the words lost to the press of your lips.

karina smiled against your mouth. "i know."

it was all too easy to give in to her. to give her exactly what she wanted. you knew she had you wrapped around her finger, and she didn't hesitate to use it to her advantage.

you hated her, and loved her, and everything in between.

she kissed like a dream, the faint taste of strawberry chapstick lingering on her lips, her tongue hot and eager against yours. a soft moan escaped her as her fingers tangled into your hair, nails grazing your scalp, her hips rolling against you, a breathy whine slipping past her lips.

your grip tightened around her waist before you lifted her effortlessly, turning to drop her onto the bed. she grinned, hands reaching for your shirt, trying to pull you down with her. but you pushed her back, pressing her into the mattress, guiding her onto her stomach, her legs hanging over the edge.

she glanced over her shoulder at you, a teasing glint in her eyes as she let out a soft laugh.

"really? from behind?" she mused, lips forming the slightest pout.

you exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes before gripping her hips, pulling her back until her ass was raised. with one swift motion, you tugged down her shorts and underwear, leaving her bare beneath you.

karina bit her lip, a soft moan escaping her at the cool air.

"you wanted to be fucked, didn't you?" you asked, hand coming down to her ass, a loud slap echoing through the room.

karina jolted forward with a cry, the pain only causing her arousal to grow. "f-fuck," she whimpered, pressing back into your hand, desperate for more. you spanked her again and again, leaving her skin red and warm. karina's cries grew louder, her grip tightening on the sheets, her back arching beautifully.

"please," she moaned, eyes fluttering closed.

you spanked her once more, harder this time, the sound of your hand against her skin ringing in your ears.

"please what?" you murmured, dropping to your knees behind her, pressing a soft kiss to her skin.

"want you," she breathed, a quiet whine escaping her. "wanna be fucked. please, wanna be fucked."

"yeah?"

"fuck me," she pleaded, voice cracking as your belt jingled. karina sighed at the sound, anticipation building, her legs spreading, her hips rocking back and forth, desperate for friction. you could hear her ragged breaths, and you could practically see the way her hands were fisted into the sheets, the way her eyes were squeezed shut, the way she was biting her lip in anticipation.

you pushed down your pants, just enough to release your cock, taking yourself in hand. karina moaned as you lined up, a shiver running through her, the head of your cock teasing her entrance.

"you're gonna be a good girl for me, right?" you asked, hand trailing up her back, tugging at her hair.

karina's response was a high-pitched whimper, her hips pressing back against you. you pulled harder, tugging her head back, forcing a moan from her throat.

"use your words, baby."

"yes!" she gasped, her hips pressing back, desperately trying to find purchase. "yes, yes, i'll be good. i'll be a good girl. just fuck me. please, please fuck me. i need it. i need you. please."

"good girl."

karina cried out, fingers curling into the sheets as you sank into her. her mouth fell open, head tipping back, her eyes squeezing shut as her jaw fell open. she was so wet and hot and tight, and it felt so good, and she looked so perfect, and you were going to ruin her. you groaned, sinking deeper and deeper into her until your hips were pressed flush against hers.

"oh, fuck," she whined, her back arching.

you let go of her hair, letting her fall forward, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. you grabbed her hips, digging your fingers into her skin hard enough to leave bruises, and started to move. karina moaned, fingers scrabbling at the sheets, desperate to find something to hold onto, as you fucked her into the mattress.

your pace was quick, a mix of shallow thrusts and deep ones, never letting up, never giving her a chance to recover. her voice cracked as her moans grew louder, her body shuddering, the pressure building in her core.

"you like being fucked like a little slut?"

"y-yes!" she gasped, nodding, her eyes rolling back as your cock hit the perfect spot. "f-fuck, fuck, fuck. so fucking good, feels so good, god, i'm gonna cum. don't stop. i'm so close. fuck, i'm gonna—!"

"not yet."

"p-please!" she cried, voice cracking, her hips stuttering.

"hold it," you warned, voice low, a dangerous edge to your tone.

she sobbed, shaking her head. you gripped her hips tighter, controlling the pace as she whimpered in frustration, on the brink of release.

she cried out as you slapped her ass, a harsh sting spreading through her. you gripped her hair, tugging her head back, forcing her back to arch. she moaned, the new angle hitting deeper, her voice cracking, her walls tightening around you.

"are you going to cum?"

"yes!"

"say it."

"i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum, please let me cum," she whimpered, a desperate sob escaping her. "p-please. please, i'm so close, please let me cum, fuck, please."

you growled, a low, possessive sound, and you reached for her chin, pulling her head back even further. "cum for me, rina."

the moment the words left your mouth, karina's body jerked forward with a scream. her thighs shook, her hips bucked, and her body shuddered as she came, the pleasure crashing over her in waves. she was beautiful, her voice ringing through the room, her hair sticking to her forehead, her eyes screwed shut, her lips parted in a silent cry.

you released her hair, letting her collapse against the mattress, her body going limp as her orgasm faded. her hips rolled against yours, the small movements pushing her through her aftershocks, her voice a quiet whimper, her fingers curling into the sheets, her back rising and falling with her shallow breaths.

"so beautiful," you murmured, stroking her back.

she was gorgeous, flushed and breathless, and completely spent. you ran your fingers along her spine, up and down, up and down, letting her come down from her high. she hummed, her eyes fluttering closed, her body relaxing.

"how are you feeling, baby?" you asked, brushing her hair out of her face.

"'m good," she mumbled, her lips curving into a lazy smile. "feel good."

you nodded, leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "that's good. can you take some more?"

she let out a quiet hum, a soft moan escaping her. "more?"

you gave a gentle nod, and karina's lips curled into a sly grin.

"fuck me."

karina gasped as you moved her, your hands gripping her, manhandling her, positioning her. she was pliant, her body moving willingly under your touch, and a small whine escaped her as you pulled her to you. you sat on your knees, karina on her back in front of you, legs spread, head tilted back, exposing the smooth column of her throat.

you sat on your knees, karina on her back in front of you, legs spread, head tilted back, exposing the smooth column of her throat.

you couldn't resist leaning down, pressing your lips to her neck, your tongue tracing the skin there, tasting her. she let out a soft moan, her hands coming up to rest on your shoulders, nails digging into your flesh. you bit down, leaving a mark on her skin, before sucking on the spot, eliciting a sharp cry from her.

you pulled back, staring down at her, and she stared back, eyes heavy, her lips parted, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

"beautiful," you murmured, hand trailing down her body, stopping at her breast, squeezing her under her tank top. karina whimpered, hips rocking against yours, a breathy moan escaping her as you pinched her nipple. "you're so perfect, karina. such a pretty little thing."

she flushed, biting her lip.

you chuckled, leaning down, catching her lips in a kiss. "don't act shy now."

"m'not," she mumbled, her hands trailing up your back, tangling into your hair.

"no?" you asked, pressing kisses to her cheek, down her jaw, and her neck. you could feel the warmth radiating off her, her pulse quickening under your lips, her skin flushing, and it was all too easy to imagine her face. her eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between her teeth, her cheeks painted with a dark blush, her expression so perfectly sweet.

you leaned back, your gaze dropping to where you were still buried inside her. your cock was glistening, slick with her arousal, and you licked your lips. karina inhaled sharply, watching you with wide eyes, a soft whine escaping her.

"you want me to make you cum again, baby?" you asked, slowly dragging yourself out of her. she nodded eagerly, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she balled up your shirt, half confused why you were still wearing it but too deep in the moment to question it.

"want it so bad," she said, the words slipping past her lips before she could think. you chuckled, pushing back into her with one quick thrust, forcing a moan from her. you stilled your hips, just for a moment, looking at the bulge in her stomach, her skin stretched around your cock, and a shiver ran through you.

"god, look at that," you whispered, your voice thick with lust, a hand pressing down on her stomach. "you take my cock so well, karina."

she whimpered, her head falling back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering closed. her walls fluttered around you, clenching and unclenching, her body craving more, wanting you deeper. she moaned, her hips moving, trying to get you to move, but you stayed still, your eyes glued to her stomach.

"fuck, you're so big," she mumbled, a shaky breath escaping her, her thighs trembling.

"yeah?" you murmured, grinding into her just slightly. "feels good, baby?"

"yeah," she whined, nodding, her fingers tightening their grip on your shirt. "you feel so good. love how deep you are."

a groan rumbled in your chest, and you leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips, a soft whimper escaping her.

"gonna make you feel even better, baby."

karina's eyes snapped open as you started moving, her head falling back with a moan. her arms wrapped around your neck, holding onto you tightly, her legs hooking around your waist. you groaned, a low, guttural sound, her head turning to the side as you quickened your pace, her breath coming in short gasps.

"so good," she whined, her voice cracking, her grip tightening around you. "oh, god. y-you're gonna make me cum again."

"already?"

"mhm," she hummed, biting her lip, a desperate whimper escaping her. "f-fuck. oh, shit. feels s-so good. please, please. fuck, don't stop. gonna make me cum, gonna make me cum."

"such a slut," you murmured, lips pressing to her cheek, your hand slipping between your bodies, thumb circling her clit. "so sensitive."

karina jolted with a cry, her hips jerking up against yours, her back arching, her mouth falling open in a silent moan. she was a wreck, and you loved it. her eyes were screwed shut, her face scrunched up in pleasure, her walls clenching around you, and the sight had you throbbing.

"you're so fucking sexy, rina," you breathed, nipping at her neck, your thrusts getting rougher, losing any sense of rhythm. "i could do this forever. fucking ruin you, make you scream my name."

karina was beyond words. all she could do was moan and gasp and whine, her body rocking beneath yours.

"cum for me," you murmured, your lips trailing across her jaw, nipping at her earlobe.

she cried out, her hips stuttering, her walls clamping down around you, her head thrown back as she came, the pleasure coursing through her. her body trembled, and you fucked her through her orgasm, her moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum," you muttered, burying your face in her neck.

"please," she whimpered, the word muffled against your skin, her voice cracking. "please, wanna be filled. wanna be yours. cum for me, cum for me. please."

you moaned, the sound rumbling in your chest, as you slammed into her, burying yourself to the hilt. karina cried out as you came, your cock throbbing, filling her. you shuddered, your body going slack, a low groan escaping you, your grip on her hips loosening.

she hummed, her fingers trailing up and down your back, a soft, sated sound, as she held you. she was warm and pliant and perfect, and for a moment, all you could think about was her.

your breaths were ragged, chests heaving, as you both tried to catch your breath. your lips brushed against hers, soft and sweet, and you could feel her smile.

"was that good?"

"yes," she breathed, nodding. "it was amazing. thank you, puppy."

you hummed, your thumb trailing along her hip.

"can you stay tonight?" she asked, a slight pleading tone to her voice.

you couldn't help the smile that slipped onto your face, pressing another kiss to her cheek.

"yeah, rina. i'll stay."

she grinned, the sight making your chest tight, and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

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